Respect

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by Jay Crownover


  I opened the door and walked in on a live-action porno.

  The apartment smelled like cigarettes, cheap perfume, sweat, and something musky and unknown. I blinked in the low lighting, wishing the room were pitch black so I didn’t have to witness all my hopes and dreams dying a horrific death.

  Booker in all his big, tattooed glory was sitting on his leather couch. That wasn’t anything I hadn’t walked in on before. But the naked girl on his lap was a new addition, and so was the half-naked girl standing behind him, hands pulling his head back as she shoved her tongue down his throat. The girl in his lap had her hands splayed over his broad chest, and she was bouncing up and down like he was a ride at an amusement park. I hated to admit it, but it took me a full minute of staring in slack-jawed surprise to realize she was actually moving up and down on Booker’s dick. I blinked at the scene playing out in slow motion before me, feeling my lungs seize and my heart twist into a knot. Any other day this wouldn’t have mattered as much. But today, how could he be with these girls on the day we could finally be together?

  I must’ve made some kind of noise, because the next thing I knew, the girl fucking his face with her tongue stopped what she was doing and looked right at me. She was wearing way too much makeup, but that didn’t stop her from being stunning. My wounded mind—as well as my crushed heart—wondered if she was one of the girls from the strip club where Booker worked most nights. If she wasn’t, she should consider a career change. It didn’t take a savant to recognize she was all woman, not a girl on the brink of womanhood. The distinction never seemed to matter until this very moment.

  The woman looked me up and down, a practiced smile tilting her garishly painted mouth. “We got company, big guy.” Her voice was rough and raspy, like she smoked a thousand cigarettes a day.

  Booker turned his head, quicksilver eyes gleaming in the dim light. He grunted, hands digging into the hips of the woman still grinding on top of him. Her head was thrown back, face cast in the throes of ecstasy. It was a little much, or maybe it was my heart exploding inside my chest that was too much to bear.

  His scarred eyebrow lifted in silent question. The expression gave him kind of a devilish, wicked look. “Did you knock, Karsen?”

  That’s what he was worried about? He’d never worried about if I’d knocked before today. How about the fact that my heart was shattering and spilling out of my chest onto his hardwood floors? I blinked back tears and sucked in a painful breath.

  The pretty girl hovering behind him reached out and ran her long, red nails through the dark brush of Booker’s black hair. “Is she the one you told us about? She’s the little girl who lives upstairs who thinks she’s in love with you?”

  I couldn’t stop the gasp that burst forth. It was bad enough he had them here on what was supposed to be our special day. Okay, special to me, but still. Hearing he talked about me like that, called me a little girl and questioned my feelings, it burned through my blood like acid.

  Booker nodded, curling an arm around the woman on top of him to still her erotic movements. “That’s her.”

  The other woman’s smile lost some of its edge, softening around the sides. She cocked her head to the side and looked me over again. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I felt like I’d walked into the middle of a nightmare and couldn’t find my way out. The woman Booker was currently having sex with turned her attention to me as well. She looked impatient and annoyed by the interruption, readying herself to continue her ministrations.

  Booker turned back to her, telling the woman behind him, “If you like the innocent, girl-next-door-type, I guess she’s all right.”

  Ouch. Direct hit.

  I was both innocent and the girl next door . . . literally. There was no getting around it.

  “You like them a little dirty and a lot more experienced, don’t you, big boy?” The woman in his lap licked the side of his face and I cringed.

  Booker snorted. “I like easy.” He turned his attention back to the woman uncomfortably close to his crotch. “Nothing about her is easy.”

  I was stuck to the spot, trapped by all the jagged, sharp pieces of my broken fantasies. I wanted to bolt, to run as far away as I could, but I couldn’t move. I felt like the shards would rip me to shreds any direction I turned. Even when the naked woman continued making out with the man of my dreams right in front of me, I was stuck in the same spot. The noises they were making were loud and graphic and all-encompassing. I could hear them echoing in the empty places in my chest where my heart used to be.

