Shame (Ruin #3)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  This was the lesson I hated.

  Because it was too close to home.

  I knew more than I’d like to know about the topic.

  “Sociopaths,” I said in closing, “are usually well-liked, good-looking people. They’re people you trust, people that seem like Good Samaritans. Take, for example, Ted Bundy. I think the misconception, especially with TV these days, is that if someone looks harmful, they are harmful. What about a stranger, someone you see on the street? Their hair is messy, they’re talking to themselves, and they’re waving their hands all over the place. They wave a gun in the air, and you immediately think they’re going to start shooting.”

  I shrugged and glanced around the room, making eye contact with a few of the students without really seeing them. “Take a similar situation: a nice-looking doctor pulls out a gun and smiles. Are you going to immediately duck? Or will you think, wow, is he protecting me from something? Science has proven you’re more trusting of those who appear to be trustworthy, which means those intelligent, attractive people, who are, most likely, well-spoken. It’s why you can’t ever base your judgment on someone solely on his looks or what you perceive her intellect to be. You don’t know their stories, and, for some of these cases you’ll be reading about, the victims didn’t know until it was too late. I’m not saying this to freak out the entire sophomore class.”

  Chuckles followed.

  Good, I was still reaching them. “But I think it should be fair warning to look beyond the masks and into the person’s soul. Study the nonverbal cue charts, and let that be what you put your trust in. Subconscious movements don’t lie.”

  I checked my watch. “Alright, looks like we’re out of time. Be sure to look over the human emotion study sheets. We’ll be having a quiz tomorrow.”

  The sound of scraping chairs and talking filled the room. Lisa was rooted to her seat, her eyes glazed over like she was in another time, another place.

  Jack waved in front of her face, then shrugged and walked off.

  Students piled out of the room.

  And finally it was just me and her.

  When she didn’t move, I got nervous, so I shut the door to the classroom and slowly made my way to her desk.

  Her eyes were wide, her mouth tight, jaw clenched.

  “Lisa?” I whispered. “Is everything alright?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “But it will be.”

  In an instant she was out of her seat and in my arms, her mouth pressed hotly against mine. I wasn’t ready for her attack, so I almost fell backward. Gripping her shoulders, I tried to brace myself, but she held on to me for dear life.

  She kissed me hard.

  But not with passion.

  No. Her kiss tasted like fear.

  So, I kissed her back hard enough to gain the upper hand then slowly retreated my mouth so that I could nibble on her lower lip. When she let out a whimper, I rained soft kisses on her cheeks and finally her forehead then pulled her in against my chest. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  “No.” She shivered. “I can’t. It’s just… maybe one day, but that day isn’t today. One day I’ll be brave enough to throw all those masks at your feet. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

  “Kissing me won’t make it go away.” I sighed. “Not that I’m complaining at all about your methods.”

  She sighed, her hands wrapped tightly around my waist. “I’m sorry. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Kissing…” I pulled back and gave her a soft smile. “…is always a good idea.”

  She flushed. “I should probably go to my next class.”

  “You can open it.” I nodded to the envelope. “Now that the classroom is empty.”

  A look of pure joy crossed her face before she reached for the envelope and tore it open.

  The key dropped out with a note taped to it.

  “From Anonymous,” she read aloud. “Hmm… wonder who that is?”

  “No clue,” I said seriously. “Some people like to keep their identity a secret just in case the gift receiver isn’t happy with the gift.”

  “So, a key?” She lifted it into the air. “Is my gift?”

  “Let’s just say the experience is the gift.” I shrugged, hoping she would get the hint not to make a big deal. ‘Then again, if buying you a car gets me in your good graces, I’m all for it.”

  “A car?”

  “Look closer.”

  She brought the key closer to her face and squinted at it. “Holy…” Her eyes flashed to mine, filled with a hundred questions.

  “Vroom, vroom?” I smiled and leaned closer. “Oh, and you’re going to love this part.”

