To Die For

Chapter Three

Bruce Lee With a Vagina

Another thing she was beginning to like about Corpus Christi (which she had lovingly dubbed Corpse City) was the nice bike riding weather. She had missed the San Francisco wind and fog at first, but South Texas’ warm weather with its gratifying breezes was very pleasant to bike in. Eaving glanced down at the piece of paper again, trying to re-read the directions.

“Ah, Summerwoods… Turn right…” She was surprised that her uncles were working in such a rural place. It was such a drastic change from San Francisco.

Well, it was sort of charming. Every turn had a little bakery shop waiting for her, and the smells were incredible. Two lefts ago, she had taken in a deep breath and then had an instant craving for apple pie. And strangely, chili. The little shops that littered some parts of the town were so quaint. Eaving smiled at all the small, local art shops; a few of them had miniature horse figurines displayed in their windows.

She had hated the idea of moving. She hated being away from her only friend. Mallory had stood up for her when everybody else called her the Chinese Hulk. Or worse—Bruce Lee With a Vagina. She was used to San Francisco and its busy streets, colorful people and most of all—Asians! Here, she thought she had seen one somewhere in her neighborhood, but the girl had disappeared like a ghost. Morgan was pretty cool though, Eaving admitted to herself. Everyone here was actually pretty nice.

Except for the Dell. Eaving shuddered. Oh, hmm, and the gorilla…

It’s okay; she only had to put up with those idiots for seven hours, five days of the week. Why she had to have every single class with him was beyond her. Tomorrow, she vowed, she would not let him get the best of her. She would just ignore, ignore, and ignore. Be the better person, and whatnot.

Though…. If he was dead, she would be the better person by default. Right? Eaving shook her head from her murderous train of thought.

Parking her bike at the curb, Eaving took a look at the address on her paper and then up at the place it corresponded to.

“Whoa…” She breathed.

To say that the place was huge would have to be an understatement. It was a tall, imposing mansion in the middle of a sprawling ranch. Eaving had seen similar looking ranches before…if similar meant much, much smaller and maybe one or two horses. Here, she could see that off to the side, further near a grove of trees, was a stable that was probably the size of her own house.

“Everything is super sized in Texas,” Eaving muttered. What were her uncles doing here? Were they secretly cowboys? The image of her uncles riding horses and shouting “yee-haw!” just did not sit well with her. Taking in a deep breath, she rang the doorbell and waited until an elderly man in an expensive looking suit opened the door.

“Yes?” He squinted at her.

“Hello… Um, I’m here for my uncles?” Eaving attempted several discreet tugs at her skirt and hoped it didn’t make her look like she was having a seizure.

“Ah, yes, Eaving!” He smiled, his bushy peppered mustache curling upwards with his lips. He gestured her with a white-gloved finger to come inside. “Please come in.”

As soon as she walked in, Eaving felt the cold relief of the AC. If she had thought the mansion was huge from the outside… Boy, she was really in for a punch in the face at the size of the interior. The ceilings were just about sky-high, decorated elegantly with drooping chandeliers and Italian paintings. Everything looked so expensive, from the little crystal figurines and trinkets and odd little wooden knickknacks to the antique furniture and gleaming marbled floors.

“Wow, this place is pretty posh.” She resisted the urge to touch everything.

“This is the guest living room,” the old man spoke as they walked through the large room, furnished only by an impressive leather couch and an all-glass coffee table. An old grandfather clock stood proudly against the wall. “The young master of the house loves to aggravate his parents by sleeping in here after his late night escapades.”

Hmm. Interesting. She wondered if the 'young master' was her uncles' client.

“What a rebel,” Eaving said sarcastically.

“With a girl or two.” He finished.

Eaving’s face fell.

“A little further down to your right is the family parlor," he told her. “We will be joining your uncles in the recreation room.”

“Just what exactly are they doing?” She murmured, still looking around the place.

“I think they are training the young master how to fight. There has been a few attacks on him recently,” He replied with a gentle smile. “Would you like something to drink? Cold milk?”

Eaving smiled back a little awkwardly. “No thanks. Ah--may I ask for your name?”

