Rules

by Doe, Anna B.

  I expect a pang of jealousy or pain to assault me, but there is nothing. Just emptiness.

  Huh…

  I tap her profile picture and look through her stories, finding more photos of her, Derek and their families. Even from the screen, you can see they’re having fun, but when the stories end, I can’t help but notice one person missing. Is it because she doesn’t have her own social media accounts? I go back to Lia’s profile, but find photos of Brook and her together. So it isn’t that.

  Exiting the app, I look at my text messages. With all of my friends being on some or all social media, my inbox is empty except for one person. I open the message and look at it, unanswered.

  Merry Xmas, Firecracker.

  It’s simple, and I shouldn’t be surprised she hasn’t replied since she almost never does. Hell, I’m not sure if, in all the months I’ve known her, I’ve seen her with her phone in hand more than a couple of times, but still… The message is almost taunting me.

  Is it so hard to answer one damn message? Besides, where is she? I thought she and Lia were connected at the hip. You’d expect them to spend the holidays together, except…

  Nibbling at my lip, I look at the screen, but the words are a blur in front of my eyes.

  Giving up on all pretenses, I hit call. The phone rings and rings, and just when I’m about to end it, it connects, her raspy voice filling in the speaker.

  “H-hello?”

  “Brook?” I ask, surprise evident in my tone. I sit straight up in my bed, the blanket falling to my lap as I run my fingers through my hair in an attempt to control the mess on my head.

  What the fuck, man? It’s not like she can see you.

  “M-Max?” she breathes, my name coming out as a surprised stutter.

  I guess I’m not the only one who’s surprised by this call. Yes, I did want to talk to her, but I never expected her to actually answer the phone. Not with her shitty habit of avoiding my messages. But hell, maybe that’s it. Maybe she’s only avoiding my messages.

  Just the thought of it stings, but I push it away. I was never Brook’s favorite person; why the hell should I be surprised by this?

  “Yeah, hey.”

  “Umm… hi.”

  The silence stretches between us, and I can feel my hands going clammy with nerves.

  Great, dude. What now?

  It’s so long that I pull the phone from my ear to make sure the connection didn’t break, although rationally I know it didn’t. I can still hear her soft breathing on the other end of the line.

  “So… ugh… Merry Christmas.”

  Bravo, Mr. Obvious. Can you be any lamer than you already are?

  Her soft laughter comes from the other side, placating my rapidly beating heart. It’s sexy. Low and raspy, and as it slowly dies down, I wish I could hear it a bit longer.

  “Merry Christmas, Max.”

  Smiling, I lean against the headboard. “How was your day?”

  “Oh… same old.” I can hear her move, sheets rumpling. She must also be in bed. “What about you? Are you visiting your family?”

  “Actually, Grandma came to visit us, so we’re in Greyford. But it’s been fun. We don’t get to see her as often as we did when we lived in California. I know Jeanette misses her.”

  “That must be nice,” she whispers softly, and I can hear the longing in her voice. I remember Lia’s photos, my heart aching for her even before I ask the question.

  “You have any family over? Or did you maybe spend time with the Campbells?”

  Brook laughs, but there is nothing funny about it. “It’s just me.”

  “But what about…”

  Sighing, she cuts me off, her icy tone leaving no room for discussion. “Sanders, can we please not? I think we already established how different our lives are. There is no need to rub it in my face.”

  “I wasn’t…”

  “You know what?” She doesn’t let me finish. I curse under my breath, already feeling her pulling away, and that’s exactly what she does. “I have to go. I have a double shift tomorrow. Thank you for calling. Happy holidays.”

  “Brook…” But even before I manage to call out properly, the line goes dead. I pull the phone away, looking at her name plastered on my screen. There is a sinking, heavy feeling in my gut. This was the last thing I wanted, but per usual, I somehow managed to mess it up. “Happy holidays,” I whisper, although I know she won’t hear it.

  Cursing loudly, I throw my phone on the bed and run my fingers through my hair again, pulling at the ends in frustration.