  “What part?”

  “The shopping, of course.” I grinned, satisfied with her stunned expression. “Now get to class. I’ll text you later.”

  “But—”

  “You know how I feel about being late.”

  Rolling her eyes, she put the key in her back pocket grabbed her bag then reached up and kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks for the surprise.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.”

  She laughed softly and damn-near skipped out of the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “I have a secret,” I mused, drawing circles in my journal, feeling marginally better since my asshole of a father had given me more pills. “Wanna know?”

  “What?” Mel asked, her expression shuttered.

  “I’m going to die.” I shrugged. “Just thought you should know, since it’s going to be your fault.” I held up a piece of fruit. “Hungry?” —The Journal of Taylor B.

  Lisa

  I THINK IN ALL my twenty-one years of living, I’d skipped once, maybe twice. And both times I was probably in pigtails. But he made me want to skip. A Ferrari? I knew he was extravagant, a bit crazy, but I felt… special, like he’d really listened to me.

  By the time I skipped back into my apartment, the easy, happy-go-lucky feeling was gone.

  Both Wes and Gabe were waiting inside, sitting on the couch, looking pissed.

  “Is, uh, everything okay?” I dropped my bag onto the floor and crossed the room.

  Gabe looked up first, his eyes menacing. Wes put a hand on his shoulder as if to keep him from lunging at me.

  “Is everything okay?” Gabe asked then turned to Wes. “Oh, I don’t know, what do you think Wes? Do I look okay? Does it look like sunshine’s sprouting out of my ass?”

  “I’m not looking at your ass.” Wes rolled his eyes. “And stop being so dramatic.”

  Gabe’s nostrils flared, and he locked his eyes on me. “Your professor.”

  “Which one?” I bit my lower lip and stood behind a chair, just in case I needed to throw it down and run away while Gabe tried to tackle me to the floor.

  “Ha!” Gabe clapped slowly. “Hilarious. Which one, which one, which freaking professor? I seriously can’t have kids, man.” He looked at Wes again. “No seriously, if girls are going to pull this type of shit, I’m out. Give me boys, you hear that, God?” He started pointing at the ceiling. “I know you can hear me because you saved Wes’s life, so listen up, no girls! NO girls!”

  I looked over at Wes and raised an eyebrow. “Is he losing his mind?”

  Wes groaned into his hands while Gabe shot to his feet and charged toward me. “Making out with your professor on school property in your dorm? Tell me you aren’t that stupid!”

  “I’m not…” I swallowed and averted my eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

  “I’m not calling you stupid.”

  “You’re accusing me,” I snapped and pushed against his chest. “Same thing.”

  “Mel, swear to all that is holy if this has gotten any further—” Cursing under his breath, he turned away and tugged at pieces of his blond hair.

  Gabe only called me Mel when he was pissed or when he forgot that I was supposed to be Lisa. He knew it made me insecure and upset. He knew the name brought back too many horrible memories.

&
nbsp; Sighing heavily, Wes stood and marched over to Gabe then shoved him toward the couch. He roughly pushed him down.

  “Okay…” Wes’s eyes were wide. “Let’s try this my way before Gabe has an aneurism.” He tilted his head to the side and flashed his typical Wes Michels’ I-can-get-anything-I-want smile. “I thought you and my friend were just… friends, especially after discovering each other’s identity. I mean… it’s not like I threatened him or anything, but I did tell him that dating a student would be a bit frowned upon.”

  “We aren’t dating.”

  “Shit.” Gabe whistled. “He’s dead. I’m calling in a favor. Wes, I’m sorry, but we’re killing your friend. Clearly he’s seducing her!”

  Wes rolled his eyes. “Watch the footage again. I think you’d be surprised who seduces whom.”

