Garrett is totally right about getting me out of my own head. As soon as we walk through the door of his house, we are engulfed by his family. His younger sisters dote on me, and his mum is kind and eager to chat. I don’t have a moment to think about my crappy life. I have no choice but to be in the here and now.
We help his sisters with their diorama project for school, and I find out that Garrett is actually quite creative. I even get roped into staying for dinner where Garrett insists I help him and his mum cook Spaghetti Bolognese. I consider telling him I don’t like to cook, but I keep that to myself. He seems so happy and content in his small kitchen cooking with his mum and me, and in the end, I have to admit; I have fun.
It’s after eight when Shaun drops by with his older brother to pick me up and take me home. Like Garrett, I’ve only known Shaun for a couple of years, and while I’ve been subject to his flirty ways many a time, I don’t think I’ve ever been alone with him for long. Tonight, however, he’s my babysitter, and it’s just him and me alone in my house.
After Shaun’s brother drops us off, I shower in my mum’s bathroom while Shaun plays some online game on the PlayStation. Alone with my thoughts once again, Ayden comes to mind before Mike’s attack rudely bursts in. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to shower again without remembering his face or how he pleasured himself in front of me? I deliberately run the water scalding hot and let my skin turn pink under the burn while I cry silently, needing to take this moment alone to let it out.
Why haven’t the police found him yet? Are they even looking? Knowing he’s still out there somewhere is turning me into a crazed bitch. Surely he wouldn’t be idiotic enough to stay in Fox Pines? He’s on parole, for fuck's sake. He legally can’t leave the state, although what he did to me wasn’t legal either, so why would he care? With any luck, he will be caught soon, and then I will be free to try and live a normal life.
Getting out of the shower, I avoid looking at myself in the mirror and make no attempt to wipe away the fog. While going to Garrett’s house was nice, I haven’t had a chance to go for a run or punch out my frustrations on the boxing bag.
Glancing down, my eyes catch on the shaver resting on the sink. Shit! My heart races, and I brace my hands on the bench-top forcing my eyes away from it. There’s a reason I started beating the shit out of the bag in the garage and running on the treadmill until the burning pain gets so intense that I can no longer feel anything. While it’s helping me to feel stronger, the real reason I started doing it has everything to do with that razor.
My eyes flick to it again, and I feel like screaming. I don’t understand why I feel like this, but I have an overwhelming need to remove the blade and slice it over my skin. It’s completely fucked up and scares the shit out of me! I’ve never had such an impulse. Never considered physically harming myself until I arrived home from the city.
“You’re so fucked in the head,” I say out loud to myself, attempting to shake myself out of the funk I’m in right now. The few times I’ve had this feeling, I’ve managed to drag myself away before following through, and instead, burn off the emotions and impulses in the garage.
It’s late now, though. I really need to be winding down for the day, and somehow try to turn off my overthinking brain, so I dig deep and turn away from the bench to snatch up my PJ shorts that are in a crumpled heap on the floor. Once they are on, I move to grab my Three Days Grace t-shirt that I hung over the towel rail this morning, only it isn’t there.
“What the fuck!” I’m sure I put it there this morning. Just like I’m sure I put my Metallica t-shirt there the morning before.
Moving into my mum’s room, I glance around searching for my missing clothes, but my t-shirt isn’t here either. Shit, I have no top to put on.
Throwing on my crop top, I leave my mum’s room and walk through the house, scanning every piece of furniture or bench-top for my t-shirt as I go. It’s not in the kitchen, not in the laundry, or hanging out on the line under the patio either. Marching past the living room, and ignoring Shaun when he calls out to me, I go upstairs to my room.
The doors are back on now, thanks to the boys. I hesitate for a moment, anxiety racing my heart in fear of not knowing what’s on the other side of the door. It’s ridiculous. It makes no sense for me to be panicking about this, so I hold my breath and turn the knob, opening the door. My heartbeat pounds in my ears when I’m met with darkness. Snaking my quivering hand inside the door frame, I feel for the light switch and flick it on quickly.