  Knowing that after this I won’t be able to get back to sleep, I push away the comforter and get out of bed. The floor is cold underneath my naked feet, but I welcome it. Rubbing at my chest, I walk toward the window. Our backyard is covered in darkness, the white snow glowing under the dim moonlight.

  I watch it fall down, my thoughts still on Brook. Why didn’t she spend the holidays with Lia? I couldn’t imagine her not extending an invite. Not like she needed it, because by the looks of it, those few odd times I was at the Campbells’ house, Brook was treated like their daughter. So what was her deal?

  I’m not even sure why I’m obsessing over it so much, except that it bugs me. Nobody should spend the holidays alone. And I only made it worse by being a dick and shoving my nose where it doesn’t belong.

  Sighing, I remember her parting words. Tomorrow. I’ll go and apologize tomorrow. With as much as I screw up around her, I should already be used to it, not that it makes much difference.

  Content with my resolution, I start to turn around when headlights catch my attention. I watch carefully as they slowly near until the car finally comes to a stop in front of the house.

  A silver SUV.

  I watch, silently waiting to see who’ll get out of it. Whoever’s sitting inside waits for a while longer, until they finally turn off the car altogether. The door opens, and I watch Jeanette climb out. She stops, her head tilted back as she looks at the sky. She’s not wearing her jacket, so I know she must be freezing, but still she doesn’t make an attempt to go inside.

  Finally, her head falls down, arms curling around herself, as she slowly walks inside.

  I listen to her footsteps as she climbs the stairs and the creak of the door when she’s finally in her room.

  I don’t have to ask where she was, because I have a nagging feeling I already know. What worries me is something much worse.

  Is she spiraling again?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  BROOK

  “Here you go,” I say, putting three whiskey shots on the table. “Need anything else?”

  One of the guys from the group looks at me, his drunk, glassy eyes roaming my body, lingering on my exposed cleavage. Not that I had a choice when it came to my uniform. The boss likes his waitresses to be “sexy,” if you consider sexy ultra-short shorts and a size-too-small shirt. But hey, it’s all in the eyes of the beholder.

  Licking his lips, the guy slurs, “Only if you’re on the menu, baby.”

  My hand clenches by my side, teeth gritted tightly as his friends burst into laughter. I was used to all kinds of sleazy guys coming here, and trust me when I say, I’ve seen it all. Skanky eyes undressing me as I pass by, wandering hands that oh-so-accidentally brush against my ass while they try to shame me with their nasty comments. No, this wasn’t anything new, but tonight I was on the verge of snapping. Thanks to last night’s conversation with Max, I slept like shit, turning in my bed with restless thoughts running through my head.

  At least you were sleeping in your bed, not like the night before…

  I want to erase that night from my memory, but there is no way I ever could. Not even after spending it in some hole-in-the-wall diner that’s open twenty-four-seven with nothing else but my thoughts keeping me company. Thoughts that were rolling on repeat as I tried to figure out if what Josephine said was true or if it was some kind of stunt she’s pulling to get what she wants.

  Don’t think about
it. It doesn’t matter anyway.

  He doesn’t want you...

  Shaking my head, I push my wandering thoughts back and concentrate on the group in front of me. I’m sure my boss wouldn’t find it amusing if I punched one of them, but there was only so much I could take, and these frat boys were testing my limits. When they got here an hour ago, they were already buzzed; now they are completely drunk. And we’re not even talking about the tipsy, fun kind of drunk here.

  “If I was, I'd be something nasty, so you could choke on it while you're at it,” I mutter as I turn around to leave, but obviously not quiet enough.

  “Ooooo…”

  “Burn, dude.”

  “She just crushed your balls, man.”

  His friends taunt him, snickering behind my back. I roll my eyes at their childish behavior. You’d think they’d be more mature since they’re in college by the looks of it, but no such luck.

  “Crushed? Oh please, she’s just a little white trash girl.”

