Too Late, You Don't Get My Love Anymore

1.

My sister pulled a prank and tricked me into showing up at a live paintball combat match.

By the time I wanted to leave, it was already too late.

My fianc and my brother crouched by the entrance, coaxing me:

During the match, your brother and I will keep you covered the whole time. Just stay close to us.

"We've been looking forward to this match for so long. If we're one person short, we'll have to drop out."

I didn't want to let them down, so I gave in.

The match began, but one problem after another cropped up with the gear.

Five players, and in the end they could only put together four full sets.

Without a second thought, the two of them handed the set to my sister:

"You've got us protecting you anyway, the paintballs won't touch you."

But the moment the match started, all it took was one cry from my sister, and the two of them dropped me and ran.

Their bolting left me standing there as a live target.

A paintball slammed into my head, and the pain hit so hard I nearly blacked out.

Three rounds landed on me one after another. The two of them heard me, and all they said was:

"Wait right there, we'll come protect you in a bit."

A voice in me said that once the match ended, they wouldn't remember me at all.

Just like so many times before.

Extra tutoring, when they picked up my sister and forgot to pick me up.

Birthdays, when they had presents ready for my sister and nothing for me.

Even the car crash three years ago, when they saved my sister and left me forgotten inside the car.

If a passing stranger hadn't pulled me out, I'd have burned to death.

Either way I'd be forgotten, so what difference did waiting or not waiting make?

I wasn't going to wait anymore.

With no special suit to protect me, both my legs, hit by the paintballs, swelled up fast.

I dragged myself along and quickly found cover to hide behind.

The instant I got into position, the spot where I'd just been erupted with a burst of teeth-grating gunfire.

Job Roman's voice came through the radio earpiece, a little frantic: "Marjorie Matthews, are you okay? That place they were just firing at, wasn't that where you were?"

"Stay right there, don't move, I'm coming to find you."

I was about to answer when Sophie Matthews let out a whimper and grabbed hold of Job:

"Job, ow, my ankle hurts."

"I don't know if I just twisted it. Can you carry me?"

Job's steps faltered. He wavered for a moment, then spoke to me through the earpiece after all:

"Sophie seems to have twisted her ankle. She's always had a weak ankle, she can't move around like this, I have to carry her."

"You find a good spot and stay hidden. We'll take your sister and knock all those people out, then come get you."

I'd already guessed he would leave me behind, but hearing it again still hurt.

"Don't trouble yourself."

I scanned for cover a bit farther off, picked up a rock from the ground, and hurled it hard in the opposite direction.

It drew the enemy players' attention. The gunfire started up again, and I gritted my teeth and shifted fast to new cover.

Job froze for a second, then his voice turned cold.

"We're just coming to get you a little later, it's not like we're not coming at all."

"Your sister's in poor health, so we're looking after her a bit more. Is that wrong?"

And me, was I wrong?

I wanted to ask, but I hurt too much.

I made myself as small as I could behind the cover, the sound of paintballs bursting drifting near and then far.

It wore away at my heart.

Out of nowhere I caught the sound of leaves being stepped on, but it vanished just as fast.

So quick it felt like I'd imagined it.

I'd just lifted my head, meaning to move to a different piece of cover, when a gun barrel pressed against my skull.

"There's a little rabbit hiding here too."

I threw my arms around my head in terror and begged in a shaking voice:

"You, shoot my arm, my legs are already swollen from being hit."

"The head bruises too easily, shoot my arm, I can take it in the arm."

2.

For a long moment the pain never came.

The man didn't leave either.

Carefully, I lifted my head, straight into his eyes. First surprise crossed them, then something like anger.

"You came in here to play without any protective gear on?"

"Do you have a death wish? This is paintball, sure, but enough rounds to the body and someone gets hurt."

"What is this club even doing?"

Before I could react, he pulled me up and planted me firmly behind him.

"Stay with me. When the match is over, I'll get the club to answer for this."

His strong hand had yanked me up by the arm, and yet it hadn't hurt at all.

His words sounded fierce, but there wasn't a trace of ill will in them toward me. It was the most instinctive kind of concern.

My nose prickled. I nodded and followed behind him, head low.

When he fired, I ducked behind cover.

When he ran, I ran too.

Trying my best not to slow him down.

He kept me safe the whole way. Not one more round hit me, and we walked out of the match as the winners.

I trailed behind him in small steps. On the other side, Job Roman, Sebastian Matthews, and the rest came out too, their match lost.

Their faces were sour.

The moment Sophie Matthews saw me, she cried out.

"Sis, why are you with another team? Don't tell me you were the one who leaked our position."

Sebastian and Job went dark in an instant and rounded on me.

"Marjorie Matthews, this is a competition. Do you have any idea how long we spent getting ready for it?"