“Wanna tell me why you’re walking around half-naked?” Shaun’s voice causes me to jump, a scream ripping from my lips.
“What the fuck, Bossi!” I hiss, clutching my chest, turning to look at him standing behind me. “Did you have to sneak up on me?”
“Ah… I didn’t sneak Lex. Those stairs are creaky as fuck. I couldn’t sneak up them if I tried.”
He has a point. They are creaky. I know exactly where to step to make little noise, but he doesn’t.
“Sorry, Shaun.” If I’m not careful, he’s going to see right past my attempt at hiding how fucked up I really am and do a runner, probably taking the other boys with him. Then I’ll be all alone again.
“Ah, Lex? Why are you only wearing a bra and shorts?” Shaun’s steel-grey gaze travels over my body.
“Did I say you could look at me like that?” I raise a brow at him and then return my sights to looking for my t-shirt.
“I’m a guy. Tits and arse turn my brain into mush. Besides, you’ve got it all going on, Lexi. It’s hard to think straight around you when you’re fully clothed. Don’t expect much from me when you’re wearing next to nothing.”
I give up on looking for my t-shirt and grab my Slipknot one from my draw, quickly covering up.
“Better?” I ask Shaun, and he drags his eyes to my legs.
“I also like legs.”
“Fucking hell Shaun.” Shaking my head at him, I slip past and head to the upstairs bathroom. I put my hand on the doorknob to open it but freeze, unable to go through with it. Dropping my hand, I step back.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Shaun slips his hand in mine and wraps his other one over the top, drawing my attention from the bathroom door.
“I’m trying to find my t-shirt.”
“You think it’s in there?” He asks, looking at the closed door.
I shrug.
“You don’t want to go in there?” His question is more like a statement. He’s obviously putting two and two together. “How about I go in there and look for it?” He asks, and I nod gratefully.
“It’s a black Three Days Grace t-shirt. While you’re there, can you check if my Metallica one is in there too? It’s also black.”
“Sure, chickadee. Be right back.” Shaun drops my hand, shooting me a wink, and opens the bathroom door slipping in. I turn my back to the door, not wanting to see anything inside that room. The thought alone is turning the pasta I had for dinner over in my stomach.
Shaun is back a minute later empty-handed. “There’s nothing in there, Lex.” He looks confused, his steel-grey eyes latching onto mine.
Looking away, I walk off towards Mike’s room and look in through the splintered door frame. Nothing has changed from Friday when I trashed it, so I go to the last place left to look. The garage. It’s a waste of time. My t-shirts aren’t in there either, so I go back inside.
“I don’t understand.” I plonk down on the couch next to Shaun, taking in his Latino features. He’s undoubtedly attractive, which helps his Casanova complex; with hair as rich as a black coffee, tanned skin, full lips and a sharp jawline, he is the boy all the girl's dream of snagging. Well, all except me. My heart belongs to Ayden.
There goes my heart again.
Ayden, I miss you!
“When did you last see them?” Shaun asks, snapping me out of my Ayden daydream and reminding me that my t-shirts are missing.
“I’m certain that I hung my Three Days Grace t-shirt over the towel rail in my
mum’s bathroom this morning. And the same with my Metallica t-shirt the morning before. But they aren’t there when I go to look for them each night. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
Shaun is quiet for a few minutes, his white teeth biting into his lip as he mulls over something, and then asks me to stay put while he does his own search. He doesn’t do a man’s look either. I hear him going through every room, every cupboard and drawer looking for my t-shirts. Fifteen minutes later, he is back with me on the couch, and I know without a doubt that I’m not imagining things. My stuff has gone missing.
“Has anything else gone missing?” Shaun asks, glancing around the living room.
I frown, “Ah, yeah—the pictures off the fridge. I noticed them gone a couple of days ago. They were of my mum and me.”