  Even though I know better, I turn around, looking at him through my narrowed eyes. The dude is an even bigger asshole than the regulars who come to this place. With them, I at least know what I’m getting. This dude, on the other hand, seems too reckless for my liking.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” he coos at me. “If you beg nicely, I might reconsider the offer.”

  The eyes that a moment ago seemed drunk and unfocused now look at me with some kind of gleam that makes my skin crawl. No matter what kind of front he put on for his friends, my comment, my rejection, pissed him off. I guess daddy’s golden boy wasn’t used to girls putting him in his place.

  “Well, baby,” I drawl in a sultry voice, just to get on his nerves. “If you don’t shut up soon, I’ll think you’re the one begging for my attention.”

  My words hit their mark, turning dark eyes into slits as he glares at me while his friends laugh loudly. I hold his stare for a heartbeat longer, my lips tilted in a mocking half-smile, and then I turn around and walk away.

  “Bitch,” he hisses after me, but I don’t look back. I don’t want to show him I’ve heard him. It’d be like admitting that I care, which I don’t.

  “What the hell was that about?”

  The question comes from Megan, my co-worker. She’s a twenty-something gothic chick who moved here around a year ago. We usually work the late shift together; she tends the bar while I waitress. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, far from it, but I’m closer to her than most of my class. Her dark eyes, surrounded by even darker make-up, assess me before her gaze switches to the direction I came from.

  “Just a presumptuous asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.” I wave it off, not even giving him a glance over my shoulder.

  Dark eyes meet mine over the bar. Megan puffs her cheeks, blowing her pink bangs out of her eyes. “Ain’t they all?”

  * * *

  “You sure you don’t want me to stay and help you close up?” I look at Megan as she cleans the counter after washing the last of the glasses I picked up from the tables, but she shoos me away.

  “Off you go. I have this under control.” She winks playfully. “I’ll crank some music and be done in no time.”

  “Great.” I grab my backpack, not even bothering to change out of my uniform. I’m that tired and ready to crash. “I’ll see you later.”

  I regret my decision almost instantly when I get out the back door. It’s so cold my whole body shivers when the night air touches my skin, goosebumps rising on my flesh.

  Pulling the zipper on my jacket, I hope the extra layer will keep me warm enough until I get back home. Not that it’s much warmer there. Even when Josephine pays the electric bill so we can actually heat the place, the insulation in our building is shit.

  The dark alley smells of garbage, humidity and piss, but that’s nothing new. Almost the whole neighborhood smells like that. Poverty and desperation. It’s so etched in the air that I barely notice it anymore.

  Sighing, I tug the strap of my backpack higher on my shoulder, the weight of it carving into me. Pulling the hood over my head, I start walking home, head bowed down to ward off the cold, only I don’t get far.

  Hands push against my chest, shoving me back into the darkness.

  “What the…” Startled, I look around, but the alley is dark. About a month ago, one lone light bulb died and Joe still hasn’t gotten around to fixing it. I nagged him about it time and again, but the dude is one lazy ass.

  My eyes scan the darkness searching for the person who pushed me, panic slowly rising inside me and making my breath labored.

  I can hear footsteps somewhere, but before I can pinpoint where they come from, another pair of hands wrap around me, this time from behind. A palm covers my mouth roughly, stifling my surprised yelp as my body crashes into the hard chest, kicking the air out of my lungs.

  Panic like I haven’t felt in years assaults me like a tsunami.

  This can’t be happening.

  Cold sweat covers my trembling, icy skin. I try to inhale, but the hand covering my mouth is pressed so hard against my lips, the little air I breathe gets stuck in my throat, making me choke.

  “Cat got your tongue?” the male voice chuckles into my ear.

  I swallow hard as his whiskey-stained breath touches my cheek. His words are husky, almost playful, but there is nothing playful in his touch, in the deadly warning hidden behind his words.

  “Not so harsh on the words now, are you, baby?”

  My whole body trembles. If I weren’t sure before, that one word he spits out lets me know exactly who I’m dealing with: the drunk college guys from the bar.