"And now you've ruined the whole thing."

But I barely even understood the rules. How could I have leaked anyone's position?

"It wasn't me."

Job seemed to have already made up his mind. He stepped up, grabbed my sleeve, and started dragging me back.

The pull threw me off balance, and my leg was swollen and throbbing. I dropped straight to my knees on the ground.

The man behind me had seen enough. He reached out and knocked Job's hand away.

"The match is monitored in real time. How exactly would she cheat?"

"If you think it's unfair, go check the footage. I've got business with the organizers anyway."

The staff had felt the mood turning from across the room and hurried over to smooth things down.

The moment they heard cheating, and faulty equipment on top of it, on a match that came with a prize, they froze.

If there was any foul play behind it, would they ever be able to run this competition again?

"We'll check. We'll check right now."

"And Mr. Henson, what's the problem with our equipment?"

Harry Henson helped me up and pointed at how empty I was, no gear at all. "Didn't you say the equipment was standardized? If it's standardized, why is there a full set missing?"

"Four of them ran off fully kitted out and left her standing there, someone whose hits can't even be logged. Were you trying to use her as a live target?"

The staffer looked more lost than ever. "But our equipment is all standard issue. We have each competing team send one player to collect it in advance."

"And after they collect it, we check it for any problems. Everything's signed for."

Sophie's eyes flickered. She limped up in front of me to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, Sis. I was the one who picked up the equipment. Maybe I lost a set by accident."

"Boo-hoo, Sis, please don't blame me, okay? I didn't mean to."

"If I'd known, I never would've worn that set. I'd have given it to you."

She cried until she could barely catch her breath, when she was the one who'd done wrong.

Somehow she made it look like I was the one wronging her.

My brother and Job started glaring at me again.

I looked away.

"Didn't you say you were going to check the footage? Then go ahead and check it."

3.

The club pulled up the footage fast, the segments tied to their team, the ones that mattered.

Sophie took them, then casually plucked out a few pieces of gear and tossed them on the ground.

Job and Sebastian exchanged a look.

Sophie's face went whiter and whiter, her nails digging little crescent marks into her palms.

"So you threw it away on purpose."

"You knew Job and my brother would put one of the sets on you no matter what."

Both men moved, stepping in front of Sophie.

"Marjorie, stop it. Nothing happened to you anyway."

"Sophie didn't mean it you're her older sister, can't you let it go? Besides, we already said we'd keep you safe."

The footage kept rolling.

The two of them heard the shots and ran straight for Sophie.

I took a paintball to the leg and curled up behind the cover, in pain.

Their faces went pale too. Job rushed forward, reaching for my knee.

"You got hit, does it hurt? Let me help you up."

I limped away from him, crossing to Harry's other side.

Job started to come after me, and Sophie let out another yelp, clutching her ankle.

"Job, I still can't really walk. Could you carry me on your back?"

"My brother's kind of clumsy."

Job hesitated. He looked at his empty hands, and some corner inside him seemed to empty out a little too.

He looked at me, his face settling back to normal for once.

"Once the match is over, I'll apologize to you properly."

"Don't wander off. I'll drive, I'll come get you in a bit."

I didn't answer. The girl from the couples' team on Harry's side came over to help me.

Before she went, she shot Job a look and asked me, dead serious,

"This thing isn't your boyfriend, is it?"

"Girl, you'd be better off dating a barbecue pork sandwich than a spineless piece of work like that."

"What kind of nonsense is that, leaving his own girlfriend to take fire? Lucky it wasn't a real gun. If it were, he'd be apologizing to you down in the afterlife."

I kept nodding, the very picture of a good student.

The girl's eyes curved into a smile and she reached over to ruffle my hair. "You're so sweet. If I ever get married, I hope I have a little girl just like you."

She wanted to keep ruffling, but the host over there had already started calling names.

Each team back to its own. I still went back to Job's team.

Just standing at the very end.

First place went up on stage for the prize money.

The other teams each had to send one person up to take a penalty.

Someone drew eating wasabi, someone drew dancing, someone drew a mystery-box food.

Job lowered his voice, a note of guilt in it.

"Don't worry. Whatever penalty we draw this time, we'll take it. It won't touch you again."

For Job's team, Sophie drew. She opened the slip and went a little pale.

"One female player takes the penalty: drink a glass of blended whiskey."

She looked to Sebastian like she needed rescuing, her voice thickening toward tears.

"Sebastian, I can't drink. You know that, my stomach's always been bad."

"If I drink something blended like that and something goes wrong, then what?"

Sebastian turned to me.

"Marjorie, how about you do it."

"It's just one glass. I know Sophie's stomach is bad too. She's been on medicine to fix it, she can't just quit halfway."

