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Message-ID: <51704asstr$1123873802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} RP Playing to Win: Playing the Game II by R.C. Mather 19/41 (mf soccer)
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Date: Fri, 12 Aug 2005 15:10:02 -0400
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And we continue...

Rev. Cotton Mather
Senior Pastor,
Church of the Erotic Redemption
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ReverendCottonMather/www
http://www.storiesonline.net
www.ruthiesclub.com

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**If I had to do it all over,
I'd do it all over you**

<1st attachment, "PTW19.txt" begin>


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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This story is
the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded
for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to
download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as there
is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring
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(Copyright 2002, Rev. Cotton Mather)

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PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 19 -

FEAR




I handed one Coke to Molly.  She smiled at me, and our hands touched
momentarily as I passed the paper cup to her.  I sat down next to
her, and gestured for Eric to come over by me.  He crouched down at
my side, up close so we could converse above the music.

"What's up, bro?" he asked quietly.

"I think we might have trouble," I murmured.  I was turned away from
Molly, who had returned to watching the dancers.  "Find Josh for me,
would you?"

"Sure thing," he said, and he stood up and held out his hand for
Keisha.  Without a word, she took his hand, and they walked out to
the dance floor.  I watched as they slipped through the crowd,
threading their way toward the middle.  A few minutes later, Josh and
Andrea came out, holding hands.  Josh was sweating, but Andi was
glowing.  I still didn't know how girls did that, but now wasn't the
time to be considering it.

Josh flopped down in the chair next to me, and Andi gracefully
lowered herself into the chair next to Josh.  Girls did that
mysteriously, too, I thought.  I mentally shook myself.  Concentrate,
fool, I chastised my inner imp.

"Eric said you needed me," he said, leaning in close to me.

"Yeah, there might be a problem," I said.  I leaned across Josh.
"Andi, can you sit with Molly for a moment?"

"Of course," she said.  "I think we need to powder our noses,
anyway.  Let me just go find Tessa, okay?"

She glided back out into the crowd, and a few moments later, brought
Tessa and Austin back with her.  She leaned over to speak into
Molly's ear, so she would be heard over the music.  Molly nodded, and
stood up, smoothing her dress out by running her hands down her
thighs, and the three girls moved around the gymnasium toward the
restrooms.

Jake and Jaimie happened to walk up just then, and when he saw
Austin, Josh and I huddling, he waved Tiny over, and they joined up
with us.

"Okay, here's the deal," I said, looking around at all of them.  "I
was in the can, and I saw Joey Amonte, all dressed up in a suit,
doing a line of coke."

Josh's face looked thunderous.  "What the fuck is he doing here?" he
spat.

"I don't know, but I had to look twice to be sure it was him," I
said.  "He was all cleaned up, dressed as sharp as trailer trash like
him could come up with.  I think he's trying to work his way around
the dance, kind of incognito.  You know, it's dark in here, with the
mirror ball lights and all, who's going to give another kid in a suit
a second look, if he's just wandering around?  But anyway, he's here,
believe it."

Jake glanced around, as if expecting Joey to be leaning over,
listening to our conversation.  I pulled him back around.

"Listen up, guys.  I haven't seen any of the other Bulls here, but
that doesn't mean they're not trying the same scam, so keep your eyes
peeled.  Okay?"  I got affirmative nods from everyone.

"And make sure there is at least two couples sitting here with Molly
and Sean at all times," said Josh.  "Don't get lulled into thinking
there's no threat here in this crowd, especially now that we know
Amonte's sneaking around somewhere.  If you want to go out and dance,
or go to the shitter, or anything, make sure somebody else knows
about it.  Got it?"

"And don't leave your dates alone," said Jake.  "Make sure you've
got friends around."

"Good point," said Josh.  "Is everybody okay with that?"

Everybody was okay with that.  Austin and I sat down and waited for
the girls to come back, and Josh and Jake headed back out into the
dance crowd to let Eric, Trent, Jorge, and Paco know about the new
developments.

Time to circle the wagons, I thought to myself.  I tried to put on a
game face, though, for Molly's sake.

