Misconduct (FSCU Pitbulls Book 1)

by Stella Marie Alden

  “Ah, yeah. She went off with Ed-the-Bed.” She shrugs. “No accounting for taste.”

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Could anything else go wrong tonight? “Do you know his room number?”

  She skews her face and rolls her eyes. “You are joking, right?”

  I know Kira and there is no way she would step out with an asshole like Ed. The guy is arrogant, obnoxious, and… Shit. I could be describing myself last semester. Maybe she goes for guys like that. What do I really know about her?

  A niggling sensation shoots down the center of my back, the way it does as I’m about to get sacked.

  “Thanks, Janice.”

  “Janet.” She glowers but I got no time for apologies. I need to find Kira, make sure everything is okay.

  I ask around until I find a guy from Ed’s dorm. He wasn’t too forthcoming until I put a fist to his face. Thinking of all the bad things that could happen to her, I rush across campus, wave at the desk, and take the stairs three at a time.

  I pound my fist on room three-oh-nine. “Open up.”

  There’s some scuffling, Ed cracks the door, then sticks out his snout. “Got the wrong room, dude.”

  I push with all my weight and Ed falls onto his ass. Inside, my fucking heart stops. Kira’s on the bed, her halter top untied. She sits up, breasts bare, and doesn’t even bother to cover them. At first, I’m so disgusted, I turn to leave until I recall when she fell in the pool. She was so embarrassed she’d clutched her chest under the water, afraid I’d get a good view.

  Something is way off. Quickly, I rush over and tie her halter top behind her neck while she stares at the wall, zombie-like.

  Fist clenched, I turn to Ed. “What the fuck did you give her?”

  His eyes go wide. “Nothing, I swear it.”

  I kneel in front of her and notice the black centers of her eyes are so small, they’re almost undetectable.

  “Kira, honey, can you hear me?”

  “Yes.” Her tone is dry and her face blank.

  “Did you take something? Some drug?”.

  “No.”

  “She’s lying.” Ed steps behind me, sniveling. “Ask her if she came willingly. I swear, I thought she wanted a good time.”

  “Don’t say another word or I will fucking kill you, understand? Call 911.”

  I shove my cell at him then lift her off the bed. “Put your arms around me, honey.”

  She does what I ask but her movements are strange, almost robotic.

  “We’re coming sir, don’t hang up.” The woman’s voice sounds from the dresser, where Ed sets down my phone.

  Sweat pours off his brow. “Listen, I asked this girl if she wanted to come back to my room. She said sure. Nothing happened. I didn’t know she was your girl.”

  What a fucktard. I give him the look I usually reserve for the defensive line. Basically, it says, stay out of my way, you can’t stop me. If this little weasel didn’t drug her, he sure as hell had to know she isn’t in any kind of shape to consent to sex.

  “Hey, I was trying to save her. Better me than someone who would hurt her.”

  I move Kira out of his room and kick the door shut so hard, I crack it. If one more word comes out of his mouth, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. By the time I get her downstairs, the campus rent-a-cops are waiting while sirens sound in the distance.

  “Can you stand, Kira?” I set her on her feet and she nods vacantly.

  I mostly ignore the questions of the campus police and wait for the real cops. When blue bubble lights flash over the face of Ed’s dorm, I walk her to the curb.

  An officer about my father’s age jumps out of a squad car and approaches me. “What did she take?”

  Behind us, gawkers gather as another, younger cop climbs out of the passenger side of the cruiser.

  Kira grips my hand. “I didn’t steal anythinsh, offasher.”

  “Your name, miss?” The gray-haired cop shines a flashlight into her eyes, frowns, and calls for an ambulance.

  Because she doesn’t answer, he picks up a small wire-bound notepad and his gaze meets mine, “How well do you know her?”

  Before I can respond, Star comes charging out of the dorm. “Oh my God! Kira? Is that you?”

  She pushes me aside, sees her friend’s state and pushes on my chest. “What did you do to her?”

  The younger policeman grabs her. “Hold on, missy. Do you know what she’s on?”

  “On? On? Jesus, lord have mercy.” She crosses herself. “She’s not on anything. No fucking way. She’d never take anything.”