“You may. It is Edward Sanchez, but people around here just call me Ed. I'm the butler of this household."

“Wow! I have never met a butler before!” The words left her mouth much faster than she would have liked. She cleared her throat, embarrassed.

He laughed, the sound deep and booming. Eaving couldn't help but think of her own grandfather back in China.

“Let me guess… Judging by your accent, you were raised in California.”

“Californians have an accent?” She asked, surprised.

“Sure do.” He opened a door and waited for her to go inside. “Your uncles are in here. Let me know if you need anything. Marissa’s got some cheesecake goin’ if y’all want some.”

Eaving nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Ed."

As soon as he left, she turned around to face her uncles. All of them were peering at her curiously.

Her eldest uncle spoke first, one Kuo eyebrow raised. “Is the Britney Spears look coming back?”

Eaving rolled her eyes, giving up on trying to tug her skirt to make it look longer. “I forgot my uniform. This belongs to a cute little Blonde hobbit I made friends with.”

Uncle #4 snorted. “You? Making friends?”

“With something cute?” Interjected Uncle #5.

“Blonde?” Added Uncle #1.

Eaving threw her backpack at them, successfully hitting Uncle #4 in the shoulder. “I can be friendly.”

They looked at her skeptically. Then, Uncle #1 threw something black at her. Actually, several things black.

“Here, change into that.” He told her, directing to a back room. “We’re gonna need your help today.”

There were black pants, a black shirt, a black beanie, and a facemask. “Sweet. Which bank?”

Uncle #1 shook his head. “No, no. You’re just going to disguise yourself as an attacker."

“Okay…?”

“We want to assess how well our client can react to a physical attack,” Uncle #2 explained.

"Why can't one of you do it?"

"It's funnier when you do it," Uncle #5 replied.

She hesitated, then thought about what Ed had said about the 'young master' of the house. “Can I go all out on their ass?"

They shook their heads rigorously in unison. “No!”

“Okay, okay... Just asking.” Eaving said, heading to the back room to change.

Her uncle threw to her an oversized black coat as well. “Put that on too. Can’t have him thinking you’re a girl. It’ll change the way he would normally react.”

“Right.” Eaving nodded, then disappeared.

A few minutes later, she re-emerged in baggy cargo pants, an oversized t-shirt, and a puffed out jacket. “Is it terrible that I kinda like this?”

Her uncles gave her weird looks. But at least they didn’t flat out disapprove.

“The face mask can go,” she quickly amended.

Uncle #5 coughed. “Yes. Because that’s the only thing ugly about that outfit.”

Eaving laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Well, it’s a lot better than wearing a skirt every single day.”

“Shh, shh—I think I hear him coming.” Uncle #1 alerted them, motioning for Eaving to go hide near the door. “Right when he says something, you attack.”

Eaving bounded for the wall near the door like a rabbit. She was definitely more excited for this than she was supposed to be. Uncle #4 looked a little worried.

“Okay, he’s coming now. Eaving, be ready. Remember, go easy on him.” Uncle #4 said.

Eaving gave him two thumbs up. Sure enough, the door opened and a male’s voice spoke. A very familiar, male voice.

“Oh… Hey, you guys my new trainers?”

To say that Eaving pounced would have given her too much credit. She slammed into him, elbow knocking into his ribcage, and dragged him down onto the hardwood floors. Unfortunately for him, they were a little bit away from the mats.

“What the fuck is going on?” He asked, struggling. He managed to roughly push her off, but she rolled sideways and easily got up to her feet the same time he did.

“We’re assessing you,” Uncle #2 told him. “Pretend you’re being attacked. Defend yourself.”

He flexed his jaw, then shook himself. “Alright. Come get it.”

Eaving smiled, more than happy to oblige. She had been wanting to do so all day at school. Without further invitation, she ran at him and delivered a hand strike, but he blocked it rather easily.

So, he’s had some training before.

Eaving felt a little thrill rush down her spine. This could only get more fun. She ducked low to his waist to avoid his fist swipe, and turned in a graceful arc for a low kick. He landed soundly on his back, and by his intake of breath, she could tell that she had just knocked the wind out of his lungs.