There was a slow song just starting up as the girls were walking
back toward us, so I stood, and held out my hand to Molly.  She
stopped, and just looked at my hand.

"May I have this dance?" I asked.

"Sean, I..." she began.

"Oh, go ahead, Molly," said Tessa brightly.  "You'll enjoy it, I
know you will."  She gently pushed Molly forward a step closer to me.
Molly acquiesced, and took my outstretched hand.

"Well... okay," she said, eyes downcast.

I led her out onto the dance floor, and stepped in to put my arm
around her.  She flinched just a little at the touch, and then she
relaxed a bit, letting me hold her lightly and lead her around my
little box-step pattern.  Tessa and Austin were dancing right beside
us, and I knew the others were very close by.

"Molly," I whispered, "you know I will always be your friend.  If
you need me for anything, I'll be there.  You know that, don't you?"

We were dancing cheek to cheek, so I was whispering right into her
ear.  I couldn't look at her at the same time, but I heard her start
to sniffle just a little, and she held me a little tighter.

"I know you've gone through some rough times," I continued, "and I
wish I could just wave my hand and you'd be free of them.  But I know
it's not that easy.  I'm not going to press you or anything, but if
you need to talk about it, I'll listen.  I promise."

The wetness on her cheek from her tears was being transferred to
mine as we swayed to and fro with the music.  Her breath was coming
in small hitches that shook her frame.  I thought I might have gone
too far with my brave little speech.

"Thank you, Sean," she whispered, so quietly I almost didn't hear.
"Thank you, but I'll be okay.  I just need time."

The song ended, but we stayed that way, holding each other, until
the next fast song started up.  She took a deep breath, wiped her
eyes, and held my hand lightly as we walked back to our chairs.

When we got to our spot, Josh stood.  "Would you care to dance,
little sis?"

Molly smiled, the first real smile of amusement I had seen from her
in a very long time.  "'Little sis'?  You're about five minutes older
than me, big brother."

Josh beamed.  He was the one to break through with her, and he knew
it.  "So, that makes you the youngest in the family," he said.  "Do
you want to dance?"

Molly's smile faltered just a little.  "I don't think I'm ready for
a fast dance yet.  At least, not in these shoes.  Maybe the next slow
one, though, okay?"

"Okay, your loss," he replied.  He grabbed Andi's hand, and they
boogied off to dance.

Josh did manage to cajole Molly into dancing after awhile, and she
got more animated as the evening progressed, until flashes of the old
Molly started coming through.  Everybody was feeling terrific about
the progress she exhibited, especially considering it had been only
five days since we first mapped out a disaster plan.  Finally,
though, about a half hour before the dance was to end, Molly hit a
wall.  She slumped in her chair, exhausted from the activity around
her.

"Are you okay, Moll?" asked Josh worriedly.

"I'm okay," she said tiredly, "but I think I really need to get
home, Josh.  I'm so sorry.  I don't want to end your evening so soon."

"Don't be sorry," he said.  "You've been through a lot.  I didn't
think you would have the energy to last this long, to be honest."  He
stood up.  "Andi, we're going to have to take Molly home."

"Okay," she said.  "Let me just say goodnight to Tessa and Austin."
She turned and went in search of our friends, to let them know we
were heading out.

I helped Molly to her feet, and started guiding her around the
crowded floor, toward the door.  Josh and Andrea caught up with us
before we were even halfway there.  Josh took up a position on
Molly's other arm, and together we supported her as we walked.


There were a few other kids walking toward the parking lot when we
got outside.  It was a clear, cold night, with no moon.  The stars
were brilliant diamonds splashed extravagantly across the night sky.
We crossed the shadowy parking lot, each of us holding an elbow.  We
really needed to get her home quickly, it seemed, because she was
sagging more and more, relying on our strength to hold her up.

I fumbled for my car keys, and unlocked the door, opening it so that
Molly could collapse down.  Josh opened the back door for Andi, and
then crawled in when she scooted over across the back seat.  I closed
both doors, and jogged around to the driver's side.  Just as I was
reaching for the handle, I had a premonition that we had made an
awful mistake.

"Hello, Porter," said Joey Amonte, standing in the shadows
practically beside me.  "Fancy meeting you here."

