Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Kyle

There was playing games, and then there was dodgeball. I grinned as I waved everyone over, the kids already hyped. Imogen looked considerably less so, but that would change.

"OK, we need to go through the rules again to make sure we're all on the same page," I said. "What do we not do?"

"Throw a ball at someone's head," one of the kids said. "If you do, you're out."

"And where do you go if you're out?" I asked.

"Against the wall or picking up dead balls. You can't go back on the field," the group answered, their responses well practised.

"That's right. If me or Miss Imogen say you're out, you need to go instantly. If someone else reckons you're out, you need to tell us, and we'll make a ruling and…"

"Your word is law," the kids said.

"That's right." I blew into my whistle. "What does that mean?"

"Stop on the spot," one kid said.

"Don't throw any more balls."

That was Scott, his expression a little rueful, because he'd been ruled out for doing just that.

"Alright, let's play nice so everyone has some fun. Green team, we'll have a little team meeting." I shot Imogen a look full of theatrical menace. "We need to crush the reds, so we're going to talk strategy."

"Crush the reds!" my kids chanted, and I left a somewhat bemused Imogen to deal with an equally martial group of kids. She recovered quickly, making clear she had her eyes on me with a gesture of her fingers. That was OK, as long as I had her attention. That was what mattered.

It was tempting to think about it, this morning, last night, yesterday. My mind was still trying to grasp it. Imogen was my mate, I'd adapted to that, but… She said yes. I glanced at her with a triumphant look backwards, knowing now that no matter how this game went, I'd won. Every day I spent around her was some kind of victory.

But I didn't mind complementing that with a win on the gym floor.

"OK, huddle up, huddle up," I told the kids, and they clustered closer with conspiratorial giggles. "We need to wipe the floor with the reds."

"Crush them!" one of the girls said, pounding her fists on her chest. I'd have to have them running laps after this to burn through some energy, but this was why I did this. Not to inspire blood thirsty rage in children, but… to give them a chance to play, have fun, be kids and provide them a safe space for just that.

"So, we can't actually crush them, remember?"

The kids all nodded dutifully, remembering the rules of play, because the first time I'd taken a bunch of children for a game, it hadn't gone well. I'd underestimated the sense of justice in some kids. Kept stuffed down by their home environment it'd come roaring back in the gym and several kids got into a dust up over it. Elodie was forced to have a long talk with me about how to manage the situation.

"It isn't about removing all risk," she'd said when I admitted defeat and wanted to cancel the whole thing. "These are kids that are hurting, but they still are children. What they need is what was lacking when their dads were around. Calm, predictable, but also expert adult supervision. One that anticipates the problems that will absolutely crop up and has a response prepared for them." She shot me meaningful look. "That's your job."

"This is about having a good time and working together," I told the kids now. "So we need to play fair and not hurt anyone. Alright, what's our strategy?"

The older kids moved in then, providing advice and discussing the various strengths of our team members. One of the little kids was like a weasel, not able to throw especially hard, but no ball would ever land on her. An older kid would shadow them as the smaller one grabbed the ball, then toss it to the thrower who would try and get someone else on the other team out.

This is why we played the game. It was simple, raucous, and allowed the kids a chance to run around and howl like animals if only for a little while. It was the collaborative play that was the best part of the whole game, though. They learned quickly that by playing as a member of a team, they could succeed, and that was the most important thing.

"Red team, are you ready?" I asked, and Imogen shot me a determined nod. "Miss Imogen and I are going to put the balls out and then we can get started."

The kids started to shout, but I only heard her voice when she joined me by the pile of balls.

"What do we get if my team wins this?" she asked me with a sly smile.

"Satisfaction," I replied. "Bragging rights. You, of course," I tugged her closer, "get anything you want, but you don't have to win the game to get that." I liked the flush in her cheeks so much I was always thinking of new ways to inspire that. "And if I win?"

"I'll do something you'll really like."

Her teasing tone, her lingering look made me suddenly uncomfortable. I was in a gym full of kids, so thinking naughty thoughts was totally not appropriate, but they came anyway. I had a lifetime of fantasies stuck in my head and had just been waiting for the chance to act them out, though now was not the time. I tucked them back inside my head and then walked across the court. Red balls were lined up on one side of the centre line, green ones on the other.

"Everyone ready?" I asked, watching the kids form lines on either side. My team fell into a loose pattern based on our plan, so I turned to Imogen and raised an eyebrow. She nodded and then we stepped free of the playing field, and I blew the whistle that unleashed hell.

Kids came streaming onto the court in a great mass and my whistle was back at my lips when I saw a few from the same team squabbling over balls. For a moment, I thought I was going to have to intervene. Games either went awesomely or the same patterns of behaviour cropped up. Fears that they would never get their chance to play if they didn't push others out of the way, that there was only enough fun to be had and you had to snatch yours or get none. But the other kids shouted out instructions and advice, counselling some of the potential malcontents out of their mindset and got them playing.

"Jenny is out!" I shouted as a green ball hit someone from the other side.

"Um…this person is out?" Imogen said, pointing to one of my boys.

"Peter, you're out!" I jerked a thumb at the sidelines and while he looked pissed initially, he brightened up when I clapped him on the shoulder. "Good job, mate."

From then my focus narrowed down, trying to follow every pass of the ball, every attempt to recover them. Kids names were called out each time they were out, leaving a skittish handful.