She put a foot on his chest, pressing down hard. Her uncles had told her to go easy, but she was never that obedient anyway.

“Fuck off,” he snarled, twisting her foot. She went flying to the floor.

Okay, maybe he was better than she had given him credit for. He got to his feet and put his fists up, ready for more.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Uncle #1 interrupted.

No way.

Eaving rushed at him and in one swift motion, she flipped him over her shoulder and he was back on the floor. Then, she straddled him to keep him in place. A hand went out to grip him by his neck, and she looked down at him triumphantly. But then he winced slightly in pain, and her attention was quickly drawn to the bruised side of his face. Feeling guilty, she released her hold on his jugular.

“Eaving, I said enough. Let go of the poor boy.” Uncle #1 said.

“Eaving?” The guy beneath her furrowed his eyebrows. “You—you’re a girl?”

“No, I think they should continue. This is quite an interesting picture.” Uncle #4 chuckled. “It’s not every day I get to see my niece go after a boy.”

“Ugh! Never!” She protested.

“Then why are you still on top of me? Not that I’m complaining.” A slow smirk blossomed on the guy’s face. “Eaving... Eaving... Why does that name sound so familar? Oh! The Chinese Amazon in school.”

She removed herself from him faster than a speeding bullet. “You are a pig.” She was surprised that he had remembered her name; she couldn't really remember his.

He laughed, and Eaving had to admit that he did have a very nice laugh. Low and confident. But still an asshole.

“Oink, oink, oink.” He turned to her uncles. “So, how’d I do?”

“Not bad,” Uncle #4 complimented.

“But not good enough,” Eaving added snidely. “I kicked your ass pretty easily.”

“But baby, you’ve been at it all day, so I’d say you’ve had a running start.” He pointed to his bruise.

Her uncles didn’t look too pleased at him calling her ‘baby’, but they were much more interested in how she had given him such a shiner.

“Aiiiya… You did that to him?” Uncle #3 shook his head.

“Yeah, what about ‘I’m friendly’?” Uncle #2 asked.

Eaving smiled thinly. “I wasn’t extending that sentiment towards egotistic prep boys.”

Uncle #5 feigned terror. “She’s getting angry… You can always tell when she’s getting angry if she uses her 5 dollar words.”

The Dell laughed, but then quickly winced in pain. “Ah, now I can’t even laugh at the warrior princess.”

Quick to take the attention off of herself, Eaving cleared her throat. “Shushu, don't tell me you're all going to train him. Uncle #1, you could have just trained this idiot here yourself.”

"Idiot still here." The Dell massaged his shoulder gingerly.

“I am. The rest of your uncles are going to be setting up their own place next week. I figured they could help me train him meanwhile. ”

"Or eat free food," uncle #4 muttered.

Eaving rubbed her face with a hand. Then, she turned to Lucas. “See what happens when you’re a jerk face? People go after you.”

“And you’re jerk face’s bodyguard.” Her uncle said.

Eaving felt her heart drop to her stomach, and coincidentally, her lunch rise up. “I’m what now?”

“His bodyguard.”

Eaving groaned.

“So that’s why you have so many classes with me,” Lucas remarked.

“Try all of them,” Eaving corrected bitterly. She turned to Uncle #1. “You never told me about this." Her eyes widened. “This was how I was able to get into Wolf Lane, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, in order for you to protect Lucas effectively, you have to go to the same school.” Uncle #1 admitted. “Plus, it made your dad happy you got into a good school."

She hated when they used the Pa card on her. Eaving was livid, her anger growing paramount. How could they not know what that meant for her? That meant that she was in debt to the Dell and his family, and now she didn’t even have an option to be nice to him. She had to be. One look at his smug face and she could tell that, oh, he knew.

“I know he may look stupid, but if you train him well enough, I'm sure he won’t need a bodyguard.” Eaving hadn't meant to sound so harsh; after all, she hadn't known Lucas that long yet. “I mean—that’s your job!”

“His parents were very persistent. I believe that it’s necessary, and I trust your skills enough to be able to protect him and train him when I’m not there at school with him.”

