Trinity High: High School Bully Romance

by Savannah Rose

  I could go to the police with this, sure. But he’d play the angry father role. His reputation is spotless with the authorities. After all the interviews and investigations, we simply do not have enough to break him. Nothing to positively put him in Baltimore, besides blurry CCTV shots.

  “You know the NYPD has the ability to magnify these images further,” Sheldon says. “We have to try. Come on, kid, you can’t let the son of a bitch get away with all this!”

  Why am I so quick to give up? If Kira’s father killed Joe Fowler, he belongs in jail, not in the streets. There’s also the problem that he’s still Kira’s father. Sure, he might have overreacted a bit when he found out I was in her room. But lots of fathers would break down doors if they suspected their daughters were up to no good. And the fact that it’s the enemy she was sneaking around with doesn’t make it any better. If I do manage to bring his ass to jail, will she hate me? Will she be happy that justice has been served, even if that justice took away the only family she has left? What will it mean for her relationship with Janelle?

  Would I cover up murder for my own father? I’m not sure.

  My thoughts are too much to deal with right now. I try to reel myself together and focus on the facts. Malone is a slippery bastard. He was able to cover his tracks so well that we can’t even prove he was on the highway, for Pete’s sake! Not definitively, anyway, and not without additional help from the police, who are already reluctant to so much as consider reopening the case, especially after it was ruled a suicide.

  “The cops don’t want to go after Malone unless we give them hard evidence. He has a good standing with the state authorities. He donates to their charities on a regular basis. They can’t bite the hand that feeds them,” I say, letting a sigh roll out of my chest.

  “State lines,” Sheldon mutters, staring at the printed photographs. “State lines, Elias!”

  He claps his hands as if the Yankees just won the championship. He’s laughing. I, on the other hand, I’m merely gawking at him, trying to figure out what he’s so excited about.

  “There’s one more place my PI hasn’t checked, and I can’t believe we missed it!” he says. “Malone would’ve crossed state lines into Maryland. There must’ve been police checkpoints with motion-activated cameras of their own. It’s a habit of state troopers, especially on the eastern border, since they’re trying to clamp down on drug trafficking.”

  “Okay… how does that help us?” I ask.

  “Maryland state troopers are not New York state troopers,” Sheldon replies, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “My PI can make some inquiries. He’s got more juice over there, anyway. Maybe, just maybe, he can get us a clearer shot from the I-95. We already have time stamps on multiple possible vehicles matching Malone’s.”

  It’s a stretch, but I’ll take it. The more I think about this, the more I look at these blurry pictures, the more convinced I am that he’s an evil man.

  “Do it,” I tell Sheldon. “Whatever it takes. We need hard evidence.”

  He exhales sharply and pours himself a scotch. A couple of minutes pass in heavy silence, while I try to figure out what I’m going to do next. Restlessness keeps my mind scattered all over the place.

  “How’s Kira?” Sheldon asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You haven’t talked to her?”

  “Not since the incident. She’s not taking any of my calls,” I say, running a hand through my hair. No matter how I look at this whole situation, it still looks bad. It’s going to end even worse.

  “Imagining the worst about her father right now, what are the odds she’s still clean right now?”

  Oh, God. The thought didn’t cross my mind. I’ve been so busy stressing over every other aspect of this clusterfuck, that I completely overlooked the most imminent danger. Malone was raging mad when I skipped. And Kira was on her own, defenseless against that bastard. Words can cut deeper than any blade. Kira may be strong, but she’s nowhere near ready to stand up to him.

  “Also, how did Malone know you were there?” Sheldon adds, frowning slightly.

  The truth is quick to rear its ugly head and smack me over the head. “It might have been Janelle,” I say. “She saw us the other day… I think Kira was texting her before we got… you know.”

  Sheldon shakes his head. “You’ve got to make this right, kid. If you care about her, you can’t just run because Malone wants you to run. If you want her, fight for her. Malone’s not going to give his daughter over that easy. And if we do take him down, who will she have if you just turn your back on her?”