He took two steps toward me, and slammed my car door closed, right
out of my hand.  Harold Barnes appeared by his side, and leaned on
the rear door, and on the other side of the car, Vinnie Arilio
stepped up and leaned on Josh's door, preventing him from opening it,
and Jilly Del Toro stepped up to Molly's door and peered in at her,
staring at her frightened face.  Josh's quick thinking saved her
bacon at that moment, when he shoved the lock down on Molly's door,
and quickly punched down the button on his own door.  Andrea, seeing
his reaction, did the same with her door, keeping the three of them
temporarily safe.  The only problem with this emergency plan was that
I was stuck outside the car, surrounded by the Bulls.

Jilly and Joey looked at each other.  Joey shrugged, as if to say he
really didn't know what to do about the locked doors.  It seemed to
catch them by surprise.  Jilly improvised by sauntering around the
front of my car, and the two of them backed me up until I was leaning
against the fender.

"Get out of my face," I warned, but they knew as well as I did that
it was an empty threat.

Jilly stood about half an inch from me.  "What are you doing with my
bitch?" he asked.

"Your bitch?  You mean Joey, here?" I shot back, unwisely.

He rabbit-punched me in the gut, and I doubled over, gasping.

"Don't crack wise with me, pussy boy," he growled.  "Answer me quick
when I ask you a question, pussy boy, or else."

I tried to straighten up.  "Or else what?  Or else you'll go back
and get more bad lines from old gangster movies?"

He slapped my right ear hard, and a ringing started out in a loud
mid-range, and climbed steadily into the ultrasonic, until I could
feel it in my teeth.  Joey grabbed my arm and spun me around, holding
me from behind by my arms, and stretching me backwards, making my
midsection very vulnerable.  I was still gasping, trying to catch my
breath, and this position wasn't helping.

Jilly said, "I will ask you very nicely, one last time, Porter.  If
you smart off to me again, I will start asking you not so nicely.
Understand?"

When I didn't respond, he cracked me in the ear again.

"Understand?" he said, louder.  I could barely understand what he
was saying, through the noise of the siren in my bruised ear, but I
nodded.

"Good," he said, sounding satisfied.  "Now we're gettin'
somewheres."  He turned and looked around at his friends, and got
some chortles in response, inconsequential sounds of approval from
his cohorts, who were still guarding the doors.  Behind him, I could
see silhouettes of other kids walking toward their cars, too far
away, but I couldn't make out any details.  It stood to reason that
they couldn't see what was going on over here any better than I could
see them, which was too bad for me.  I could have used some help.

"Okay, pussy boy, let's start over, shall we?  What are you doing
here with my cunt?"  Jilly looked very relaxed as he settled in to
question me.  He had all night, after all.  No hurry here.

"Just taking her to the dance," I replied.  He backhanded me across
my face.  He had on a chunky metal ring, one with sharp edges, and my
lip split open, and blood started running down my chin and onto my
white shirt.  A small spray of blood and tissue hit my tongue, and
the metallic taste as I reflexively swallowed was strong.

"Wrong answer, pussy boy," he said with a tight smile.  "Didn't you
hear me say she was my cunt?  Why were you here with my cunt?"

My lip was swelling, making coherent talking a little difficult.
"She's not yours, Del Toro.  Slavery was abolished about a hundred
years ago."

He punched me in the stomach again, but I was prevented from
doubling up by Joey holding me tight.  I groaned in pain, and Joey
tightened his grip.

"She's mine, asshole.  Didn't she tell you?  I marked her, pussy
boy, as my personal property.  You can ask her, if you'd like."  He
leaned in toward the car windshield, malevolently staring inside, and
raised his voice a little, so that Molly could hear, tapping on the
windshield for emphasis.  "Didn't I, bitch?  I marked you as mine,
didn't I?  My teeth marks are on your tits and on your hairy cunt,
aren't they?"  He pounded on the window.  "Aren't they, bitch?" he
yelled.

