The Cleaner

Home > Other > The Cleaner > Page 3
The Cleaner Page 3

by Kiersten Modglin


  Looking ahead, she saw that this side of the building was indeed lined with several windows. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “You’ve honestly never done this before, have you?” He looked intrigued.

  “Of course not.” She sighed.

  “All right, look, you’re talking to a master. I know all the shortcuts. Where are you parked?”

  She winced. “I’m just walking home. My car isn’t here today,” She crossed her arms, not bothering to explain.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Why would I be?”

  “You think in a town as small as Dale no one is going to notice you walking through town in the middle of a school day?” He rubbed his head as if she were frustrating him. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but come with me.” He pulled his keys out of his pockets, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes.

  “What?”

  “Come with me. I’ll take you home.”

  “Why the hell would I come with you?”

  “Because we probably have about two minutes before someone catches us out here. And you probably only have ten minutes before that blood on your pants seeps through your sweater, which I’m guessing isn’t exactly a fashion statement. So, are you coming or not?”

  She shook her head, her face burning with embarrassment. “Why are you trying to help me?”

  “I guess I’m bored. Besides, I have a sister, princess.” He shrugged. “Just call it my good deed for the day.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, her body shaking, skin burning.

  He turned away from her, leading her to the back parking lot where his car sat. As she started to climb in the beat up, rusty car she looked at him, biting her lip. He reached in the backseat without a word, grabbing an old t-shirt and placing it in her seat. It was black, thankfully, and she sat down quickly feeling another gush.

  “Thank you, Gunner,” she said, as they pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Don’t mention it,” he told her. “Seriously, don’t. I don’t want people thinking I’m a nice guy, you know.”

  “Goodness no, can’t have that.” She rolled her eyes.

  They drove through town without a word, his windows down and radio up.

  “So how come you can drive through town without anyone noticing?” she asked finally as they pulled onto her street.

  “Well, one, I don’t look like I’m twelve—”

  “I don’t—"

  “And two, people don’t care what I do.”

  “Of course they do,” she assured him, though they both knew she was lying.

  “Well, here you go,” he said as he pulled up to her house, the nicest one on the street, his engine rumbling.

  “Okay, I’ll just be a sec. Wait here,” she said, opening her car door and sliding out.

  “Wait here?” he asked. “Why?”

  “Aren’t you going to take me back to school?”

  He shook his head. “Not a chance. My good deed is done, princess. You don’t cut school just to go back.”

  She groaned loudly, slamming his door. “Fine, I’ll get back on my own.” She rushed into the house, her legs squeezed together. As soon as she reached her room, she grabbed a pair of clean pants and panties and headed to the bathroom.

  When she was done and had cleaned herself up, she threw on a clean sweater, ran a brush through her frazzled hair, and headed back out the door. She was surprised to see his car still sitting there.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, locking the door behind her.

  He sighed, groaning. “I guess I’m a sucker for a princess in distress.”

  “Stop calling me that. I’m not a princess,” she said hatefully.

  “Could have fooled me.” He shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “Now get in before I change my mind.” She groaned, walking over to the passenger’s side, moving the t-shirt out of her seat, and climbing in beside him. “You sure you want to go back to school?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m not—” she stopped short, cutting off her own insult.

  “You’re not what?” he asked. “You’re not like me?”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” she said, though she was lying and they both knew it.

  “Yeah, we both know what you were going to say. You aren’t a truant troublemaker like me,” he said firmly, “you’re a princess, princess. So deal with that.”

  She bit her lip, unsure of what to say. When they pulled into the school parking lot, she spoke again. “I don’t think you’re a troublemaker, Gunner.”

  “I am,” he said simply.

  “Well, maybe you are. But what you did for me just now, it wasn’t something a troublemaker would do. If you let people see this side of you every once in a while—”

  “Yeah, yeah, princess, I know. If only I’d let people see the goodness in my heart.” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning wonder. “Then the world could be a better place and the sun would shine brighter and everyone would all live happily ever after.”

  “Why are you such a jerk?” she asked, a half smile on her face.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He winked, leaning toward her. She froze, waiting for his next move. His face grew closer to hers and her breathing quickened. She looked down at his lips, only inches from hers, when she suddenly heard a click. He leaned forward further, pushing her door the rest of the way open. “Now, get to class. The world just might end if you’re late.”

  * * *

  Reagan stumbled through the party, feeling lighter than air. She made her way past a table of drunk jocks, ignoring their calls. She took another drink from her red cup. Suddenly she felt a hand on her waist. He pressed up against her back, his mouth near her ear.

  “Hey, pretty lady,” he whispered softly.

  She spun around, jerking out of his grasp. “What do you want Isaac?”

  He leaned closer to her. “Y-O-U,” he said, his eyes drooping in a drunken stupor.

  She pushed him back. “In your dreams,” she said, scoffing. “You’re drunk.”

  He grabbed hold of her arm. “Does it turn you on?”

  “You being drunk?” She laughed.