  I jump out of my chair, slipping the phone into my pocket. Malone’s message is still there, quietly irking me. “You’re right,” I say. “You’re absolutely right.”

  “Where are you going?” he calls out after me.

  “Janelle.” I reply, hoping he heard me as I practically fly through the hallway.

  Everything goes by in a flash, and I’m suddenly in my car, turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life, and I drive out with squealing tires. The city lights flicker past me. I remember where Joe Fowler used to live. His wife is still there, and so is Janelle. Sheldon’s words echo in the back of my head.

  Yes. I need to make this right. But first, I have to get to the truth.

  The apartment building is a tall and silent giant between a string of shops and a small marketplace. It’s not the place you’d expect someone with the kind of money Janelle’s family has to live. But the Fowlers have always been more down to earth than the Malones and the Dresslers.

  I take my phone out and dial Janelle’s number. There’s no one around. It’s so quiet at this hour, that I can hear myself thinking, and this is one of the times when I shouldn’t be left alone with my thoughts.

  The streetlamp hums above my head. Janelle picks up after the third try. “You need to come down, right now,” I tell her and hang up. Janelle and I don’t know each other that well, but she’s aware of how quickly I can turn into someone’s worst nightmare. She’s also aware that if she doesn’t come down, I will go up there myself and cause a scene to remember.

  I’m hoping she’ll appreciate the courtesy.

  I try calling Kira again. No answer. This is the thirtieth missed call in her log, and I’m not any closer to calming myself down.

  Five minutes later, Janelle comes out in a house robe and fluffy slippers. Her hair’s a mess. I got her out of bed, but it doesn’t matter. She’s here, now.

  “What the hell, Elias?”

  “You told Malone about Kira and me,” I say, and she freezes. The worst part is that she doesn’t seem to know what I’m talking about.

  “What? No. I told you, and I told her as well. I would never—”

  “Don’t lie, Janelle. You’re the only person who knew I was at her house last night.” I am fishing here, but it’s the best way to get the truth out of her. I didn’t actually see who Kira was texting when she found me in her room.

  “She told me, but… Elias, it’s insane, I would never tell Mr. Malone. I swear!”

  She seems honest, but maybe she’s just a really good actress. Then again, what reason would she have to screw Kira over? With her out of the way, Janelle would have a better shot at someday taking over Fowler & Malone. Of all the people in this world, Janelle is one of the few who’d see only gains from my relationship with Kira.

  “How did he know, then?” I ask. “It was like fucking clockwork, Janelle. He didn’t knock, didn’t try to pretend he didn’t know what was going on. He kicked the fucking door down. He knew I was in there.”

  “Oh, God, that’s what happened?” Janelle gasps. “How’s Kira?”

  “I can’t reach her. Her phone keeps ringing,” I mutter.

  Janelle pulls out her phone, to try and call Kira, I presume. And that’s when I see it: the Fowler & Malone logo on the back. That wouldn’t make sense, right? There’s no way he would?

  “Janelle, are you using a company phone?” I as
k the question anyway, despite how fucking sure I am that I’m hanging on to the wrong branch here.

  She blinks several times and hands me her smartphone. “Yeah. I’ve basically abandoned my other phone.”

  Her voice fades as she watches me fiddle through apps and settings. It doesn’t take long to find the cloning app that was secretly installed. It logs every text and call made to and from this number. Suddenly, Malone seems more like a psychopath than ever before. A scheming, controlling prick whom I definitely think is capable of murder.

  “Elias…”

  “He’s been spying on you,” I say bluntly. “The app was hidden in a settings folder, almost impossible to find unless you knew what you were looking for. Which you obviously didn’t.”

  I do feel a sliver of peace right now, understanding that it’s not Janelle’s fault. At least Kira still has a true friend in this world. I ran off and left her with that bastard. I should’ve stood my ground. Guilt threatens to suffocate me, as I try to find my next few steps.

