by S. J. Sylvis
Piper was the only one who reacted. She scooted up onto my bed and put her arm around Hayley. At first, Hayley didn’t move, but she eventually rested her head on Piper’s shoulder and teetered her lip back and forth.
The words barely made it out of my mouth. They were choppy, like waves crashing against a shoreline. “You think it was them tonight?”
Hayley’s blue eyes peered up at me, so glossy they looked like glass. “Maybe. I don’t think they were necessarily trying to hurt me, but I fought them so much they had to hold me down and make me stop.”
Rage filled my vessels.
“They took a picture of me as the one guy was holding my head down on the ground.” Her forehead furrowed. “The other was waiting for confirmation that I was the right girl. They were going to take me anyway and then dump me if I wasn’t whoever their boss wanted.” She gulped, and her voice teetered on the edge of hysteria. “Maybe it was Gabe. I don’t know. Nothing ever confirmed who wanted me. It could have been Gabe that they were waiting for a text from, but that doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabe was in the game. How would he text them back if he was playing football? Whoever it was probably has a nice gash on their hand from when I bit them. That’s when I ran.” She trembled, and I ran my hands through my hair. She’s had enough for tonight. I stood there, looking at her as Piper rubbed her arm up and down. Hayley was staring off into space, a blank look on her face. Her lip was turning even redder from the constant biting. The hard exterior she’d formed around herself was no longer there. I was seeing the real Hayley. The one who wasn’t hiding behind anger or resentment. The one who wasn’t shying away from the truth or hiding behind lies. She was real. She was real, and she was scared, and she was hurt. Emotionally and physically.
I pushed off from the wall and stopped at the end of the bed. Ollie glanced up at me for a moment as I looked to Hayley and Piper. “What do you want to eat?”
Hayley furrowed her brow. “What?”
“I’m going to get us all something to eat. What do you want?”
A ghost of a smile brushed over her mouth. “I tell you that the men who killed my father and threatened me may have sent someone to kidnap me tonight, and you want to know what I want to eat?”
“Yes.”
Piper sat up a little straighter, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Maybe we should discuss—I don’t know—calling the police?!” She looked at Hayley for backup, but she quickly shook her head.
“No. No police. There’s no point now. They’re gone. I have no clue what they look like, and”—she sighed—“the police don’t really take people like me seriously.”
“But they’ll take us seriously.” Ollie finally stood up. “Our father knows plenty of law enforcement; you know he has tons of people in his pocket, lawyers—the police chief himself, if I’m not mistaken.”
Hayley laughed. “We are in no way getting your father involved.” She threw her head back and looked at the ceiling. “It was a cold case. They never found the men who killed my father.” She leveled us with a stare. “Not that I think they put much effort into it. They wouldn’t tell me much. My mom ran as fast as she could away from my father’s problems. It’s a fucked-up situation, but there’s not much anyone can do.”
Piper looked at Hayley. “We should go to the police.”
She shook her head again. “Piper, there’s nothing they can do, and I really don’t want this on my record.”
Piper's voice grew loud, and she flew up from the bed. “So what? You’re just going to go about your day and hope no one else tries to kidnap or hurt you again—or worse?”
Hayley’s features softened, her pouty mouth smiling sadly. “What are the police going to do, Pipe? Give me my own personal bodyguard? The only thing they’ll do is tell me to keep my eyes open and to stay vigilant. To call them if I suspect someone is following me. They don’t care about some threat that was made five years ago. Especially since no one even knew who made that threat. No one but my father, and that’s not exactly helpful since he’s dead.”
Piper stood with her hands on her hips, huffing out a breath. Ollie worked his jaw back and forth, thinking, analyzing.
“What do you want to eat?”
Hayley’s eyes flicked to mine, and I swore I saw a smidge of gratitude in them. “You don’t have to feed me. I’m fine.” She slowly swung her legs over the bed, trying to hide a wince on her face. “I think we better get going.”
A choppy laugh escaped from deep within my chest. “What do you want to eat?”