  “Me.” He pulled her hand down, forcing her to feel the semi-hardness in his pants.

  She squeezed, crushing him between her fingers. He let out a yelp. “You bitch,” he screamed, hands between his legs.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Remember that next time you think you can control this bitch.” She turned, storming off to find Emily.

  She walked down a long hallway, her eyes scanning the rooms in search of her friend. When she finally saw her, perched up on the bathroom counter, legs wrapped around Mark Aarons, she gasped.

  “Em?” she called.

  Her friend snapped to attention, her face growing red. “What’s up Rae?”

  “I’m ready to go home,” she said, her body growing hot.

  “I’m a little busy,” she said, holding her hand out to point at the boy in front of her as if Reagan couldn’t see him. “Is everything all right?”

  She took a deep breath, feeling a tear she hadn’t been expecting fill her eyelid. “Yeah, fine. It’s nothing.” She turned around, rushing from the bathroom before her friend could see her cry. She rubbed her eye, brushing the tear away quickly. No way was she going to be caught crying at a party like some vulnerable little kid. She walked back to the living room where she locked eyes with Alex Donovan, his eyes narrowing at the sight of her. He was Isaac’s best friend and she was sure his coming toward her couldn’t be good news.

  She turned around, trying to disappear into the crowd but it was too late. “Reagan!” he called, clutching her arm. At six foot two, he towered over her.

  She glanced up at him over her shoulder before facing his direction. “Yeah?”

  “Can I get you another drink?” he asked.

  “Um, no thanks.” Confusion filled her. He took the cup from her hands anyway, walking to the counter and grabbin
g the bottle of Jim Beam. “I’m drinking beer, Alex,” she told him. She couldn’t stand anything else.

  He handed her the cup. “Beer’s for pussies,” he told her. “Drink the hard stuff, it’ll put hair on your chest.”

  She took a drink, ignoring the burn and the horrible taste that filled her mouth. It was better to appease him than argue. Unlike Isaac, Mark could be dangerous. Smiling, she tapped the outside of the cup with her finger. “Well, see you around.”

  “Not so fast,” he said, grabbing her arm again and sloshing the drink down her dress.

  “Look what you did,” she snapped, desperately searching for something to clean herself up with.

  “Guess you’ll have to take it off,” he said, an evil grin filling his face.

  “Screw you.” She walked past him to the kitchen and grabbed a towel, wiping off her legs. She smelled like a brewery. He followed her, so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “Can I help you with something, Alex?”

  “Actually, now that you mention it…I could think of a few things.”

  “Is that a joke?” she asked.

  He put a hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Come on, let's get you something to change into.”

  “I’m okay. I’m just going to go,” she said, feeling uneasy. The room had begun to spin.

  “You aren’t going anywhere, Rae. You’re coming with me.” Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms, heading down the hall.

  “Put me down,” she begged, without any power. The contents of her stomach were churning, angrily lapping at her throat. “I’m going to be sick,” she said softly, not wanting to open her mouth.

  He pushed open a door, leading her into a dark bedroom. She saw a window on the wall, a bit of light seeping in from the streetlight outside. He was behind her suddenly, grabbing hold of her zipper.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, though she couldn’t move.

  “Just hold still,” he whispered, his words dripping with disdain.

  “Alex, please don’t,” she pleaded, her body beginning to tremble. His lips were on her skin, his hands pulling her dress down over her hips. She went rigid as he pressed his body onto hers, his arms around her waist. “Alex,” she said again. “I don’t want this.”

  Suddenly, she heard someone moving on the other side of the room, a belt buckle jingling. “Who’s there?” she asked, cool tears filling her eyes.

  The light to the room flicked on and the blurry image in front of her took shape.

  “Gunner?” She heaved a sigh of relief at seeing a familiar face. He stood in front of her, his face twisted in anger. He was shirtless, buttoning and adjusting his pants. Beside him, stood a girl she vaguely knew from school, Dana Hively—her long black hair dancing carelessly over her bare breasts. She grabbed a shirt off the bed upon seeing them and attempted to cover herself. “What are you doing, baby?” she asked him, kissing his cheek and trying to pull him back to the bed.

  “Get out of here,” he told the girl, who disappeared out the door in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, a frustrated look on her face.

  Behind her, Alex had frozen, though she still stood exposed to them both. Snapping into action, she pulled her dress back up, her eyes continuing to fill with silent tears. Gunner approached her, his eyes locked with Alex’s. “Go, Reagan,” he told her.

  Reagan nodded, taking a step forward. Alex grabbed hold of her arm. “I don’t think so. This isn’t your concern. We’re just having some fun.”

  Like lightning, Gunner reached across, ripping Alex’s hand off Reagan. “The fun is over,” he said firmly.

  “What’s your problem, man?”

  “My problem is you. What would mommy and daddy think if they just happened to hear their precious baby boy is forcing himself onto drunk girls at parties?”

  “You’re full of shit,”Alex said, looking Gunner square in the eye.

