Chapter 7: Compensation
Roy Cobb couldn't find anyone to go out with, so in the end, he stayed behind. Everyone knew the real reason the story of the fight had leaked so quickly was because Cobb had been called in for a talk with Lieutenant Sobel early the next morning of the incident. Of course, that didn't stop Rhys and the others from going out to have fun. It was just that after the incident, they were a bit more cautious, trying their best to avoid conflict with the townspeople.
"Hey, Parks, I just saw that guy," White said, nudging Rhys with his elbow. "You think he's going to cause trouble for us again?"
Ed Tipper, who was looking ahead, tensed up. "I think… you might be right about that," he said involuntarily. He could see Clint and two of his companions walking toward them. It was clear Clint had seen them, too.
"What do you want?" Before Clint could even speak, a nervous White stood up and confronted him aggressively.
At that, Rhys and Tipper also stood. Apart from Rhys, who could look at the three men calmly, Tipper was also visibly tense, his hands instinctively clenching into fists.
"Hey, relax, fellas!" Seeing their reaction and remembering how tough Rhys was, Clint took an involuntary step back. He quickly held up his hands and forced a smile. "I'm not here to cause trouble."
"Then say what you have to say," Rhys said with a frown.
"It's like this… we'd like to buy you guys a drink," Clint said, looking awkward and a little embarrassed.
"Is this an apology?" Rhys asked, looking at Clint. "Or are you trying to declare a truce?"
Clint's face reddened. The big man stood there, completely at a loss. He forced another smile. "Look, it was all over a girl. There's no need for bad blood. I'd like to buy you a drink, as an apology. If you're willing to accept it, of course."
"Alright! We accept!" Tipper said quickly.
Rhys glanced at Tipper. Seeing that White was also nodding, he smiled. So, let's have a drink to our truce." With that, Rhys raised his beer from the table and gestured toward Clint.
"Beer, Auntie Emma!" Clint was overjoyed and immediately shouted for the waitress.
The six men raised their beer mugs.
"To the truce," Rhys said with a smile.
"To friendship," Tipper added.
"To peace!" Clint's contribution nearly made Rhys spit out his beer with laughter.
Of course, this was just an interlude. It wasn't as if Clint and Rhys's group would instantly become friends. After they finished their drinks, Clint's group went back to their own table.
"Alright, one more beer and then I'm heading back," Rhys said, ordering another.
"Parks, do you ever stay out all night?" Tipper asked, confused.
White started to laugh. "Maybe you really did damage your brain when you hit that pillar. Ever since then, you haven't spent a single night outside the camp. Oh, that's not good news for your old flames!"
"Even though Clint apologized, I still don't want a repeat of last time," Rhys said. "Don't forget about Sobel."
"Damn it, Parks, why do you have to bring up Sobel in a fun place like this?" Tipper grumbled. "You nearly ruined a night of passion and excitement for me."
As the three of them were joking around, White suddenly tapped Rhys's hand again. He grinned and looked over Rhys's shoulder, whispering, "Parks, I think your luck is about to change!"
"What?" Rhys turned to follow White's gaze. A hot, blonde bombshell was walking gracefully toward them. It was Jennifer Leach, the bar owner's daughter.
"Mind if I sit down?" Jennifer Leach asked, but she was already sliding into the seat opposite Rhys, giving him a playful smile.
"Yes—I mean, no problem, not at all." Rhys shrugged. He'd only gotten halfway through his sentence before she was already seated, so he just held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"What can I get you? A beer?" White was always attentive to pretty girls.
"No, I'll get it myself," Jennifer said, turning to the side and calling out, "Auntie Emma, a glass of brandy!"
"Whoa," Tipper whistled.
"Would you three like one?" Jennifer asked, taking a sip of her brandy and smiling at them. Her eyes landed on Rhys again as she raised her glass. "My treat."
Rhys looked at the expectant expressions on Tipper and White's faces and couldn't help but nod. "Alright, we'll have one."
After downing the glass, a rosy blush appeared on Jennifer's fair cheeks. She smiled at Rhys. "Clint came over to apologize earlier, didn't he? He's just a dumb bull. Don't pay him too much mind."
Rhys understood. No wonder Clint had come over to apologize as soon as he walked in. It was because of Jennifer. He couldn't help but be curious about this girl, who could make the brutish Clint so obedient.
"You must be wondering why Clint listens to me, aren't you?" Jennifer's captivating blue eyes seemed to see right through him. She smiled slightly. "Because we grew up together."
"I see," Rhys said, not sure how to respond. After all, he had been the one who had humiliated Clint. It made sense now why Jennifer had stopped him that day to demand compensation; she was probably trying to get back at him for Clint's sake.
"Don't look at me like that. I know Clint is a bastard, but that doesn't mean I am too," Jennifer said, annoyed by the strange look Rhys was giving her.
"I didn't mean it like that," Rhys argued.
"Don't deny it," Jennifer said, shooting him a sharp glare.
Rhys held up both hands in surrender. When it came to a woman's stubbornness, he knew when to give up.
"Hey, Miss Jennifer, our Rhys is a real good boy," White said. "Don't be too hard on him."
"A good boy?" Jennifer's interest was suddenly piqued, and she looked at Rhys.
"Oh, White, wasn't that your nickname? Don't pin it on me," Rhys protested. He looked at Tipper. "Tipper, you agree this is a frame-up, right?"
"Not my problem," Tipper said, standing up. "Alright, I'm off to find something to do. Looks like I won't be heading back to the barracks with you tonight, good boy Rhys." Before Rhys could react, Tipper had scurried away, his eyes already fixed on a busty woman at the bar. He had clearly had his target lined up for a while.
Rhys gritted his teeth, helpless.
"Why should Tipper get all the fun? Am I less charming than him?" White chuckled and also stood up. He had a target, too. It seemed neither of them had been idle while Rhys and Jennifer were talking.
"Hey, you're just going to abandon your brother like that?" Rhys tried to stop them, but it was futile.
Jennifer blinked her beautiful eyes. "Are you scared, Mr. Rhys Parks?"
"Scared?" Rhys looked at her. "Why would I be scared?"
"Aren't you afraid to be alone with me?" she asked playfully. "Oh, I remember now. Last time, I said that if your five hundred dollars wasn't enough to cover the damages to my bar, I'd come looking for you."
"Wasn't five hundred dollars enough?" Rhys asked, a little embarrassed.
"Of course not. Not nearly enough. Don't you think?" As Jennifer spoke, she leaned her face closer to his, her breath carrying the sweet scent of brandy.
"I think…" Rhys was no virgin. Neither the previous owner of this body nor the new soul were strangers to the affairs of men and women. But this was America, where a man and a woman might end up in bed after a single, mutually agreeable meeting. Rhys was clearly tempted.
"I think… you're right, it's not enough. Do I need to compensate you further?" Rhys reached out a hand and gently caressed her beautiful, fair face, his eyes growing hazy.
***
Rhys didn't know why he was so full of energy; perhaps it was because it had been too long since he had been with a woman. He was passionate and fierce, thrusting powerfully against her pale body. The small wooden bed creaked and groaned in rhythm with their movements.
"Oh, God, God!" Jennifer gasped from beneath him, her long, white legs wrapped tightly around Rhys's strong waist. "I'm going to die! my God! Oh—"
This was Jennifer's room. Their clothes were strewn all over the floor, and the air was thick with a heady, decadent atmosphere and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.
The next morning, when Rhys opened his eyes, sunlight was already filtering through the plain curtains, casting a warm glow across the bed.