Sin & Savior

CHAPTER 5, PART 1

"You can't guard me. You KNOW you can't." Scarlett churned the words from the pit of her stomach as she crossed Seraphina over near the top of the key and went for a left-handed lay-up, securing 2 points for her practice team. She lived for this: these moments where she could revel in her prowess and power. It never hurt that she nearly always had the opportunity to one-up Seraphina in their long-standing rivalry over who was the better athlete.

Seraphina knew what it was. She was less physically gifted, less naturally adept at reading plays before they began, and far less talented with spot-up shooting. But that didn't stop her from giving it her all when tasked with guarding Scarlett—something she, as the second-best player on the team, was almost always assigned to do. Despite this, Seraphina never backed down from competition, a trait both she and Scarlett shared. The A side of their practice team was up by 13 points, with Scarlett having scored 28 on Seraphina so far, with a quarter and a half to go. Meanwhile, Seraphina had scored 22 on Scarlett and was determined to add 3 more as she hit the arc on their drive back down the court.

The instances where they'd beaten or lost to one another by only 1-3 points were numerous, yet Scarlett had consistently come out on top more often, holding a 58.4% win rate against Seraphina. She had no intention of letting that slip. Academically, they were much closer, both being head and shoulders above everyone else in their graduating class. Yet, in this realm as well as others, Scarlett always seemed to edge her out—a fact Seraphina hated more than anything else.

As much as she wanted to blame Scarlett for every ill in her life, she knew she couldn't. Especially not after what happened the following week. She fouled Scarlett hard on her way up for the layup, daring her to hit both free throws and commanding her presence as something not to be ignored.

"What the FUCK, BITCH?!?!" Scarlett yelled from the floor, scrambling to her feet. "TOUCH ME AGAIN, AND SEE WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS TO YOU, HOE!!" she hollered from beneath the rim. Charging towards Seraphina with murder on her mind, she suddenly noticed a shadowed figure at the far edge of the court. She saw both his silhouette and the fear in Seraphina's eyes rise to meet the occasion. Scarlett stopped short, looking between Seraphina and the silhouette. "Be grateful, bitch, that I have better things to take care of," she said, striding off towards the rear double doors to confront her target.

Seraphina hadn't had an easy week. In fact, the prior week had been one of the most difficult she'd ever faced. In her current state, she hadn't meant to antagonize Scarlett, but the uncertainty of whether she might end up in prison, whether she was pregnant, or whether more nefarious things were happening around her had her shaken to her core. If only she were better at understanding others' lives, perhaps she could have avoided her relationship troubles and everything else that had befallen her.

Lost in her thoughts, Scarlett turned around mid-stride and punched Seraphina full-force in the back of the head. "Fuck the tech, bitch! Don't you EVER AGAIN in your LIFE put your fucking hands on me like that," she said, as teammates grappled and dragged her to the sidelines while Seraphina dropped to the floor in need of assistance. The ref's whistle rang out sharply as they threw the flag, ejecting Scarlett from the game. Seraphina spat onto the floor and howled "BITCH" in the only response she could muster.

"Get the fuck off me!!!" Scarlett screamed, elbowing and fighting the women holding her until they released their grip. She walked away towards the rear of the court, angered and assailed. She threw a sharp look back at Seraphina before storming towards the unrecognizable figure in the corner, who seemed to be holding a notepad. "Excuse me....who are you, and what are you doing in my practice?" she demanded, ready for a confrontation.

"Hahahaha," he chuckled. "That's none of your business, girl," the man said behind his notepad. He was tall, around 6'3", with an incredibly deep voice. Baritone, but with a hint of sarcasm. Scarlett walked directly up to him and lowered his notepad with her hand.

"I don't know what kind of fucking creep you are, BUT," she said sharply, "you are NOT permitted to be here drawing my girls while they play. I'm not sure what job you do here at this university, but if I catch you doing this creep shit again, I'll make sure you lose your job."

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA," he laughed, unfazed by her words. He raised his notepad again, then moved it aside and spoke to her pertly, "I like that. Make that face again, but with a little more poise and a little more anger...K?" he said, giggling as if she were a petulant child.

"Oh....okay. You think this is a game. Bet," she said, walking off and pointing back at him. "Stay right there," she instructed before disappearing through a set of grainy double doors.

She returned 15 minutes later with four burly university security guards, who walked beside her like a CIA detail. "Get this pervert the hell out of here, please," she said in a sweet, manipulative tone, as though she'd been hurt or harmed by him. The guards complied, but not before asking the man why he was there. When he responded, "I don't have to tell you a damn thing. Keep your hands off me," they quickly did the opposite, dragging him by his neck and feet in an airborne rear-naked chokehold out onto the concrete walkway, leaving him there before locking the doors behind him.

As Ronel landed with a thud on the concrete, he couldn't fathom how he'd been treated. Never in all his years as a professional artist had he been in a physical altercation on the job. This behavior was tactless, uncouth, and unacceptable. Furious as he was, he recognized an opportunity when he saw one. This was how he would get Baker to negotiate up to the $25 million mark he'd wanted for his personal commission and mural. He laughed silently to himself as he mulled over the conversations to come. He slowly pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed 312-606-1602: Gianmarco's number.

"Hello?" Gianmarco said sharply into the phone, knowing who was calling and caring little about why. "Your presence is required on the basketball court. Are you still inside the campus?" Ronel said with a sneer. "There's a mess that's been made there, and you're the clean-up crew. Move your ass and get there as quick as you can: understood?" he said matter-of-factly, his dickish aura returning immediately.

"Find security, or a 'Scarlett.' She seems to be an important player on the team and has access to them. Let them know, in your best legalese, why you and I are allowed unfettered access to the basketball court whenever we want, and be a smart-ass about it. Am I clear? She told me she saw you walking around in that pretentious suit earlier and that you looked like an asshole: so this isn't just for me. It's for your honor's sake as well.""Understood," Gianmarco replied, not believing a word Ronel said but knowing he had to follow orders regardless of his own personal feelings. But he'd be sure to navigate the situation in his own way before he'd ever take a rigid directly from Sorgic to heart. "Fuck him.".