  The older officer turns to me. “Are you her boyfriend?”

  “Yes, sir. Ryan Finnegan.”

  Thank God, he recognizes my name and a smile cracks open his hardened demeanor. “Right. I thought I recognized you. Quarterback. NFL-bound.”

  “I hope so, sir.”

  “Do you know what happened, here, son?” He waves over the ambulance and it pulls into the street in front of the dorm.

  Kira starts to shiver, so I put my jacket over her shoulders. “She and I were talking and I ah, had to take a call outside, out of the noise. I was only gone a few minutes. She wasn’t there when I got back so I asked around and someone said she went off with Ed-the-… Some guy named Ed. I know this guy’s reputation, so I ran like hell, found her in his room, and called nine-one-one.”

  “You did good, son. What room is Ed in?”

  “Three-oh-nine.”

  If that motherfucker raped her, NFL be damned, he may never piss again.

  All the while, Kira’s in this trance-like state, not running off at the mouth like usual. It’s fucking spooky. The ambulance arrives, two paramedics jump out and I wave them over. I answer their questions as best I can while they walk her to the vehicle.

  Me and Star climb in beside her but the woman paramedic takes my arm. “I think it best if only her girlfriend rides with us. If she wakes, she might not want a man around. Understand?”

  Ah hell, yeah, I do.

  My chest tight, I tap Star’s hand. “Take care of her and I’ll meet you there. You’ll call her parents?”

  “I got this, QB. Don’t worry.” Pinky slides in next to the gurney, the door slams shut, and the ambulance speeds away, sirens whoop-whooping.

  I dash back to the parking lot, jump in my ’vette and ask Google for directions to the hospital. Once there, I check the time. Fuck. I’ve missed curfew. I text my coach.

  Me: At hospital.

  CJ: You okay?

  Me: Not me. A girl. Drugged.

  CJ: B there soon.

  Me: I got this. C U in AM

  “Can I see Kira McKenzie?” I glance back at my car, idling in front of the emergency room entrance.

  The gray-haired woman at the front desk narrows her gaze. “Are you family?”

  “Yeah, she’s my sister.”

  “Wait there.” The clever old bird shakes her head, purses her lips, and points to Star who’s pacing between plastic chairs in the waiting area.

  I rush toward Kira’s friend, hold her arm, and twist her to face me. “How’s Kira?”

  Star glares at the nurse’s station. “That old fart won’t let me in to see her. I’m waiting for Kira’s mom to call me back.”

  The phone rings and Pinky glances down. “Hold on. This is her.”

  “Uh huh. Thank you, Mrs. McKenzie. I will.” After hanging up, she lifts her eyes to mine. “Kira is coming around. We can take her home in a few.”

  “Was she… Did Ed, ah…” Ah, shit. My throat constricts and my eyes sting.

  What if Kira had sex with him?

  Star puts her hand on my forearm. “You got there in time, Ryan. They checked. No signs of sexual assault.”

  I say a small prayer and my fist, which I didn’t even realize was clutched, uncurls. Wiggling my fingers, I race to the door where the officer who questioned me is about to exit the building.

  “Hey, wait up. Did you get that guy, Ed?

  “We’re che
cking out his story. He says she came willingly. Listen, son, let me give you some advice. Shit like this happens at the start of every semester. A girl like her is bad news. Stay clear.”

  Fuck. He’s blaming her?

  Recalling the fight in the parking lot, I clamp my mouth shut. I don’t need the police investigating my whereabouts tonight. After about an hour of cajoling, and a promise of tickets to the championship game, the old woman finally lets me pass into the emergency room bays.

  “Hey, Red.” My fucking heart leaps at her shy smile.

  She rubs her eyes and sits up on the bed. “Ryan. Thank God. I can’t remember anything. A policeman said you found me in some guy’s dorm room?”

  “Yeah.” I take her cold hand in mine, wondering how much I should say.

  Imploring eyes lift to mine. “Do you know how I got there?”

  How do I tell her Ed-the-bed was ready to fuck her and with her top untied, she appeared more than willing?