Taking my jittery hands in one of his, Shaun looks concerned before releasing my hand again and pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“I’m just gonna pop into the garage and make a quick call. Will you be okay here?”
I frown but nod, unsure why he needs to go to the garage to make the call. A few minutes later, as he’s walking back in, I get a private message on my phone from Marcus.
Marcus Grady
If you need me or any of us to come and stay with you and Shaun, we will be there in a heartbeat.
“Which one sent you a message?” Shaun asks, and I hold up my phone so he can see. Shaking his head, he sits back down with me on the couch, “I told them not to message you. He’s fucking hopeless.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing Lex. I just thought I’d check with them to see if any of the guys took your stuff as a joke.”
“And?” I already know the answer.
“They didn’t.”
I must look worried because Shaun pulls me to his chest for a hug.
“It’s okay Lex. We have your back. Everything is okay.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
“It’s not really, but I appreciate you trying to make me feel better.” My words make him smile.
“You know what you need?” Shaun looks devious. I should probably be scared.
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
He laughs, “Well honey, any time you want some of this,” he gestures to himself, “Then just say the word, and I’ll make you forget your own name. But for now, let’s watch The Office.”
So that’s what we do. Huddling up in the blankets on the floor, we watch back-to-back episodes of The Office until I fall asleep next to him on the same makeshift bed Simon had made the night before.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I don’t sleep well. My mind goes to dark places in my sleep, and I end up in the garage by 4am beating the shit out of the bag. Shaun checks on me at one point but leaves me to my inner rage to get his own sleep.
By 6am, I send Valarie a message asking if her mum has been in my house to do any of my washing. By 7am, she replies with a “no” and wants to know if everything is okay. I don’t want to worry her, so I tell her everything is fine and leave it at that.
I deliberately leave my Slipknot t-shirt over the end of my mum's bed when I dress for school, taking a picture of exactly where I leave it. I’ve got no idea what’s going on, but I know I’m not going crazy. My t-shirts, and possibly the pictures off the fridge have gone missing. The only way that can happen is if someone has taken them. My boys haven’t taken the items, in this, I am sure. But someone has.
Shaun’s brother picks us up and drops us out the front of the school, where the other boys are waiting for us. When we approach, I get hugs from each of them, feeling a little overwhelmed at their unconditional support. It’s nice to feel their arms around me. The only problem is the only person’s arms I want to feel around me isn’t here. He hasn’t even responded to my drunk text, even though I know he’s read it after seeing the response bubbles the other day. In all fairness, I don’t blame him. It was a stupid text. But I said that I was sorry too, so surely that should mean something, right?
My exhaustion has me in a sour mood, and I don’t talk much to the boys or anyone else for that matter. They respect my need to be quiet, but I can tell by the concern etched across their faces that something is going on. I suspect they’re thinking the same thing as me but don’t want to worry me, so they keep quiet. At this point, I’m sure that someone is coming into my house and stealing my things. The worrying part about it is that there’s a high chance that it’s Mike. It’d be just like him to try and screw with my head like this.
My first two classes are double Media, and for the first time, I notice that Tillie and Dale are in my class. I’m annoyed at myself for not noticing them before, the old me too far up her own arse to see anyone but the bitch squad, apparently. Tillie and Dale sit with me, so I’m not alone. I’m thankful to have met them through Rhys. They are funny and manage to get me to smile a couple of times as we do our Media tasks. It probably helps that Tasha isn’t in class today. I have no idea where she is, but her absence makes it easier for me to concentrate.
At the start of recess, I ditch my books in my locker, ready to dash away quickly to avoid the boys, when I come face to face with Tasha fucking Pritchard. Ugh, I had hoped since she wasn’t in Media class that she was away again today.
“You think you’re so good, don’t you? Brainwashing the boys to follow you around like lost puppies. What did you do? Spread your legs for them like you did for your brother?”