  Finally, the other woman in the skintight leather skirt and black bra walked over to where I was locked in place. Her hand was light on my arm and she touched me like I was made of glass, even though I wanted to claw her eyes out.

  I blinked up at her numbly, letting her guide me around and tow me toward the open front door. “Don’t worry, sweetie. There are better guys out there for someone like you. Guys much nicer than the type of guy Booker is . . . he’s made for women like me. You are still too new, too pristine, honey, and all he’ll do is ruin you.”

  Everyone said that. I was sick to death of everyone telling me that. I didn’t want someone better for me, I wanted Booker.

  I finally gasped, pulling a burning breath into my starved lungs. “Today’s my birthday.” The words came out on a shuddering sob. I have no idea where that came from, why I’d share such an intimate detail with the woman who was next in line for Booker’s dick. I’d stop thinking rationally the second I heard the giggling through the door.

  She made a sympathetic noise and patted my arm. “Happy birthday, honey. You deserve something special.”

  “Roxy. Get back in here. We’re moving to the bedroom.” The other girl’s voice was excited, and I felt her words settle in my stomach like a lead weight.

  “I thought he was special.” The words were barely a whisper.

  The woman squeezed my arm and I was shocked when she leaned forward and touched her brightly painted lips to my cheek in a kiss that was more like a whisper. I should’ve pushed her away, called her a whore, smacked her across the face . . . something, anything. But all I could do was watch as her perfect, painted face blurred into a melted blob as tears obscured my vision.

  “The fact that you think that proves you’re the special one. Get out of here and go live the kind of life that doesn’t have guys like Booker and girls like me and Rowan in it.” She backed up gently and firmly shut the door in my tear-streaked face.

  I don’t know how long I stood outside the door crying and trying to pull myself together. It was long enough to hear laughing voices quiet and disappear as they made their way farther inside the apartment. Once the tears stopped, I used the hem of my t-shirt to wipe away my smeared eye makeup, rubbed away the traces of moisture on my cheeks, and marched back upstairs to Race’s apartment. I wasn’t even all the way through the door before I was telling Brysen I wanted to change colleges. I wanted to go out of state and get as far away from the Point—and from Booker—as possible.

  Today was supposed to change everything . . . and it did. But not in the way anyone expected. Not in the way I’d dreamed about for years.

  Right then and there I made the decision that once I left the Point, I had no plans to ever come back. The city simply wasn’t big enough for me and Noah Booker and all the pieces of the heart he broke on my birthday.

  The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.

  ~ Leo Tolstoy

  Karsen

  Boulder, Colorado ~ Two days after college graduation

  Today I am a college graduate and it is entirely underwhelming.

  Four years of hard work and dedication amounted to nothing more than a piece of paper. I’d changed majors twice, starting out in mathematics, thinking I could follow in my big sister’s footsteps and go into accounting. But I’d barely passed my first college-level algebra class, so that career track wasn’t going to
pan out. My sophomore year, I focused on collecting general-required credits while I tried to figure out what in the hell I wanted to be when I grew up. Two years later and I was still asking myself the same question. I eventually settled on a political science degree thinking I would go into the legal field. I wasn’t sure I was ready to commit to going to law school, even though Brysen was thrilled at the prospect. There was never a shortage for the need of good legal representation in our family. Having a lawyer in the fold would save everyone a lot of money down the road.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t find law fascinating, or that I didn't think I could hack it in law school. My trepidation came from being intimately acquainted with the fact that sometimes good people had to make bad choices. I didn’t see right and wrong in perfect shades of black and white. The place I grew up and the people I was surrounded with were all tinted in varying shades of gray, and I wasn’t sure how that would translate to a career defending laws that didn’t have enough flexibility as far as I was concerned.