  I felt my cheeks blush, and then anger boiled up inside. I’d forgotten those damn cameras. “What the hell, Gabe! You were watching the tapes? Like a psychopath? And why come to me now, guns blazing! You should have called or something!” Security footage? My stomach heaved at the thought of Gabe and Wes watching me make out with Tristan like some horny teenager. Pretty sure at one point, I was straddling him, or was he on top of me? I was going to start sweating any minute. Heat blasted into my cheeks as I tried to recall just exactly what had happened.

  “Wes had a game,” Gabe said through clenched teeth, interrupting my thoughts. “And I was in Portland at a freaking meeting. Believe me when I say I came as soon as I saw the…” He shook his head. “…whatever. It’s like you don’t care that I’m the only person who’s protecting you from crazy stalkers and would-be assassins!”

  “Assassins?” Wes repeated, his lips forming a smirk. “Good one.”

  “You know what I mean.” Gave waved him off. “And it’s not like I put one in your bathroom. I’m not that much of a paranoid control-freak. You know they’ve been on. You knew about them, Lisa. Hell, you saw them get installed. Why are you so surprised I’m checking up on you? It’s not like I can move in and sit at your door with a gun!”

  “Though, he would if he could.” Wes nodded. “Just saying.”

  “Ass,” Gabe said hoarsely. “You’re supposed to be helping.”

  “This is me helping.” Wes shrugged and faced me again. “Look, it’s not a good idea. You and him…” He lifted his hands in the air and pushed them together and apart and then shook his head and walked off. “Just kidding. I’m not helping. Gabe, you’re up.”

  Gabe shot from his chair. “What Wes is trying to say is sleeping with the faculty, though guaranteed to give you an A, isn’t the way to start your sophomore year if you plan on graduating or keeping the guy from getting fired. Besides, his father would freak if he knew—”

  I reared back, colliding with the chair behind me and then the table. The candles flipped out of their holders, rolled off the table, and hit the floor with a bang.

  Tears threatened to escape.

  “Aw, shit.” Gabe reached for me. “I didn’t mean that, Lisa. You’re fine. It’s not you.”

  “But it is.” I nodded as a lone tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. “Isn’t it? If his dad or family find out he’s dating a girl who’s to blame for someone killing himself… what then? Right? If they find out that the girl was involved in one of the biggest bullying sites on the Internet? If they find out a girl like me was freaking raped in one of those videos! But the video made it look like I asked for it? What would he do? Fourth in line for president! Right, gotcha, I need to stay away because I’m a disease, and it’s only a matter of time before I spread.”

  Wes and Gabe both fell silent as more tears streamed down my face.

  A soft knock sounded at the door.

  I stomped over and yanked it open. My jaw dropped as I came face to face with Tristan. He stared at me for a split second then pressed his lips into a hard line and pulled me in for a hug.

  Warmth surrounded me as I returned the hug, pressing my face against his firm chest.

  He nudged me into the room and kicked the door shut. When I pulled back, his gaze was murderous, though not directed at me, but Gabe and Wes. With a curse, he lifted his hands and wiped some of the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. His jaw flexed as he shook his head and then narrowed his eyes at the guys.

  “What’s going on?” His voice was hard and even.

  “You tell me.” Gabe crossed his arms.

  I stayed in Tristan’s embrace. I felt dirty, used, spoiled, like I wasn’t even good enough to fight for. It was stupid for them to argue because, in the end, Gabe had been right. I know he hadn’t intentionally tried to hurt me, but hurt me he had, because he’d reminded me of what Taylor had told me right before he died.

  “You’re used goods. Trash. You think a guy would touch you if he knew the things you’ve done with me? You think a good guy would even kiss those dirty lips of yours? I own you. Body and soul. You’re bad, like me, and the worst part is, you won’t even own up to it… at least I do. At least I know I’m bad.”

  I hugged Tristan tighter, turning my face into his chest. I listened to the rapid beating of his heart and tried to match my breathing to the thump, even though with each second it was increasing.

  Wes spoke up first. “We put cameras in the room… for her safety.”