I felt Joey loosen up just a fraction on my arms, and I figured that
was the only opportunity I was going to get.  I dropped down as
suddenly as I could, letting my weight break Joey's grip.  I was
hoping to slide my arms through Joey's hands, and escape his grasp
before he had time to react.  My only hope was to try that same slide
tackle on Jilly that Jorge had used on his older brother Richie last
year at school, and maybe I could buy just enough time and freedom to
roll under the car to relative safety.  I dropped down, out of Joey's
hold, hitting the gritty pavement on my elbow.  I lashed out with my
leg as I hit the ground, but Jilly just hopped over my sweep.  He
took a step toward me as I was on the ground, and drop-kicked me in
the ribs, driving the breath right out of me.  I felt something
inside me give, and I rolled over into a fetal position to protect my
injured side, struggling to regain my breath, but Jilly was right
there on top of me.  He planted a foot hard on my shoulder, and
turned me over onto my back.  He moved his foot to step hard onto my
chest, and pressed me flat on the ground.  I was having trouble
breathing, between my complaining ribcage and my swollen and bleeding
lip, and the pressure of Jilly's big foot on my chest wasn't helping.
I started thrashing around in panic.

"Nice try, pussy boy," he said, grinning.  "My brother told me about
how he got his assbone broke.  You pussy soccer players are all
alike."  He casually reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a
switchblade.  The snick of the blade was one of the loudest sounds I
had ever heard, slicing right through the ringing in my right ear.
"I oughta cut your heart out, right here, and make you eat it," he
snarled.

I heard one of the car's doors open.  "Stop it, Jilly," said Molly's
voice.  He looked up, startled, and I heard Molly walking around the
front of the car.  "Let him up," she said.

"Why the fuck should I?" he asked angrily.

"Because he's not the one you want, anyway.  Let him up, and don't
hurt him anymore," she insisted.  "Do it, and I'll go with you."  I
could see her now, as she stepped up closer to us, and tears were
streaming down her face, but she was staring right at Jilly.  The
force of her look made him back off just a little, and I could
breathe again.

"No, Molly," I croaked, but she didn't even look at me.

"Shut up, Sean.  He means it.  He'll do it, I know he will.  This is
the only way."  The defeat was loud in her voice.

"Okay, doll.  If that's the way you want to play it, it's okay with
me," he said.  He closed the knife and slipped it back into his
jacket pocket.  He completely forgot about me, as he grabbed Molly
around the waist and pressed his open mouth to hers, forcing his
tongue into her mouth, and grabbing roughly at her breasts, mauling
them through her dress.  Even though he was forcing her to bend over
backwards as he assaulted her, I saw her hand reach up and slip into
his jacket pocket.  Her hand came out with the knife, and she shook
her head to get him off of her.  He wasn't going to be discouraged
quite that easily, and so she bit him on the lip, drawing blood, and
pushed him away from her as she stepped back, and pressed the button
that released the blade.  She held it awkwardly in her hand,
brandishing it in front of her.

Jilly stumbled back a couple of steps, bringing his hand up to his
bleeding lip.  He wiped off his mouth, and then looked at the blood
on his fingers.  He looked up at Molly in amazement.  "What the fuck
did you do that for?" he asked.  He sounded honestly confused by it.
"You know I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson now.  A painful
lesson."

"Get away from me," she snarled.  "Back off, Jilly, I mean it.  I'll
kill you if I have to."  She held the knife out in front of her like
a shield.

He just laughed insolently, and, quick as a rattlesnake strike,
snatched her wrist, yanking the knife away from her easily.

He sneered, "You think I'm afraid to die?  You cunt, I ain't afraid
of death.  But I'll bet you are, aren't you, Princess?"  He drew his
hand back, ready to strike out with the sharp blade.  His face was a
mask of fury and betrayal.  "Or are you afraid of getting that pretty
little prom queen face marked up?"  He flicked the blade before her
eyes, just inches away, teasing her.  I struggled to my feet,
suddenly fearful for Molly's life, and afraid for my own safety.
Joey and Harold and Vinnie were standing there, staring at the
tableau as if transfixed, unmoving as they watched their leader
continue on his path toward what was quickly deteriorating into a
potentially deadly course of action.  Jilly flicked the blade toward
Molly's face again, and I stuck my arm out to ward off the attack.  I
felt the blade cut, but there was no pain.  I had the odd sensation
of feeling the sharp edge scrape against bone, a shuddering rasp that
transmitted all the way up to my shoulder, and blood coursed down my
arm, dripping from my elbow onto the pavement.  I looked stupidly at
the slash through my suit coat and shirt, which were quickly getting
soaked with my blood.  I had a moment to wonder at the sight before
the pain hit.  My knees got weak, and I got a little light-headed
from shock.  I saw Jilly pull back his arm for another thrust.  With
a curled lip, he snarled, "I ain't afraid of dying," and his arm came
forward, the knife slashing toward Molly's terrified face.