"C'mon, green!" some of my team who were already out cried from the sidelines, and that got the others up and doing the same. Their own misery about getting out was set aside as they became part of something more.

Little Ava was sliding across the floor to avoid the trajectory of a red ball and one of the older kids dove forward, deciding to risk a catch. He held the ball up triumphantly when he succeeded, his face flush with victory. The red team member that threw the ball turned and marched off the field to join the rest, but it was close. We were down to three team members each when Imogen came to stand beside me.

"This is insane," she said with a wild grin.

"Better than geeks playing with swords?" I asked.

"Different," was all she would say, her eyes on the children. "But they love it, all of them. They're having a ball…"

Her voice trailed away as a member of her team lobbed the ball high, like a volleyball serve and then it came spiking down. Ava was right in its path, darting to one side, then the other to get away from it, but she ended up lunging to the wrong side. The ball was going to hit her, and her mouth opened in a silent wail, right as one of the older boys leapt forward. He scooped her up and dropped her to the side, as the ball slammed into his chest.

"George is out!"

I didn't want to say the words, but I had to. Any diversion from the rules created a seething web of jealousy and resentment, though if I had any concerns, I lost them as George jogged to the sidelines. One look from him made clear he'd sacrificed himself for the girl. I nodded back, the boy a teenager now, so too old for physical displays of affection, but a man's regard? Yeah, he soaked that up. It was something I saw over and over, something we worked hard to grow, a protectiveness in the older boys in the group.

Because they knew exactly what would happen if they didn't.

Each one had seen what damage a man could do if he chose to use his strength against those he cared about rather than to help them, and what we worked hard to present was another way. One where we men helped, supported, and protected the women and girls in our care, not hurt them. George held my gaze for some moments, then went and joined the other older boys, the lot of them conferring on the game, and I felt a warm flush of pride.

"And so are you," Imogen added belatedly. "This is more than just having fun. This is a lesson."

"The two things aren't mutually exclusive, no matter what Asher will tell you. Kids learn best through fun."

I stared at the court, dismissing another couple of children who got out, leaving only two remaining. Ava and one of the bigger boys from the red team, which had me stiffening.

Both stood as close to the centre line as they dared, but Ava's fingers sank into the ball. She shifted restlessly, but I wondered at what she saw.

"C'mon, Ava!" my team cried from the sidelines, trying to encourage her, but I saw the shake in her arms when she raised the ball.

She was bracing herself to get hit, and that's what had me marching forward. I hated to intervene in the game, but this… I couldn't just stand by and watch her get taken down, but the other boy, Harry, did something I never would've expected, making my heart clench in my chest. Rather than use his superior strength and reach, he held his arms wide. The red team shouted out theatrical boos, but there was no real animosity. We really had created a safe space, I realised, right as Ava lobbed the ball at Harry's chest. He stepped into the throw, catching it square in the chest.

"Green wins…" Imogen said under her breath, but she rallied quickly. "Green wins!"

All the kids came rushing onto the court, sweeping up Ava and carrying her around on their shoulders. Her smile was everything, more surprise than anything. Her eyes were wide, not from fear, but that she couldn't believe that'd just happened. I made Harry my focus, though. I cut through the kids and found myself offering him my hand.

"Good job, mate."

My voice was all raspy, a big lump of emotion threatening to choke me there and then. All the while, he grinned.

"It's just a game, right?" he said, shaking my hand firmly.

"Just a game," I agreed, pulling him into one of those rough hugs we men excel at.

Sometime later, the kids were all gone to the next activity. When we were picking up the last of the balls, Imogen turned to me.

"You're trying to break the cycle with this place, right?" She dropped a ball into the bag. "That's what everything here is about. Not just providing a safe space for women and children, but?—"

"A place for men to learn to be strong without hurting others." I nodded slowly. "Most days it feels like a drop in the ocean, but… the more time I spend around young men, the more I learn." I carried the ball bags over to the storeroom. "Boys are actually more likely to cry when they're really young than girls. Men are just as innately emotional as women, though perhaps in a different way. The trouble is they're given so few legitimate means to express it.

"Anger is about the only one. Exterminate your enemies, crush them so you don't have to feel anything other than triumphant, but we know how that works out."

I knew that Elodie had some concerns about Imogen. In her heart of hearts, I'm pretty sure she thought we were rushing into things, and some of the ladies of the bear community thought the same, but… Part of me felt like Imogen had been walking away from her ex months, if not years, before she met us.

"With them submitting to other men's shit all day. Their bosses, their customers, their managers, but where does all that anger and frustration go? On the people he loves. He treats the bond between him and his family, not as something precious, but as a liability he can exploit to let go of some of the rage he's experienced all day. I don't want that for any woman," I said, my eyes boring into hers.

"I don't want that for any of the girls or boys living here, but most of all." I stepped closer then and her hands gripped mine just as tightly as I held hers. "I don't want that for you and any children we may or may not decide to have."

I watched Imogen then, saw my words take root, and something small and hopeful began to grow. She shot me a little smile that then widened.

"I want that too."

"So… we could get some practise in before we decide to have cubs?" I offered her my arm, but she just pushed it away.

"Maybe later," she replied, softening her rejection. "I've got three mates, not one, and I've hung out with you and Lucas. Now's the time for me to find Asher."

"See if you can pry him away from his computer."

"Because he's hard at work running this place?" she asked as we walked towards the door.

"Because he's hunting Phil Jackson."