She gave me a pointed look, her legs slowly dropping to the carpet. “I appreciate you helping me tonight, but you don’t have to do this. I’m fine.”
I stormed over to her, put my hand underneath her chin, and angled it to my face. Her warmth hit me head-on. “What do you want to eat?”
“Christian.”
I grabbed her face a little tighter, and she bit down on that red lip. I swiped my finger up and released it. Her eyes glossed over. “What do you want to eat? And don’t even act like you’re about to walk out of my house. You and Piper are both staying here tonight, and I’ll be climbing through your window every fucking night until I feel you’re safe.”
A small growl vibrated in her throat. “I’ll eat your food, and I guess we can stay here if Piper is okay with it. But you’re not climbing through my damn window every night and staying with me. I can protect myself.”
I laughed sarcastically, then I looked over at Piper for confirmation. She shrugged. “We can stay here, but”—she glared at Ollie—“don’t get any ideas. I’m not sleeping in your bed.”
Ollie’s mouth tugged upward. He gave her the grin that made girls weak in the knees. “We’ll see.”
“Ugh,” she yelled as she plopped down on my pillows. “My first sleepover with Hayley and it’s with you two egotistical jerks.”
I fought back a true laugh, but I kept a hold of Hayley’s face.
“Chicken. I want chicken nuggets.”
I couldn’t help it. I threw my head back and let the laugh out. “Chicken nuggets?”
She pushed my hand off her chin and crawled back into my bed with Piper. But this time, she pulled the covers down and shimmied underneath.
“What are you? Five?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Her face flushed as she looked at the ceiling. “No, I’m hungry, and they’re my favorite food.”
It was difficult to keep my face neutral. “Chicken nuggets it is. Let’s go, Ol.”
He glanced at Piper. “Chicken nuggets for you too?”
She thought for a moment and shrugged. “Sure.”
“We’ll be back.” I turned around once more and glanced at Hayley. “Don’t get any fucking bright ideas to leave and go to Piper’s while we’re out getting chicken nuggets, Hayley. And lock the door behind us.”
She tried to fight a grin. “I’m locking my window tomorrow night. This is the only night we will ever spend together. You got it?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll fucking see.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hayley
I lay in my bed, underneath the ratty quilt, and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. It was moments like this that I wished I could turn my brain off. I didn’t usually think of the past or the life I’d had. When I lay down in bed, I popped my old iPod in my ears and listened to music until I fell asleep. But tonight, my iPod was laying on the ground beside the mattress, and I just stared.
Last night was strange. It felt like a hazy dream, except I had the bumps and bruises to prove that it wasn’t. From going to the football game and trying to be a normal senior in high school, to getting attacked, then staying at Christian’s. It had all felt very surreal.
It felt like something was shifting between us. Not only did he swoop in and save the day, he bought me chicken nuggets, let Piper and me stay in his bed while we watched Gossip Girl for hours, and didn’t once scowl in my direction. After
Ollie made Piper and me breakfast—which according to Christian, he never did much of anything in the mornings—we left with the threat of Christian staying with me tonight.
Pete didn’t say a word about my face. He didn’t even glance at me when I walked through the door, and Jill was asleep when I came home this morning. I stayed upstairs in my room the entire day, working on homework and trying not to think about the past, empty threats, or Christian. When I finally caved and went downstairs a few hours ago to grab some water and food, Pete and Jill weren’t even home. I had no idea where they were—maybe on a date. I chuckled aloud to myself. Yeah right. Regardless, my door was locked at 8pm sharp, so they were back home, and Jill was probably sucking his cock as I lay up here, thinking.
Reluctantly, a certain question kept sliding into my thoughts: Would Christian really come tonight? I told him, several times, I was locking my window, so there was no use for him to even attempt, but something in my heart dinged when his gray eyes grew dark and he muttered, “I'll pop it open.”