“Plus, he can introduce you to some new friends!” Uncle #3 suggested. Eaving shot him a death glare.

“Why does he even need protection? Is somebody out to kill him or something? Or is this pretty common with all stuck-up, rich snobs?” Eaving spat.

“Stuck-up, rich snob still in the room,” Lucas said. "You wound me, kitten."

“That’s because you don’t know how to defend yourself properly,” uncle #1 said. “But after a month or two, you will.”

"I've had some training before," he told them.

"Yes, but from what your parents have told me, the fighting styles you've learned aren't very handy in the real word." Uncle #1 shook his head. "No, you need something that will be quick, efficient, and something that'll call for quick reflexes."

"Eaving will help you," Uncle #3 added.

He turned to meet Eaving's gaze. "You can help me anytime."

“Go die."

He gave her a smile, one that never quite reached his eyes. “Baby, I’m hungry. Let’s discuss this over some food.”

Her uncles were already collecting their things to leave. They never trained on the day of assessment. Uncle #3 turned to her. “Eaving, you can stay and talk to him if you want. His parents wanted to meet you, anyway. They’ll be home pretty soon.”

“Meet me? Why?”

“Because you’re going to be my Amazon warrior princess, that’s why.” Lucas drawled.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Eaving said. “And I am not going to be your bodyguard.”

“Just be home by 8 o’clock.” Uncle #1 said over his shoulder.

“We’ll try to save some of the pork dumplings!” Uncle #5 called out, already out the door.

"Wait--what? I'm not staying! I am not going to be his bodyguard!" Eaving watched them all ignore her.

One by one, they left her.

Lucas made a funny noise at the back of his throat, but when she turned her attention towards him, he was a mask again. Unreadable. She thought about murdering him right here and then. Oh, the irony would be hilarious.

"I am not going to be your bodyguard," she repated. "Because I'm going to end up killing you."

“Relax, baby.” When she wouldn’t give up her scowling, he tried another tactic. “Lasagna?”

As hateful as she was of him, her stomach sure didn’t mind the sound of some food. Betraying her anger and giving into her traitorous stomach, she nodded. “Fine, but if you piss me off while I eat, I won’t hesitate to shove my fork up your ass.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty.”

She shoved him out the door. He held up a hand. “Wait!”

"We normally don't wear facemasks at the dinner table."

“Just shut up.” She pulled the facemask over her head. Her hair felt pretty heavy on top of her head, so Eaving removed the hair tie and let her black hair cascade down from its messy bun.

“What?” Eaving snapped when she realized Lucas was staring at her with an inexplicable expression his face.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Once they got to the kitchen, Eaving wasn’t surprised when her eyes took in the grandeur of the place. Every single counter, every surface was made with the finest granite marble, shimmering black-green. There was an island that curved in an almost L-shape in the middle of the kitchen, and a bar neatly to the side, stocked with pretty expensive looking liquor.

A pretty, middle-aged woman was busy pulling baked lasagna from the oven. She had short brown hair and wore comfortable slacks with a sleeveless gray top. Eaving had suspected something more… dramatic, like Edward with his caterpillar mustache and fancy suit.

“What the hell do you do with two refrigerators?” She asked, gulping down the cheesy lasagna. Oh, hot, hot, hot. Oh, but so yummy.

He smiled at her, seemingly unaffected by her cave womanly ways. “Well, you tell me what we should do with all of Marissa’s cooking. She cooks more than we can eat.”

Marissa tittered and batted him on the arm. She put a decadent chocolate cheesecake between the two of them. Lucas eyed Eaving warily and surreptitiously leaned over to the woman. “We might need two.”

“I can hear you, stupid. I am sitting right next to you.”

Lucas ignored her. “Y'all are pretty interesting.”

Eaving’s eyebrows shot up. “My uncles? And interesting, how?”

“You call them by numbers?” He asked, mildly amused.

“Trust me,” she replied, “ When you live with that many uncles, it is much easier. In my language, it makes sense. Plus, I can’t really remember all of their names sometimes.”

“You live with all of them?” His eyes followed her tongue as it licked a trail of chocolate syrup on her fork.

