Jealous Distraction

This is a continuation of John and Madison’s (aka Mav) story. It picks up right where The Alley left off. Since this is the 4th prompt for these characters, if you would rather read them all in order, go HERE.

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“That isn’t possible. I have it right here.” I fumbled for my purse, wondering why every light in the alleyway refused to work.

My purse vanished from my hands.

“Dammit, John! You can’t just-” I stopped as his shadow tossed something into the dumpster. “What did you just do?”

“Come on.” His warm hand gripped my forearm, dragging me toward the opposite end of the alleyway.

I yanked my arm away. “No. I want my purse. It was a gift.”

The hand returned, tighter this time. “Sorry, Mav.”

I dug the soles of my sneakers into the pavement as he pulled me again, my heels finally catching on a crack. Instead of stopping my movement, my upper body pitched forward as the ground threatened my face.

I flew into the air. The wind whooshed from my lungs as my stomach landed on something hard: John’s shoulder.

My body jiggled as he jogged – an unwieldy sack of potatoes.

“Put. Me. Down.” Each word exhaled like a grunt.

“In a minute.”

“Now. Or. I’ll. Scream.”

“I never slept with Elizabeth.”

“What?” We left the alleyway behind Guido’s and moved into another one across the street.

“Elizabeth Forsberg, senior year. You broke every damn window in my car because you thought I slept with her. I never did.”

My stomach twisted.

The wave of nausea breaking over me as I discovered them in his steamed up junker. Puking in one of the huge planters framing the school’s sidewalk. The flood of tears as I fled, stopping only to empty my stomach again. The dry heaves each time their embrace played in my mind.

The metal bat cool in my sweaty hands. Powered by betrayal, my fury rained upon the only outlet for my rage. The difficulty of knocking out the safety glass. The satisfaction as the back window shattered.

Running as the house’s lights flicked on.

“No.”

“I saw you in the rear-view mirror. I kissed her to make you jealous.”

“Gonna. Be. Sick.”

The jarring motion ceased immediately as he lifted me off his shoulders and set me down. I turned away a split second before I emptied the few bites of salad onto the littered ground.

His hands caressed my neck, pulling my hair away from my face.

Bent over a toilet as he protected my hair.

“Someone can’t hold her liquor.”

Letting him believe the lie.

I whirled and knocked his hands away, praying my pyrotechnics were over even as my stomach danced. “Why would you bring up something from eight years ago?”

“It kept you from screaming for help.”

Stunned, I stared at him – my first good look in five years.

Even in the brighter alley, he blended into the shadows. His black leather jacket matched the rest of his clothing, out of place in the summer heat. A new scar graced his chin. His blue eyes were serious, free of the teasing I expected, with a few new lines creased around them. Power radiated from every muscle, like a jungle cat ready to spring.

Everything else heartbreakingly familiar.

“I need you to come with me.” He reached for me with his right hand. “Please Mav.”

The plea paired with my curiosity and obliterated any common sense. My hand met his and we raced to the end of the alley.

A motorcycle waited there, hiding between the buildings. He handed me a helmet as he straddled the bike. “Put it on.” The engine roared to life.

“John… what the hell is going on?” My voice shouted over the loud muffler.

“I received an email on an old account this morning, telling me to be here tonight.”

“From who?”

“You.”

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A Red Dress Club writing prompt

Aaah…jealousy. We all have it. We all feel it.

And now we’d like you to write about it. We’ll leave it open: you can write about something or someone you envy, or a time when your jealousy got you in trouble, or maybe how it makes you feel to be envious. Whatever you want.

And it can be fiction or non-fiction. Word limit is 600.

Constructive criticism, what you liked, what you didn’t, is most welcome!