Did I want him to climb through my window? No! Yes! Wait, no! I slapped my hands over my face and ran them down the sides of my cheeks. I hated that I liked the excitement bubbling up inside of me. I hated that I got butterflies when he took my face in his hand last night. My heart actually bloomed in my chest when he told me he wanted me safe.
The thought of meaning something to someone was new to me, and I liked it. It made me feel warm and safe, and that was very dangerous to feel in a life like mine. Things were constantly changing, revolving. People were in and out. Getting attached to anything or anyone wasn’t in the cards for me—until it was.
Now I had Piper, who I’d known for a few weeks now, but she was probably the closest friend I’d ever had. I trusted her. She didn’t turn on her heel to save herself when she found me bleeding and terrified. She didn’t run when things turned bad, and that said a lot about a person.
Then you had Ollie, who was nice to me from the very beginning, but something about his playfulness made me want to hold onto him forever.
And Christian—the boy who swore he hated me, wanted me gone, said I was part of his mom’s death, sent scowls my way in school, had Madeline dump her lunch tray on my chest the first day of school—was, for some reason, demanding I let him in my bedroom at night so he could make sure I was safe. He was now the boy who had wanted to kill Pete when he learned that he had hit me. He wanted to go back and strangle the guys who attacked me at the game. He wanted me to stay at his house, and he tended to my wounds. All those good things pulled me in, and I never wanted to let him go, but the guarded part of myself cowered beneath the surface. Pushing him away might hurt less than losing him in the long run, because I’d already lost him once in the midst of losing everything—and it stung.
A sound jerked me out of my thoughts. I sat up in bed and bounced my attention back and forth from the bedroom door to the window. My heart picked up its pace; butterflies invaded my stomach. I felt giddy, and I couldn’t remember the last time I'd ever felt like that.
One long, lean, jean-clad leg tore through my window once it was pulled open, and I stayed ramrod straight in my bed. I felt pathetic that I wore my best band t-shirt and nicest sleep shorts when I climbed in my bed tonight, just in case he followed through with his threat.
I was a typical schoolgirl at that moment. Not caring about much in my life other than a boy who probably didn’t carry even a fraction of the feelings I carried. He wanted me safe, but that didn’t mean he got excited when he saw me or felt a tightening in his lower stomach at the thought of kissing me.
Once Christian was fully inside my bedroom, he turned around and closed the window. He placed his hands on his hips and kept his body angled toward mine. It was dark in my room, the only light from the nighttime sky filtering through the glass. I couldn’t make out his face all together, but I was certain he was wearing a grin.
“Thought you were going to lock it,” he half-whispered.
My face flamed, and I was grateful the room was still dark. “I forgot…” I exhaled slowly. “You don’t need to be here, Christian. I’m fine. All tucked away and locked in my room. What do you think is going to happen?”
Christian inched further into the room. I watched as he tore his jacket off and laid it on the ground near my laptop. Next, his dark figure walked closer to my mattress, and he sat down with his back resting along the wall. His long legs were pulled up with his arms resting on top.
I could see him clearly now. The sharp angle of his jaw as the moon’s light cut through the room, the high cheekbones and straight nose. The only thing I couldn’t tell was the color of his eyes, but I knew those by heart: stormy, sometimes lighter and sometimes darker.
His gravelly voice finally broke the silence. “Who knows. Maybe those fuckers know where you live, and maybe they’ll climb through your window. Maybe they’ll pay Pete to unlock your door. Or”—Christian’s voice grew quieter—“maybe Pete will try something. Whatever. I’ll be here in case something does happen.”
I paused. I told my heart to stop beating so fast and made sure my voice wasn’t high-pitched and girly when I said, “I told you I can take care of myself, Christian. I’m not asking you to save me or to protect me.”
I didn’t need to see his eyes to know how serious he was. “You never would, and that’s precisely why I’m here.”
“To protect me because I wouldn’t ask you to?”
“Everyone needs to be saved every once in a while, Hayley. Just let me be the one to do it.”