  Tristan tensed and then swore under his breath. “And you saw us kissing?”

  Gabe’s voice cracked. “Yeah, we watched the PG-13 pizza party without sound, though, so don’t get too pissed off.”

  “So…” I glanced up just as Tristan’s jaw clenched. “…let me get this straight. You decided to confront Lisa, by herself, without anyone to defend her, especially the guy who was just as guilty, and then made her cry, thinking that would actually help your case?”

  Gabe closed his eyes and sighed. “I hate Lisa’s tears. She should know that by now. I live for her smiles. That’s it. I love her. She’s like a sister to me… I’m protective, yes, but she’s been getting threats.”

  “Threats?” Tristan repeated, his face falling. “You mentioned something about threats at the benefit, and she did get attacked.”

  “She hides them from me.”

  “I’m right here!” I snapped, irritated that even Tristan was stepping into protective mode yet wasn’t even asking me how I felt about three men charging around my room stomping and roaring.

  Gabe kept talking. “But I’m not stupid. She gets them in her mailbox, switches mailboxes, but they keep coming. Her dorm’s been broken into and the website—”

  “Gabe, that’s enough!” I shouted. “Just leave it!”

  “Website?” Tristan repeated in a low, intense voice. He settled his stare on me. “What website?”

  “Gabe!” I begged, breaking free of Tristan’s hold and running across the room. He didn’t know what I’d just found on that site, and he was about to reveal it to the one guy I liked. “Please, please don’t, please.” I clawed at Gabe’s chest, pulled at his shirt, trying to get him to look at me so he could see the absolute terror on my face. When he finally made eye contact, I knew it was pointless.

  His eyes were sad, heavy with guilt. “Lisa, he has to know. If he’s invested, he has to know. If he isn’t… then he isn’t worth your time.”

  My body began to shake… he would know. He would know everything, and he’d leave before I ever got the chance to kiss him again or feel his protective arms around me once more time. He’d been the only guy in years I could kiss without feeling sick to my stomach, the only one who had challenged the old me and the new me. Gabe was taking that away from me.

  The thing about your past… it never stays there. We just think it does until the time comes for it to reveal itself in all its gory shame. And there’s nothing, absolutely nothing a person can do, but watch.

  The world turned to slow motion for me when Gabe walked over to the computer and started typing. My body felt too heavy; my head pounded as blood rushed to my temples. The website would still be saved in m
y search history, because I’d been looking at it last night.

  He must have noticed because he cursed under his breath. I knew the rules, knew Gabe didn’t like me digging up my past ghosts. When the webpage popped up, I groaned, swaying on my feet.

  Tristan was at my side immediately, tugging me toward the monitor, toward the sickness. I watched, like I wasn’t actually part of the nightmare in front of me. When Gabe clicked on the video, I almost puked. And when the talking began, when I heard Taylor’s voice, I finally caved.

  I burst into tears, ran into the bathroom, and lost everything I’d eaten that day and then some. When my stomach was empty, I lay down on the cold floor and sobbed.

  All good things… really do come to an end, don’t they?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I truly believe all good plans take time and strategy… this will be my last entry. If you’re reading this, know that you were chosen for a reason beyond getting insight into the mind of a madman. I chose you. I chose you just like I chose her. I bet you’re curious. I bet you wish you knew why I chose you. Two copies of this journal exist in the world. You have one, and another chosen person has the other. You should thank me, for allowing you to see part of my plan, for allowing you to see what others can only dream about. Don’t worry… we’ll meet again, even if it’s just in your nightmares. –Final Entry — Taylor B.

  Tristan

  I WAS BATTLING between chasing after Lisa and listening to what Gabe had to say, because he had the look of a guy trying to help… or maybe he just looked helpless. But I knew enough about him, about Wes especially, that they would never hurt their friend intentionally. And I had a sinking feeling in my gut that this had everything to do with Lisa’s past.