  I sighed and skirted around one of the endless boxes that filled the apartment I’d shared with Aribella Voss for the last two years. The tiny brunette was a whirlwind of energy and as loud and boisterous as I was quiet and contemplative. She didn’t have any of the same reservations about where she was going as I did when it came to planning out our futures. She was planning to be a nurse practitioner, so there were a few more years of schooling ahead of her which she was eagerly anticipating. She was also moving in with her boyfriend and spending the summer playing house with him. Meaning, I still needed to figure out where I was going to go now that school was over and our lease was up. It didn’t take a first-year psych major to figure out why I hadn’t been more proactive in figuring out my living situation. Even after four years in Colorado, I knew exactly where I wanted to be. I just wasn't sure I was ready to go back. I had no idea if I was strong enough to be in the same city as he was once again.

  But as much as I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t going back, I had to. I literally didn’t have a choice in the matter. Brysen and Race were getting married in a few weeks and I was the maid of honor. I promised her I’d be there. It would be the first time I’d been back to the Point since leaving for school. I didn’t go home when one of my sister’s best friends, Reeve Black, had her baby. I didn’t go back when her other best friend, Dovie Pryce, got her degree in social services and used her boyfriend’s ill-gotten gains to open her own center for underprivileged kids. I refused to return, even though the place I called home was obviously getting turned around piece by piece. The streets were no longer a warzone and the people in charge were no longer exploiting the poor and helpless. It was something I wanted to see. It was a dream come true.

  But I couldn’t face the memories I left behind in the Point. Luckily, my family had always come to me, looking as out of place in scenic Colorado as I’m sure bubbly, bright Aribella—Ari, for short—would look in my city. It never stopped being funny how uncomfortable all the fresh air and clean living made Race and his best friend Bax whenever they came to town.

  “You sure you don’t need any help getting your stuff into storage? Dom said he could get Lando and his little brother to haul it over to the unit for you.” Ari watched me with kind, chocolate-colored eyes. She was the one part of my college experience I was going to miss more than anything. Well, that and her handsome older brother and his drop-dead sexy boyfriend coming to visit. They were an eyeful, both outrageously fit and tall, rocking some impeccable style. I was totally unashamed that I loved watching the easy way they were with each other. It was romantic but also really hot. In fact, we tended to end up with an apartment full of admiring voyeurs when the two of them were around. Especially in the summer when it was hot and they ran around shirtless and sweaty. Ari had been on Dom’s ass to propose to his boyfriend for months. The often serious and soft-spoken cop kept telling her he was waiting for the right time, but Ari was impatient. She was also bossy and relentless, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the dark-haired police officer caved sooner rather than later just to get her to back off. Not to mention the two men were crazy in love. It was clear to anyone who saw the two of them together, they were the real deal. I knew exactly what real love looked like, thanks to watching it fight and struggle to survive in the Point, and I recognized it in them.

  I shook my head and stuck a long piece of blonde hair behind my ear. “No. Race hired movers for me. He’s trying to give me time to figure out where I want to go.” He was always considerate like that. I couldn’t ask for a better almost brother-in-law. He took amazing care of my sister, made sure every need I had was met, and didn’t even balk when I told him my best friend was a cop’s little sister. He put on the charm and played the perfect preppy pretty boy whenever Dom was around. I had no idea whether Ari’s older brother bought the act, but if he didn’t, he pretended for my sake. Bax was a different story. When he came to visit . . . and check up on me . . . he stayed as far away from my apartment and any place Dom might show up. It was kind of funny. Big, bad Bax never ran from anything, but he refused to disrupt the simple, no-fuss life I’d built for myself in Colorado. He was the scariest, sweetest, big brother figure a girl could ask for.

  Ari giggled and tossed her dark hair over her shoulder in a much sassier move than mine. “We should have done that. Dom threw out his back during the second load and Lando bitched at him for over an hour for doing too much.” She rolled her expressive eyes and pressed her lips together in a mew of annoyance. “Troy should have been here to do most of the heavy lifting anyway. I’m still irritated he bailed at the last minute.”