“Yup. Ever since I was a baby.”

“Just exactly how many people do you have in your household? I mean, you got your uncles, your aunts, your parents…”

“Nope. Just my dad and my uncles.” She reached for another slice.

“Your mom…?”

Eaving sighed, putting down her fork. “She ran away with another woman when I was a baby. Look, can we save the interrogation for when your parents get here?”

He looked bewildered. “A woman?”

“Yes. The little hussy was hot.” Eaving brandished the fork at him. “Stop asking me so many questions while I eat.”

“Can I ask you questions after you eat?”

“No.” Eaving gulped down some milk. “Who’s out to get you?”

Lucas leaned back against his chair lazily, his eyes lowering. In the soft, orange-hued light of the kitchen, his eyes glowed in an indolent blue. “Don’t know.”

“Well, do you have any clue? Or do you aggravate that many people?” Eaving asked, exasperated.

“People are jealous, baby.”

She scoffed, even though what he said probably had a ring of truth to it. Why not? He was wealthy, largely considered handsome (obviously not by her!), and he was an asshole who was rewarded and got away with things. She wouldn’t be surprised if somebody at school was trying to teach him a lesson. Hell, she would have done it herself.

“Is it someone at school?” She asked. “Is poor widdle rich boy getting bullied?”

“That’s up to the people my dad hired to find out.” He paused, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “But no, I don’t think so.”

“Can you please not be so worried?” Eaving asked sarcastically.

“Why should I be?” His teeth flashed. “I have my little crouching kitten, don’t I?”

Eaving looked up to scowl at him, but that was a bad idea. She noticed that his eyes were fixated on her mouth, and suddenly her mouth felt very dry. She licked her lips, but that seemed to make everything worse. His eyes danced a kind of wildfire blue as they followed every flick of her tongue. Eaving felt her palms get a little sweaty. What was he thinking? Eaving had been trained by her uncles to read people, but it was so hard to read him. Eaving felt herself squirm slightly, hating herself for letting him get to her again.

“Do I have food on my face or something?” She snapped.

“Yeah, just a little something to the side there.” He pointed to the side of his own face.

Eaving frowned, trying to dust the offending particle off her face. “Did I get it?”

He shook his head, then leaned forward. Suddenly, she was very aware of his broad shoulders and his heat and that scent of his… Eaving cleared her throat. Must be the raging teenage hormones trying to come out, she told herself. That just meant lots of meditation tonight.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping.” He brushed a thumb across her cheek.

A breath hitched in her throat and without thinking, she found herself grabbing his hand and twisting it.

“Fuck, you're strong," he swore.

She released his hand. “I thought we had already established that.”

“You tell him!” Marissa encouraged. She had been watching the two of them the entire time.

Eaving couldn't help but feel guilty for hurting him again. “Sorry. Reflexes, you know?”

He shrugged. “I don't even want to know what would happen if I had done something else.”

“What?”

He was quick, she’d give him that. Before she could say anything else, he had leaned over again and quickly licked her cheek. Licked. Her. Cheek. With his tongue! She nearly fell out of her stool. Marissa gasped.

“Mmmm…. Cheesecake.” He licked his lower lip. “And a hint of lasagna.”

Her fists balled up and she grabbed her fork viciously. He merely laughed. Oh, he was going to get it. Certainly, the Dell had a death wish. Just then, a couple walked in and all of her murderous intentions had to be put on hold. Ed was right behind him, chuckling softly. Eaving must have realized how she looked then; her hair was like a swallow's nest, she had a crazy look in her eyes, and she was holding a fork dangerously to Lucas' neck.

“Oh, look, Fred! She is so adorable.”A tall, slender woman cooed. She had plale bonde hair and her eyes were the exact shade of Lucas'.

Fred, on the other hand, looked like an older replica of Lucas. “I thought they said she was manly?"

Eaving groaned. It was going to be a long night.

Author’s note: my goodness. I regret writing her with so many uncles now. It’s true though about the name forgetting. I really don’t know any of my aunt’s names. But I’m Vietnamese, so I just call my aunts “aunt #1, #2, #6….”

Again, thanks for reading!