  “Isn’t that illegal?!” Janelle asks, growing increasingly agitated. “Jesus…”

  “It is, yes. Mind if I keep this?” I reply.

  She nods vehemently, and I give her a faded smile.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you, Janelle. You’re a good person. And so was your dad…”

  “Thank you,” she murmurs. I turn to leave, but she stops me. “Elias. Can you do something for me, please?”

  “Considering what just happened here… yeah, go ahead.”

  “You know about Kira’s problem, right? The Oxy…” She waits for me to reply, but all I can do is nod. “Her father has a way of tearing down her defenses. I’m worried about her, especially after what you told me about this morning. You should go check on her.”

  “She’s not answering her phone, and that Doberman of a father of hers is likely around.”

  “When did that ever stop you?” She raises an eyebrow at me, and I’m humbled.

  Janelle gives me too much credit, but I have to rise to her standards. I owe Kira this much. Heading back to my car, I wave her goodbye. “You’re right, Janelle.”

  It’s time I act like the man I promised Kira I would be. She needs me, now more than ever. I’m worse than Malone if I let her go through this alone.

  28

  Elias

  I’ve already got William Malone on cell phone fraud. It’s a shoddy case, but it’s enough to put some fear in him. It’s enough for me to stand up to him.

  Pulling up into the driveway, I take a moment to carefully analyze the windows to Kira’s house. The sky above is pitch black. Clouds are gathering. A storm is coming. Leaving Janelle’s phone in the glove compartment, I get out of my car and walk toward the main door. All the lights are off, except for a dim candle somewhere on the upper floor.

  The porch lights come on automatically as soon as I reach the top of the stairs.

  It’s almost two in the morning, but I can’t wait any longer. I’ve waited enough. If I don’t confront William now, I doubt I ever will. Dammit, I should’ve held my ground… I shouldn’t have let him chase me away like a delinquent.

  William has caused enough pain around him, already. And I don’t know why the fuck the need is so strong to save his daughter from him, to offer her something better than the hatred her father feeds her, but I feel like I need to. Maybe it’s just my own guilt, knowing that for a very long time, I added to her pain.

  I ring the doorbell. Once. Twice. No answer. I ring it again. Then I bang on the door.

  “Come out, you coward!” I shout. I keep my finger pressed on the doorbell button until the interior lights come on. I pull back and listen to the shuffling, rushed steps.

  The door swings open. It’s Margaret, Kira’s nanny and the Malones’ maid. “What in the world is the matter here?!” she asks, understandably outraged.

  But I can’t let my anger and determination dissipate. I need both for William.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, I really am. But I need to speak with William.” I tell her.

  Margaret stares at me, eyes wide with befuddlement. “Elias…”

  “Please. Get him down here. Now.”

  “Elias, Mr. Malone isn’t home. And I don’t know where he went,” Margaret replies.

  “Where’s Kira?” I ask. I’m sure my voice is tight with panic.

  She takes a deep breath. “I just got here not too long ago,” she says. “Haven’t heard a peep from her. If she’s here, I’m assuming she’s in her room. But I was told by the guards not to let you in if you show up. What’s going on, Elias?”

  “I’m sorry,” I reply and storm past her.

  “Elias, no! If Mr. Malone catches you here, he’ll—”

  “I really don’t care anymore,” I say, rushing up the stairs. My heart is pounding, anguish gripping me by the throat. Longing simmers through my blood. I need to see her, now more than ever.

  “Elias, please!” Margaret calls out after me, but I’m not listening anymore.

  The door to Kira’s room is slightly ajar, the lock still broken and the wood splintered from William’s kick. I get angrier just remembering that moment. What a degenerate piece of trash…

  I hear Margaret gasp behind me. It must be the first she’s seeing what’s become of Kira’s room.

  I push the door open, but there’s no sign of Kira anywhere. Only a mess of clothes and shoes and tissues. I don’t see the pill bottle anywhere either, and my worst fears resurface, blaring like boat sirens in the bay. Oh, God…

  “Where is she?” Margaret asks, having caught up with me.

