Chapter 3: Kimberly Yoppe's Fury

Words : 1525 Updated : Sep 11th, 2025

"Be a sweetheart and help me!" Alex Hayde had barely reached the bed when he was seized and held tight. Kimberly Yoppe clung to him, feverish to the touch, arms and legs winding around him like someone desperate for warmth. He was torn. She had been drugged; if anything happened, it would look like he was taking advantage. The thought nagged at him even as her fingers tugged open his shirt, then the next button, and the next. Before he could decide, she had him moving to her rhythm. Then his control snapped. Heat surged through him until everything went white-hot. Damn it, he told himself, he hadn't gone looking for this; she had pulled him in of her own accord. He pinned her down, tore at her clothes, and in moments they were both stripped bare, their young bodies tangled together in the dim, cramped hotel room. Her body remained fever-hot, and he had no experience to draw on; he reached his limit quickly. But the drug was still coursing through her, and she wouldn't let him go. He was young and full of energy and barely kept up. The two of them thrashed about for who knew how long, and only deep into the night did they finally collapse, spent, and drift into a heavy sleep. Smack! By morning, Alex was still dreaming when a sharp sting blossomed on his cheek. He jolted awake. He scrambled upright. Kimberly stood fully dressed at the foot of the bed, her face hard as ice, tear tracks still visible at the corners of her eyes. "Why did you hit me?" he blurted, still groggy. "You've got some nerve. I never imagined someone your age could stoop so low. I'm telling you, you're finished." She jabbed a finger in his face, every word laced with fury. Panic pricked him. He felt wronged. He had meant to help, and last night she had driven everything from start to finish. But he was a man and she a woman. In this kind of mess, the story would be hers to tell. He was not stupid. He steadied himself and made up his mind to strike first and deflect the blame. "What gives you the right to hit me? I wasn't the one who drugged you. I warned you at the time and you wouldn't listen. Afterward I kept trying to help, and then you were the one who kept insisting I-well, that we do it. Now you're here to blame me? Do you have any conscience at all?" She hadn't expected him to turn on a dime and accuse her so self-righteously. "Are you even a man? You knew I'd been set up. Why did you take advantage of me when I was vulnerable?" "So that's it," Alex said. "You mean I should've stayed out of it last night. I was the one who ruined your little deal with that Denford fellow. I butted in where I shouldn't, is that it?" His words took the wind out of her. This kid could really talk, making it sound as if he was the one hard done by, as if she had taken advantage of him. Kimberly gave a harsh, mirthless laugh, her eyes burning holes through him. "Don't think you can talk your way out of this. You did wrong, and there's a price for that. Just you wait. I'll make you pay." She tossed that icy warning over her shoulder, opened the door, and left. Alex stood alone in the little hotel room, uneasy to the bone. He had done his best to argue his way out, but Ms. Yoppe of Hasson was no pushover. She wasn't going to buy any of it. The truth was, Alex's family was ordinary, with no backing. Kimberly might have been a woman, but she was a township official-a local authority who could make things difficult with a single call. Dealing with Alex would have been child's play for her. He felt a tight, sour anger in his chest. He had acted out of kindness. How had it come to this? He had already offended Lionel Denford, who was no saint, and now the very township head he had tried to help, Ms. Yoppe, hated his guts. Thinking about what lay ahead made his head pound. What on earth was he supposed to do? He jumped out of bed, dressed, and made the bed in a hurry. At the door he realized his ID card was missing. He had no time to worry about it. He hadn't come home all night, and that weighed heavier than anything. He checked out and hurried home. The moment he stepped inside, the air felt wrong. His mother was scrubbing the table, sighing under her breath. His father sat wearing a stormy look, drawing hard on a cigarette. "Mom, Dad, what happened? Is everything okay at home?" Alex asked, nerves tightening. "Hmph. And you still have the face to ask. A college student, and you can't even serve a dish without offending people? Where were you last night?" He couldn't very well explain what he'd been doing. Clearly something had blown up. He turned to his mother. "Mom, what's going on?" "Denford left furious last night," she said. "Said you offended them, and that he'd run our family restaurant out of business." At that, Alex's temper boiled over. He could take Kimberly's outburst; she was a woman, and he had taken advantage, whether he meant to or not. But Denford? What right did he have? Coming into their own place to throw his weight around? He couldn't stomach that. "Don't worry," he told his parents. "Denford's just talking big. If he really tries to push us around, we won't just take it. He puts his pants on one leg at a time-no different from the rest of us."

Chapter 3: Kimberly Yoppe's Fury

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