I try. I really do try not to lose it, but the bitch knows how to push my buttons and her words are heard by swarms of students in the passageway. I have no control over my fist as it attempts to slam the bitch in her ugly beady-eyed face, but strong arms wrap around me and pull me back, my swing meeting thin air.
“No, Lex,” Marcus growls in my ear as Rhys strolls in front of me, walking right up to Tasha, grabbing her face and planting a kiss on her lips.
“Eww! Get off me you freak!” Tasha screeches, shoving Rhys back into me, making her laugh.
“What’s wrong, Tasha baby? Don’t want people to know how you love to kiss my lips? Or should I say, both sets of my lips?” Rhys smiles like the smug bitch she is, and Tasha looks around at our audience, horrified before huffing and storming off.
Laughter fills the air from the bystanders, and Rhys turns to me.
“I guess she didn’t want people to know how much she likes kissing me.” She flutters her dark lashes at me, feigning innocence.
“Rhys, you are going to get yourself into trouble one day.” I grin.
“I do hope so. Trouble is so much fun.” The boys behind me chuckle, and I shove away from Marcus, who hasn’t made an attempt to let go of me.
“Lexi?” Miss Dice steps into our circle, concerned brown eyes peering at me through her glasses. “I think maybe it would be a good idea for you to go and see Mr Matthews.”
My shoulders drop, and I almost whine. “Why?”
“You know why, Lexi.” Miss Dice glances around at my friends before returning her brown eyes to me. She seems unsure of how much she should say in front of them.
“You can speak in front of them. They’re cool.” I let her know, and Rhys hooks her arm in mine, dropping her head on my shoulder.
“Lexi,” Miss Dice lowers her voice, “It’s either to the Counsellor or the Principal.”
“But why? I didn’t do anything.”
“Only because Marcus stopped you. If he hadn’t, then we would have had a repeat of Monday. Please go and see Mr Matthews so we can avoid involving the Principal.”
I can see Miss Dice thinks she is helping. Mr Matthews had asked me to try to control my anger. I mean, I did try… Kind of.
“Can I go after recess?” I ask, wanting to avoid it altogether.
“No, now, please. I’ll walk with you.” Miss Dice isn’t backing down, so I pry Rhys’s hold off me and follow Miss Dice.
Glancing back, I see Rhys wiggle her fingers in a wave while Marcus and Jared stand arms cr
ossed over their chests, frowns contorting their faces. It almost makes me want to run up and hug them and tell them everything will be alright. Rhys may be a new addition in my life, but she sure is a loyal addition, much like the boys. Or my pack, as Rhys calls them.
I sit and wait inside the counsellor's office as he and Miss Dice talk quietly outside the door before he shuts us in and joins me.
“Natasha Pritchard strikes again.” Mr Matthews states, sitting down.
“Why isn’t that bitch being hauled in here? Why is it always me?”
“Well, mainly because your first instinct is to use violence.” Mr Matthews doesn’t bother with a file or note pad. He knows how I feel about that.
“That’s a crock of shit. She provoked me! Words can be just as harmful as physical violence, you know!” My face is burning with anger, and I feel like smashing things. I probably shouldn’t admit that to my counsellor, though.
“Yes, I know, and we will follow up on her actions later, but right now, my concern is you.”
“Why?” I grumble. I was looking forward to spending time with my new friends during recess, but instead, I’m spending it getting interrogated by the bald, yet kind of cool counsellor. He’s lucky I like him!
“Because you’re having trouble controlling your anger. Have you thought about doing some exercise to burn off the anger and clear your head?” Mr Matthews looks more relaxed in his chair today. Unlike me. I’m a ball of tension.
“I already do.” I snap.
“Like what?”
“I run, most days, and I hit the bag at home.”
“At home? Aren’t you staying with a friend?”
Shit!
“Well yeah. I mean at their place. It’s home for now.”
Deep (Heavy Hearts Book 2) Page 12