  I clear my throat and tell her my version of this evening. “I really don’t know. When I left, you were fine. I ran to check on a friend and when I got back, you were gone so I went looking.”

  A nurse steps into the bay and smiles kindly at Kira. “The doctor says you’re good to go but you should follow up with your regular physician.”

  She rolls her eyes and I know what she’s thinking. No one sees the on-campus doctors and no way would she bring this shit home and tell her parents.

  “Shit.” Kira climbs off the gurney and slips on her sandals.

  In the waiting area, a teary-eyed Star embraces her. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, girl.”

  “I’ll get the car. You guys wait out front.” On the way back, I reach for the gear shift and Kira’s soft hand covers mine.

  “Thank you, again.”

  I shoot her a smile, my chest hurting in a way it never has before. What if I’d been ten minutes later? I turn to ask if she’s going to press charges but it’ll have to wait because she’s snoring softly.

  Star says from the backseat. “You may have been her hero tonight but if you hurt her again, I will make your life a living hell.”

  I grunt because there’s no point in explaining to Star how Kira was the heartbreaker. After we made love, I was ready to ask her to stay with me, forever.

  Chapter 6

  Kira

  I wake with the mother of all headaches and wish I could stay in bed. However, I already missed a shitload of classes this week and can’t afford to miss more, not so early in the semester.

  Dressing in a t-shirt and jeans, I drag my sorry ass into the kitchen where Star puts a cup of joe in front of me. “How you feelin’?”

  “Like shit.” I check my phone for messages and smile because Ryan sent me this gif of a football player asleep on the field.

  I send him a meme of a woman with a hangover.

  After some caffeine, a thought hits my barely-firing brain synapses. “I don’t remember getting into bed last night.”

  She grins. “Ryan carried you in. Don’t worry. He was gone when I undressed you.”

  “You really are, like the best friend in the whole world. Thank you so much for coming to the hospital last night.” I give her a big hug.

  “It’s Ryan you need to thank. How much do you remember?”

  “That’s the weird thing. I remember talking to Ryan, then absolutely nothing. Not even like when you’re drunk and have a few lapses. It’s like my memory was wiped. It’s really scary. And I keep thinking, why would I go anywhere with Ed-the-Bed? Ewww. I feel so slimy, like some kind of slut. God, the guilt, it’s just horrible.”

  Star places a bowl of cornflakes in front of me. “You got nothing to be guilty about. Someone roofied you.”

  I point to my temple, “I get it up here,” then jab at my heart, “It’s in here I’m all screwed up.”

  Star grabs her purse and a light jacket. “Listen, I got to go, psychology test. We’ll talk more about this later?”

  “Go, go. I’m good.” I take one bite of cereal, chug my coffee, and dash to class for the longest day, ever.

  Finally, I crash. Somehow, I manage to make it through one more day of classes and wake up around noon, Saturday. After a big brunch, Star and I walk to campus, carrying our newly dry-cleaned band uniforms. The stadium has a huge crowd, already.

  We warm up in the practice room, march out onto the field, and play our alma mater as the players rush onto the green. During a timeout, I glance over and catch Ryan’s eye. In full uniform, he’s massive. His tight pants hug his thighs and I recall how they felt between mine as we fucked.

  Damn. Missed a note.

  Behind me, Star pokes me with her drum stick as we climb up the bleachers. Never before, have I paid so much attention to the game. My heart races as the ball is kicked and caught by the Pitbull’s. Then, Matt rushes it forward but is tackled midfield.

  Ohio struggles for a first down and misses the opportunity so the ball goes to the Pitbulls. Our team huddles it makes a formation, and Ryan calls the signal.

  “Hut, hut-five, left-two!”

  The ball snaps into Ryan’s hands, he backs up, and makes a long pass to Jackson but he misses. The second play is better, and by half-time, we’re ahead, six-zip. When I catch Ryan’s eye, he’s not happy and neither is CJ, the new coach. Even though the Pitbulls have the lead, they’re not connecting as a team. Ohio State is nowhere near as good as FSCU. We should be way ahead by now.