  “I don’t know. Where else could she be?”

  “I… Let’s check the other rooms,” she replies, proceeding to open every door along the corridor, from the east to the west side of the house. I follow her closely, my pulse racing.

  With every empty room and bathroom, my fear swells. There is something deeply wrong here. Something I might’ve been able to prevent, had I only stood my ground with William.

  We reach the ground floor. The lounge area is empty. The kitchen and bathroom, as well. Margaret is nervous, breathing heavily as concern darkens her eyes. She’s been like a mother to Kira, and I can only imagine what’s going through her head right now.

  “Did you see her at all today?” I ask.

  “No,” she answers, her voice shaky. “Tell me what’s happening, Elias.”

  “William Malone is happening,” I reply.

  Margaret stops, her hands shaking. She tears up, struggling to keep her composure. “What has he done, Elias?” I can see the guilt in her eyes, burning so hot that it might just torch her.

  I put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing as reassuringly as I can manage. “You can’t blame yourself for any of this. I think Kira’s done the best she could with what she was given. Unfortunately, we don’t get to choose the kind of family we’re born into. Otherwise, I would’ve had a say in my own upbringing…”

  She doesn’t say anything to that. She knows that my dad was no saint in this war between the Dressler’s and Malones, but she’s also not going to speak ill of the dead. I appreciate that.

  Who knows how my father would have reacted to today’s events? When he was alive, he never had a reason to believe Kira and I were anything but enemies.

  “Where is she?” I sigh, looking around.

  Margaret’s expression shifts, and she rushes out into the lounge room again. This time, however, she takes a sharp turn to the right, down a narrow corridor. I see a carved wooden door at the end. She opens it and sucks in a breath. “Kira…”

  I fly past her, but come to a sudden halt. The image before me is all wrong. Not what I wanted to see. Not something I would ever want to see. And yet… it’s real. Blue and black circle her eyes. Her cheekbone is swollen. Blood has dried on the corners of her lips all the way down to her chin.

  There’s a bottle of Oxy spilled all over the floor beside her. I’m not sure what the bigger perpetrator is here. Oxy sur
e has nothing to do with the bruises and the cuts. But Malone would never…

  I shake my head. Anger and fear and sadness grip me like nothing else.

  “Kira!” Margaret screams and falls to her knees, crying and trembling, no longer able to control herself. “Elias, please… Help her…”

  I run and slide along the floor, reaching Kira in the blink of an eye. She’s cold and pale. The rottenest of déjà vus hits me.

  Kira’s not breathing. Her pulse is barely there. I check her vitals, over and over. Maybe I’m imagining all this.

  “Call 911,” I tell Margaret. “NOW!!!”

  I hold Kira close. She’s limp… almost lifeless. I have never been so scared in my life.

  Margaret moves around us, reaching William’s desk. There’s a phone there.

  “Come on, Kira,” I whisper, my eyes stinging. “Come on, baby. Stay with me, please… Please, Kira. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere ever again, I promise. I’m sorry. Just… just stay with me.”

  I’m not sure if she can hear me, but I pray she can. I pray that my voice somehow keeps her anchored to this world, because if I lose her…

  29

  Elias

  The waiting room of a hospital is like a nightmare come true. The eggshell paint is glossy, capturing the neon reflexes that further amplify my anxiety. I pace around, my muscles tight with broiling anger. My fists are clenched, as I count my steps in a bid to keep myself awake and with enough composure to get through this.

  Somewhere down the hall, doctors are attending to Kira. This isn’t her first time here, but I’m terrified that it’ll be her last—and I don’t mean that in a good way.

  Margaret and Janelle sit in a couple of chairs. There are a few other people here, each worried for their loved ones, waiting to be allowed to go see them. I heard a couple of car crashes being mentioned, but my mind is unable to linger on anything for too long. All I can think of is Kira.

  Hours have gone by. The sun might be rising outside, I’m not sure. I’ve lost track of time.