  Is it only one, or are they all here? Ready to avenge their buddy’s bruised ego.

  They left shortly after the debacle, barely leaving enough cash to cover the tab. Not even in my wildest dreams did I think they’d stick around, waiting to retaliate.

  The hand that’s around my middle moves up over my chest. Dragging the zipper of my jacket down, he slips his hand underneath, cupping my breast and giving it a hard squeeze.

  My whole body flinches as pain shoots through my limbs from his manhandling, but my hiss is muffled by his other hand.

  I think I’m going to be sick. My stomach rolls from his unwelcome touch, bile rising in my throat, but I don’t dare close my eyes because if I do, memories will come and make this whole thing ten times worse.

  “No snarky comments, huh?” He pulls my head to the side, exposing my neck. “What do you think, guys? Does she still look tough, or does she just look like the little white bitch that she is?”

  They’re all here, I realize. Not just the guy I pissed off. They’re all here, and they have me cornered in a dark alley. All because of one stupid comment.

  My body seems to be shocked still as all the possibilities that go through my mind in a span of seconds make me go dizzy. Tears gather in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Squeezing my eyes shut, I push them back.

  I won’t let them see me cry.

  I won’t let them break me.

  I didn’t cry before, and I sure as hell won’t cry now.

  Memories I was dreading start to come back.

  The darkness.

  “Dude, she ain’t half bad. Look at those tits.”

  His hands on my body.

  “Right?” The guy behind me chuckles, his hand harshly pulling down the material of my shirt, exposing my plain black bra.

  Hot, labored pants touching my skin.

  The guy in front of me comes closer, his body brushing against mine, sandwiching me between the two of them.

  Both of them are so close I can feel a mix of sweat and cheap alcohol surrounding them, making my stomach protest in revulsion. My legs are so wobbly, I’m surprised they haven’t already given out on me.

  The guy in front of me reaches his hand forward, rough, sticky fingers tracing my skin.

  “What a little doll,” he whispers, taking a step forward and pressing his body hard against mine. Deni
m brushes against my bare legs, and I’m sure I can feel his bulge pressing into my lower stomach as his fingers go down, down, down…

  It’s like his touch snapped me out of whatever spell I’ve been under.

  “Numph…” My muffled protest makes the guys laugh. I try to get out of his touch, my whole body wiggling with the effort like a fish on the ground, but his hands only tighten around me as their laughter grows louder.

  I’m not going down like this.

  I won’t be a victim.

  Not again.

  “Look at that,” the guy behind me chuckles in my ear. “White trash firecracker is back. This will be way more…”

  My elbow connects with his gut, making him lose his breath. His slimy hand slips from my mouth, his grip around my middle loosening just enough. With adrenaline and fear buzzing in my veins, I put all my strength into stomping on his foot.

  “You bitch!” he roars, doubling over.

  But I don’t get far because hands wrap around my wrists, making me stumble on my feet. “You’re not going anywhere, slut!”

  “Let me go!” I struggle against the guy, but his grip is steely and I know it’ll leave bruises. Ask me if I care. “I’m going to scream, you fucking asshole. Let me go!”

  His hands pull me against his chest, lifting me off the ground. I kick, frustrated because no matter where or how hard I try, I keep missing.

  Almost maniacal laughter fills the dark alley, making the blood freeze in my veins.

  “Keep doing that, baby. I love it when they resist.”

  “Hold her still, Marcus,” the first guy growls. “I’m going to show this bitch who’s boss.”

  Even though I can’t see his face, I can feel his anger as his shadow looms over me. My heart starts beating wildly in my chest, my mouth going completely dry.

  “I’m going to kill you!” I cry out, my legs still kicking thin air. “I’m going to kill you, you son of…”

  As a hand wraps around my leg, my other foot manages to find the goal, meeting with soft flesh, but he just keeps on laughing. Another hand holds my other leg, leaving me wide open, and the douchebag in front of me takes the opportunity. His fingers slide over my skin, going up, up, up until they meet with the crotch of my shorts.