  I bit my tongue so I didn’t blurt out that she couldn’t be surprised by her boyfriend’s lack of consideration. Troy was an asshole. Flaking on their plans, forgetting important dates and events. He also had a wandering eye and treated Ari like she should be thrilled he chose her to grace with his presence. I never liked him or the way he looked at me whenever he was over and Ari wasn’t in the room. He hadn’t even asked her to move in when it was do-or-die time on our lease. In her usual take-no-prisoners way, Ari informed him she was moving in whether he liked it or not. They’d been together for a little over a year, even though he’d been hanging around since we first got to campus four years ago. He actually asked me out first, back when I was sure I was never going to date anyone, ever. He’d acted shattered by my rejection, but pretty quickly turned to winning over my roommate. Ari was reluctant for a long time, but eventually he wore her down, only to walk over her as soon as she caved. I’d secretly hoped the entire time they were together she would see the light and dump him. No such luck.

  She picked up one of the last little boxes that had her stuff in it and walked over to wrap me in a one-armed hug. She squeezed me so hard I squeaked before hugging her back. She touched her forehead to mine and whispered, “We’re going to be okay, Karsen. Whatever happens, we’ll be fine. All you have to do is show up for the wedding. You don’t have to commit to anything beyond that.” I nodded and she pulled back so she could drop a kiss on my cheek. “He’s not going to be there. Brysen promised you wouldn’t have to see him, and you know Race will castrate him if he comes anywhere near you. You let him take your home away from you; don’t let him come between you and your family any more than he already has. You’ve given him enough.”

  She’d been telling me that since the night I’d slammed too much Fireball and spilled my guts about why I picked a school so far away from home. She knew all the sordid details and why I never quite fit in with all our classmates. College for me was a refuge, a hideaway more than a guide to figure out my future.

  I gave her a similar kiss on her upturned cheek and whispered, “As long as we are giving advice, you should know that if Troy is showing you who he is, believe him. Don’t try and turn him into something he’s not because you don’t think you have other options. You do.” She was beautiful, bright, vivacious, and had one of the kindest hearts I’d ever encountered. The world wa
s wide open and hers for the taking. She didn’t need to grab onto the first boy who made her feel special, especially if he was going out of his way to treat her as anything but. Booker never bothered to hide who he was; I simply refused to see it. They said love was blind for a reason.

  “You’ll call me and let me know every little detail.” It was an order, not a question. “And I want pictures of Brysen in her dress and you in yours.” Ari wanted to be my plus-one, but I’d spent three months talking her out of it. She didn't need to see the Point, didn’t need her optimistic view of the world forever altered. It would be so much easier to face going home with my best friend by my side, but I wanted her to remain my best friend, and the Point had the ability to demolish everything pure and good. I even enlisted Dom’s help to talk some sense into my hardheaded friend. She was stubborn to a fault but she listened to her big brother when he told her something wasn’t a good idea. I wished he had warned her about what a douche Troy was. I’d mentioned my concerns to him in passing, but Dom insisted Ari had to learn lessons of the heart on her own. All the Voss siblings were that way. They had to figure out the things that hurt on their own.

  I walked with her to her car, waving goodbye until she was out of sight. There was a pang in my chest that my carefully planned days were no longer scheduled and predictable. I had too much time on my hands to obsess and remember when my routine was out of whack. Sighing, I made my way back into the mostly empty apartment. The movers were coming bright and early in the morning to throw my stuff in storage until I came up with a plan. I was supposed to be on a plane back to the Point tomorrow afternoon and I hadn’t even packed yet. Every time I thought about going back home, I froze and had a mini panic attack. I wasn’t so sure I was tough enough to make it on the streets of the Point anymore. I hadn’t been strong enough to stay and fight for the place I’d always called home. I’d let him run me off like a scared little bunny, and I’d forged armor over the past four years to steel my heart from getting hurt again.

 

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