  After the team leaves the field, the band takes over. Behind me, Star bangs a marching cadence with the rest. A choreographed ballet, we make our moves; three steps, right, right, four steps, swivel left. The crowd cheers our final notes and we march back into the stands.

  For our team, the second half isn’t much better than the first. Cheerleaders shout and we help with our instruments to urge our team to victory. Finally, Quest makes a kick, I hold my breath, and the ball flies between the two goal posts.

  Woo hoo!

  After a big win, the band usually hangs out with the team but not today. CJ and the assistant coach are pissed, and the team is no-doubt going to get chewed out.

  I’m good with going home. I got plenty of homework and am still shaky from Thursday night. For a while I settle down on my bed and work but my mind wanders. Having a hole in my memory sucks big time. No matter how hard I try, everything’s a blank from the first sip of water until waking up in the emergency room.

  I need closure. Finding my cell phone, I find the card the officer left with me and am transferred to Officer Buonanno, in charge of my case.

  “Hi, ah. This is Kira McKenzie. I was wondering… Did you find out who roofied me?”

  There’s a bit of silence before he lets out his breath. “I’m sorry, Ms. McKenzie. There’s nothing more I can do.”

  “Excuse me?” Perhaps, I misheard.

  “There were over a hundred kids at that party. No one saw who dosed your water bottle, as far as we can tell.”

  “And what about Ed?” I pull up his picture on Instagram but nothing about him seems remotely familiar.

  “Witnesses said you went with him willingly.”

  “Impossible, I’ve never seen him before in my life but I know his reputation. I wouldn’t go up to his room. I’m not like that.” I blink back tears.

  “What about Ryan Finnegan? I understand you and he were close?”

  So, being with him one night makes me a skank. For God’s sake, I’ve only had two men in my life. If it wasn’t so horrible, I’d laugh.

  “So, you’re done investigating? I’m almost raped and you do nothing?”

  “If you remember anything…”

  “Well, it seems pretty unlikely, doesn’t it?” I hang up and pound a fist on my bed. Shit. I know he’s only doing his job but how is this justice?

  Someone needs to do something.

  The topic of my journalism report comes to me in a flash. I search online and get a little freaked out by the data. In 2016, over three-hu
ndred thousand sexual assaults were reported in the US but many more occurred. Of those people who reported having had food or drink spiked, over half said it happened in college and was most often confused with binge drinking.

  Holy shit, I’m lucky I didn’t have a few beers, otherwise the effects of the drug could’ve been fatal. I need to find out what they gave me. Surely, the hospital will be able to tell me.

  My phone rings and it’s Cher. “Way to answer your texts, sis.”

  “Sorry.” But I’m not. I don’t need lectures from my bossy older sibling.

  “Mom said you went to some party and were attacked by some guy. So? Are you okay?” Cher’s heart is in the right place but she never gets her facts straight.

  When she and my Mom get talking, events get distorted beyond recognition.

  With that in mind, I bend the truth a little. “I had a little too much to drink, ended up in a guy’s room, and my boyfriend freaked. It was nothing.”

  “Wait, Derrick was there?”

  I sigh, stand, and grab a beer from the fridge. “No, Cher. Derrick and I broke up over a month ago. Remember? I told you.”

  “No, you didn’t. I thought you two were getting married next summer.”

  Dear God, help me. I can’t have this conversation right now. “Nope. We’re done. And I’m fine. Tell me, how’s Piper.”

  Her daughter is the cutest three-year-old, ever, and once I get my sister talking about her, she forgets all about my misstep.

  Mission accomplished, I hang up, and check my texts.

  Ryan: Hey?

  Ryan: Call me later.

  Ryan: You awake?

  Cher: Call me

  Mom: Call your sister

  Ryan: Got practice. Talk later

  Alice: Mom says to call her

  Sighing, I dial my sixteen-year-old sister, Alice.

  Her hello is tight and short. “Would you please call Mom? She’s driving me insane. And what happened? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, be careful though, when you go out. I was roofied.” I wander back to my bedroom and sit.

  “My God. Did anybody try anything?”

  I shudder to think what could’ve happened. “No. Luckily one of my friends found me, otherwise…”