  “Try me,” Gunner dared him, taking a step closer. His shoulder brushed Reagan’s as he neared her attacker.

  “Whatever dude,” Alex said angrily, taking a step back. “It ain’t worth it for some drunk slut. You can have her.” He laughed casually, though his voice still radiated anger and sauntered in between them, nearly shoving Reagan down. She took a half step to keep herself from falling.

  “See you around, Reagan,” he purred her name, giving her one last look before he disappeared out the door.

  Gunner was at her side in an instant, scooping her up in his arms with ease. He walked her across the room, sitting her down on the bed and brushing her hair back off her shoulders.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, though she wasn’t sure how true that was.

  “He won’t bother you again,” he said firmly. And somehow, she believed him.

  “He’s just a dumb guy, Gunner,” she said softly. “Showing off ‘cause I turned his friend down. Getting even.” Her voice was bitter as she remembered his hands on her, his rough touch.

  “Don’t justify what he did,” he said defensively. “Don’t you dare.”

  She laid back on the bed, her entire world spinning. He laid down beside her cautiously, their heads side by side. He turned to look at her.

  “I’m fine now,” she said, staring straight ahead. “You can go back to your date.”

  “She wasn’t my date.”

  “No? It certainly looked like it.”

  “Trust me, she wasn’t a date. Dana Hively doesn’t date.”

  “Oh, but Gunner James does?” she asked, looking at him then. Their faces were only a few inches apart, noses practically touching.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Someone who has heard the rumors.” She spoke without reservation thanks to the alcohol in her stomach.

  “And what rumors would that be?” he asked, his eyes dancing between hers.

  “Oh, please Gunner. You don’t date. You are too cool for that. Or, at least, you think you are.”

  “Says who?”

  “People.”

  “People don’t know me,” he said adamantly, lifting himself up and propping his head into his palm.

  “Some people know you.”

  “Like who?” he asked. “You?”

  She shook her head, her lips pressed together. “I know of you, Gunner. I don’t know you.”

  “You don’t want to know me, princess.”

  She covered her face, groaning. “Oh, here we go again.”

  “I saved your ass tonight. I reserve the right to call you princess.” He half-laughed.

  Her face grew serious as she stared at him. “Yeah,” she said finally. “Yeah, you did. You saved me tonight. Just like you saved me before.”

  “Yeah, so remember that next time you want to give me lip,” he said, brushing his finger over her bottom lip so it made a popping noise when it bounced back to the top.

  “Why are you always saving me, Gunner James?” she asked, not laughing at his joke.

  He shrugged his shoulders, breaking eye contact. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve just been in the right place at the right time.”

  “No,” she said, sitting up so that she was level with him. The room was suddenly eerily still. She placed a hand on his cheek for a second but moved it away. “No matter how you try to justify it, you’ve saved me. Cleaned up the messes I managed to get myself into.”

  “It’s not a big—”

  “Thank you,” she said firmly.

  He stopped talking, his jaw tight, eyes avoiding hers. “You’re welcome,” he said, obviously feeling the tension in the room.

  She laid back down, waiting until he did the same before she spoke again. “Do you go around saving all the princesses?” she asked, elbowing him playfully.

  “Nah, just my favorites.” She spied the smile that grew on his face, though he was staring at the ceiling.

  “You’re my favorite knight,” she said, smiling back.

  “I’m more like a villain.” His gaze fell to her.

  �
��Villains don’t save princesses,” she said. “Haven’t you ever read a fairytale?”

  He laughed. “Not lately.”

  She rolled over to face him, her body pressing into his side. “Well, knights save princesses, for your information.”

  “I’ll remember that for when I’m on Jeopardy.”

  “Or princes,” she said. “Remember that too.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it picked up speed. “Will you remember me?” she asked, her voice vulnerable.

  “Huh?”

  “When you’re off with whatever girl you hook up with at the next party…will you remember me? Remember this? You could be this guy if you wanted, Gunner. You could be a prince.”

  He sat up, holding her shoulders firmly. “We should get you home,” he said.

  “What? Why?” she asked, her face growing warm with embarrassment. She’d let the liquor start talking too much.

  “Because it's late and I’m heading home and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you here alone.”

  “See,” she said, as he grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her out of the room. “You’re always saving me.”

  He ignored her comment, pulling her through the crowds of people. She ignored everyone around, her eyes locked only on him. She should have found Emily, let her know she was leaving, but rational thought had all gone out the window.

  He led her to his car, starting it up without a word. He pointed to the glove box. “There’s some eye drops in there. If your parents will still be awake, you’ll want to use them so your eyes aren’t so red. Get some gum too, so the liquor smell won’t be so strong. You can roll down your window to help you sober up a bit, if you want,” he instructed her.

  “What about my clothes? I reek. He spilled a drink on me.”

  “I’m not exactly your size,” he said, “so I can’t help you there.”

  “Gunner James is out of options?” she teased, grabbing a bottle of cologne out of his floorboard and spraying it onto her.

 

‹ Prev