And his arm suddenly stopped.  Jilly's eyes bugged out in surprise
and rage, just as a deep voice said from behind him, "You aren't
afraid to die.  But are you afraid of a little pain?"

Jilly turned around, his arm still held in a viselike grip, and
looked straight ahead to see who had interrupted him.  His eyes ended
up level with a huge chest, and his head swiveled up to finally gaze
at Tiny Harrison, who was towering over Jilly, dwarfing him as he
held the hand with the knife up and away from them.

Tiny repeated, "Are you afraid of pain, Del Toro?"   Jilly twisted,
fury suffusing him.  Perhaps he thought he could wrench his hand
away, but Tiny was implacable as he held Jilly's arm perfectly still
in his meaty grip.  Jilly yanked harder, and then screamed as his
shoulder separated, and his now useless hand dropped the knife.  He
still had enough fire and insanity in him to think he might still be
able to fight his way out of it, though, so he stupidly stood
straight up, holding his ruined shoulder, and spit in Tiny's face.
Tiny's face got  tight, and as he wiped the spittle from his cheek,
he took one step backwards, reared back, and kicked straight up, as
if he was kicking a field goal, catching Jilly square in the crotch.
Jilly's body was lifted up about two feet off the ground by the force
of the kick, and his eyes bugged out in shock.  Jilly croaked, his
eyes wide and unseeing as he landed roughly, and he doubled over, his
one good arm moving to cradle his crushed testicles, and he dropped
to the ground in agony.  He landed on his separated shoulder, making
the bones grind together, but I didn't think he even noticed, the
pain from his groin overriding all other receptors in his overloaded
brain.

Joey Amonte took one look at Tiny, standing there over Del Toro, and
he made an about-face to try to escape, but only was able to take one
step before Jake, coming out of the shadows, grabbed him by the
collar.

"Not so fast, motherfucker," Jake said threateningly.  He grabbed
Joey's arm and twisted it viciously back behind him in a hammerlock.
Joey sucked in his breath in pain, and stopped moving, knowing that
Jake was only a few centimeters from breaking his arm.  Meanwhile,
Eric, Austin, Jorge, Paco, and Trent appeared, circling the car,
surrounding Harold and Vinnie as they stood there, rooted by the
spectacle of their leader squirming on the ground, moaning in agony.

Molly cried out, "Does somebody know first-aid?  Sean's bleeding!"
She grabbed my arm, and rockets of pain shot up me.  I fell to my
knees, bleeding all over the parking lot, about to pass out.

"Somebody run back into the school, and call an ambulance," called
Jake.

"No, wait," cried Tessa.  "We won't be able to explain all this to
anybody.  Quick, get him in the car, and we'll drive him to the
emergency room."  Jorge and Eric each took one side, and as gently as
they could, lifted me up and guided me to Eric's car, parked just a
few spaces down from mine, and they helped me to slump down in the
front seat.

As I was sitting there, holding my bleeding arm up to try to ease
the flow, a small hand thrust a belt in through the open window.
Eric, in the driver's seat, grabbed it and wound it around my arm
tightly to help slow the bleeding.  It hurt a lot, but everything
hurt.  I couldn't tell anymore what part of me hurt the worst.

"Thanks," he called out.

A pale, worried face, framed by white-blonde hair cascading down
over her shoulders, appeared by the window.

"You're welcome," Kayla said, tears glistening in her eyes.  "It's
Jake's.  I just took it from him."

I just had time to focus on her concerned look, trying to convey my
appreciation, before I zoned out.




(Continued in Chapter 20)
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