I looked at Job, calm, wanting to see whether this man couldn't keep even one promise.

Job went numb under the look, but he forced the words out anyway.

"Marjorie, Sophie is your sister."

I tilted my head and smiled, mocking myself.

"You remember her bad stomach, but you all forgot I have an acute alcohol allergy!"

His face drained bit by bit and he shook his head quickly.

"No, no, I remember you're allergic to alcohol. I just didn't think of it for a second."

"Nobody drink. Let me go find the organizers."

In the end, because of the special circumstances, the organizers agreed to switch who took the penalty.

Job took the glass and drank it down in one go, wiped his mouth, and gave me an ingratiating little smile.

"I said I wouldn't let you take the penalty, so I won't."

He used to smile like that too, back when he'd made me angry.

Like a puppy, obedient and harmless.

I like harmless things, so I'd go soft, raise my anger high and set it down light.

This time, I set it down for good.

"Let's go home."

Marjorie thanked Harry Henson and his team.

I got into Job Roman's car, and the second my hand touched the passenger door, it was nudged lightly aside.

Sophie Matthews slid in as though the seat were hers by right, leaning out to smile at me.

"Sis, I'm just used to riding shotgun with Job. That's where I keep my favorite car diffuser."

"If it bothers you, take Sebastian's car, or sit in the back."

Job had been watching my face the whole time.

He stepped in with the right amount of protest. "Sophie, the front seat's for the girlfriend. Don't act up. Next time"

He didn't finish before the rear door opened.

I got in.

"The back is fine for me."

"She's the younger one. I should give way to her."

Job froze for a moment, and in his eyes there was shock, panic, and confusion all at once.

A phone rang inside the car. Sophie answered, listened to a few words, and her face suddenly darkened.

"I won't do it."

"Why should I marry some man I've never even met?"

"You're all playing favorites. I'm not the only daughter in this family."

The car reached home, and Sebastian was the first one over to soothe her.

"It's fine, there'll be a way, I promise I won't let you marry anyone you don't want."

Sebastian marched off to find their mother.

"Mom, what century is this? Nobody does arranged child marriages anymore."

"My sister's never even met the guy. Why should she be the one to marry him?"

Mrs. Matthews looked a little grieved.

"The Hensons saved this whole family once. Now the old man's failing, and they want us to honor the marriage promise so he can see his grandson wed."

"We took their kindness. We can't turn around and stab them in the back."

Sebastian remembered that part too. He frowned, thought it over, then over again, and finally looked at me.

"There are two girls in this family. If someone has to marry in, we can't just point at one of them."

"I say we draw lots. Whoever draws it, goes."

Sebastian pulled Job off to prepare the slips, and once they reached the study, Job shook him off hard.

Job was getting angry. "Are you out of your mind? Marjorie's my girlfriend. She's not marrying anyone."

"We're going to be talking about our own wedding soon."

Sebastian lowered his voice.

"You really have the heart to let Sophie be the one married off?"

"Marjorie's not stupid. She's in love with you. You think she'll just sit there and wait to be handed over if she draws it?"

"She'll run, obviously. So you register with Sophie first. That way, when the other one bolts, Sophie's already got a marriage license with you, and Mom and Dad won't have a choice."

I'd only gone up to change clothes and put some pain cream on my leg.

That was when I heard them.

Job was still wavering. "If I register with Sophie, Marjorie's going to be upset."

Hearing him give a little, Sebastian pressed harder.

"You'd only be husband and wife on paper. It's not like you'd actually be together."

"Once it's over and Mom and Dad have cooled off, you just divorce Sophie."

Job decided it was the safer play. "All right, let's do it that way."

I left without a sound.

I'd been wanting to leave for a long time anyway. This only made the accounts easier to settle.

The drawing began.

I picked a slip at random, and sure enough, there were the two words on it: get married.

I handed the slip to Mr. and Mrs. Matthews.

"Let this substitute marriage settle what I owe you for raising me all these years."

"After this, we're square. Completely."

I didn't look at their faces. I went straight to my room and saw no one.

The substitute marriage to bring the ailing patriarch good fortune was arranged in a rush.

Lots drawn today, gone tomorrow.

Early the next morning, Sophie was knocking at my door, as if she couldn't wait, hurrying me out.

"A married-off daughter is like water thrown out the door. Get lost, and the sooner the better."

Without her brother or Job around, she couldn't wait to show her true face.

I felt nothing at all as I looked at her, my voice flat.

"Who ends up getting lost in the end, we'll see about that."

Mr. and Mrs. Matthews looked grim, opening their mouths several times without speaking. They took the file envelope from my hand and watched me leave.

When they opened it and made out the few lines written inside, both of them looked as if they'd aged ten years.