Asking why seemed redundant. He always danced around the reason, which only left me more curious. Does he have some hidden feelings for me? Did the kiss mean something to him, too? Did he have some strange knight-and-shining-armor fantasy he wanted to act out? Did he realize I didn’t have anything to do with his mom's death? Was this guilt for the way he had treated me?
“Whatever,” I finally said. The word sounded so juvenile in this situation. “But you’re not sleeping on the bed.”
He grunted. “Well, I’m sure as fuck not sleeping on the floor.” He poked the side of my mattress. “Though it may be more comfortable.”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “Oh, shut up. Not everyone can have a rich daddy like you.”
A barely there chuckle escaped him.
“So…” I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling again. “What do you plan to do in the morning? And where does your dad think you are?”
“My dad’s never home. And I’ll climb out of your window and go home to shower and then go to school.”
I played the devil's advocate. “So, what if my kidnappers watch you leave and then come and get me?” Christian didn’t say anything, so I rolled on my side and gazed at the side of his face. “I was kidding. I’m not totally helpless.” Little did he know I had a steak knife underneath my mattress—just in case.
“You know…” He slowly turned his face in my direction. “Maybe I’ll just shower here and drive you to school.”
I laughed out loud before I slapped my hand over my mouth, bringing my voice to a whisper. “Yeah right. Pete times my showers. Six minutes or he will shut the water off. What makes you think he’ll allow me to take two showers, assuming he won’t know that you’re the second shower of the morning?”
“He times your showers?” Appalled, he shook his head and muttered something under his breath.
“Not the point.” I rested my head in the palm of my hand. “The point is, there’s no way that’ll work.”
“Unless…” Christian’s whispers shouldn’t have sounded so appealing and sexy. They sent a shiver down my spine, almost as if he were whispering in my ear with his warm breath hitting just the right spot. “I shower with you. We can both shower within six minutes. Pete will never know.”
Two things happened: I felt hot all over—even my core felt like it was in the bottom of a volcano—and my brain screamed the word yes!
My mouth, however, did not. “In your
dreams, Christian.”
He chuckled and mumbled something, but I wasn’t sure what. “I guess I’ll sneak out when Piper shows up to pick you up. Then, I’ll go home and shower and get to school. You two goody-goods get to school way before the first bell rings anyway. I’ll have time.” His shirt scratched along the wall as he shrugged. “And if I don’t, Headmaster Walton will write me a note—anything to keep his star student safe.”
My face blanched. “What? I’m not his star student.”
“With SAT scores like the ones you have? Having students as smart as you brings in potential donations and future Ivy-League-destined individuals, so trust me, he doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”
My heart studded to a stop. “How do you know my SAT scores?”
Christian swiveled his head in my direction. We were looking at one another, and even through the blackness of my room, I swore I could feel his stare. “I looked through your file.”
I felt the muscles in my face falling. “You...what? My entire file?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Yes.”
So that’s what this is about. Pity. Instantly, I felt my hopes come crashing down. I felt stupid. And worse, I felt ashamed.
“That’s why you're here.” I said it aloud as I was thinking it. Like he wasn’t even in the room.
“I’m here because—"
“Because you feel bad for me.” I scoffed and fell back onto the bed. “I don’t need your pity. I had a fucked-up life after my dad died. So what? The girl you knew back then is gone. I don’t even remember her. I don’t need you to save me anymore, Christian.”
“You should know by now that I don’t give people pity.”
“That’s why you're here!” I whisper-yelled. “You read my file. Learned all there is to know about me and my life. How my mom is now a crackhead and gave up her rights to me the first time CPS was called, how my dad was murdered because he was a part of some sketchy money laundering shit, how I’ve lived in seven foster homes, and well, I told you about Gabe, so you know everything there is to know about that.” I felt my body shaking with anger. I wanted to scream. The frustration I felt was inevitable. The frustration not only over the fact that Christian knew things about me that I wanted to keep buried, but also because a lot of people knew things about me that I didn’t want to even think about myself. That was all I was to most people: a freaking file.