by H. Q. Frost
"No." She laughed.
"You know him?" Justin quietly asked her.
"Yeah. He's up here a lot. Plays at the Y a few times a week. I—"
"Alright." Justin put his hand out, not caring. "What're you drinking?" He felt obligated to buy her a drink.
"Well if you're buying I'll get something fancy."
Trent went around to her other side. "Where you been?" He pulled the front of her shirt open and looked down.
"Stop." She laughed slapping his hand.
"Let me see." He kept trying to pull her shirt open and she kept laughing, slapping his hand away.
To hide his growing anger Justin had to turn away but Maria seemed to be liking the negative attention.
"You're such a dirty whore," Trent teased her and she kept giggling.
Justin stood, having to go outside to keep from hitting him.
"What the shit, J Borg. You got a tiny girl bladder," Big D chastised.
Justin paced a little, taking in a few deep breaths.
"What's up, man?"
"In a minute I'm going to drag the fucker out here. Just fucking be
ready," Justin said going back in before Abner could stop him.
Justin's phone beeped as he walked back to his seat. He opened the picture from Lilith, it was a picture of the kitten chasing a ball. He smirked but heard Maria yelp out. Just as he looked up Trent was letting her wrist go and she grabbed her arm, pulling it to her chest, softly rubbing with her other hand.
"You alright?" Justin asked; Trent had already joined
his friends again.
"Fine."
He could tell she was fighting back tears. "That guy hurt you?"
"No." She forced a smile. "He was just playing around. Hey." She got off the stool and grabbed her purse. "I'm not feeling too good, I'm just gonna head home, okay? Meet up Saturday?"
"Yeah. If you need me to move my car—"
"No, it's okay." She touched his leg. "Bye."
He stared at her as she walked out the back door and his fists curled with the need to hit something, preferably Trent.
Kurt was still chumming it up with Trent and his friends and Justin tightly gripped his beer taking a drink.
"'Ey." Trent quickly approached. "Where'd the fat bitch go?" he asked looking around.
Justin rubbed his eyebrow, fighting back the
urge to jump him. "Not sure." He shrugged.
"Fuckin' cunts, man. Know what I mean? Fat bitches are always the loudest though. Cushy Pussies." He grinned, putting his arm around Justin's shoulder.
"Yeah, man." Justin's knuckles were white around the bottle and Kurt was waiting for it to shatter in his hand.
"Another beer?" Kurt asked, snatching the bottle from him. "Trent?"
"I'm good. I'm gonna chase some cushy pussy." Trent laughed again, removing his arm from Justin.
He turned to go out the front and Justin stopped him. "Hey, man, she went that way. I think she got a phone call so she stepped outside." He pointed out the back door.
"Know how to get a girl off the phone?" Trent grinned. "Shove your dick in her mouth."
His friends laughed, Kurt and Justin joined to play along, then Justin watched Trent wander down the hallway.
"Music?" Justin asked the bartender.
"Yeah." She handed him her phone that was plugged into a system at the end of the bar.
Justin quickly grabbed it and put on the first thing he
scrolled to and turned it up. Pop music blared over the speakers and the guys
started to make fun of him.
"I like this song," he lied with a laugh.
At least ten minutes passed before he decided to go out back to find Trent.
"I gotta piss," he mumbled standing.
"Again?" Kurt blurted knowing Justin was going out there to probably finish the guy off if he wasn't dead already.
"I've had four beers."
"And three shots." The bartender smiled and winked at him.
"And three shots." Justin pointed to her and smiled.
"'Ey, man, 'ey. Watch where you're pissin'. Trent's probably out there givin' it to that chubby." Trent's friend said and they all started to laugh, again Kurt and Justin joined in for show.
"You guys are so immature," the blonde huffed walking into the back.
"You about ready?" Kurt asked Justin, wanting him to get the hell out of there.
"Yeah, let me piss first."
"You can't hold it?" Kurt bitched.
"Man, fuck off." Justin pushed his hand away and headed down the hallway.
He pushed open the door and stepped into the alley. Looking right, he saw they dragged Trent farther away from the door. Abner kicked Trent in the face as he lay on the ground lifeless. Trent's body contorted unnaturally and Justin jogged over to them.
"Fucker cut me!" Abner snarled holding his arm.
"Holy fuck," Justin muttered looking at Trent's bloodied body.
He couldn't make out anything. Trent was a mess of blood and mangled flesh. Pulling Trent's wallet from his
pocket Justin tossed it to Kyle.
"Get the fuck out of here!" he yelled at them and bent, picking up the knife Trent stabbed Abner with. Unknowingly to Justin, it was the same knife he threatened Lilith with.
Justin wiped the blade on his pants, both sides. Big D, Kyle, and Abner ran to the mouth of the alley to the street where their car was parked at Maria's. When they got to the street they stopped running and walked calmly but briskly.
Justin picked up Trent's lifeless body not knowing if he was unconscious or dead. Dragging him toward the back door of the bar, Trent made a quiet groaning noise. The only thought in his mind was to get rid of the scum and without forethought Justin palmed the knife and shoved it into Trent's side. The briefest noise escaped Trent's lips before he fell heavy again. Leaving the knife in his side Justin pushed him against the building, holding him up with his forearm. He pushed his hand up his shirt and wiped his bloody fingerprints off the knife handle before quickly slinging Trent's arm around his neck and pulling
him through the door.
"Hey!" Justin screamed as he opened the door. "Fucking call the cops!"
Kurt was the first at the end of the hallway. "What the fuck!" he yelled and the bar went silent.
"Call the fucking cops." Justin was serious.
He didn't know what possessed him to stab the guy. He'd never had the urge to actually kill someone. Even out of all the fights he'd been in he never wanted anyone dead.
One of Trent's friends came to the mouth of the hallway as Justin dragged Trent's body farther into the bar.
"Oh! What the fuck, man!" the friend screamed.
"He was down the alley," Justin panted, carefully laying Trent on the ground. "Some guys." Justin stopped to catch his breath, partially acting, partially winded from carrying one hundred and eighty pounds of dead weight that was much taller than him. "Some guys were beating the shit out of him. Did someone call the cops!" he screamed angrily.
"I called them!" the bartender bellowed out frantically.
"Give him room to breath." Justin pushed Trent’s
friends back. "Fuck." He played it up.
"What happened?" His friend angrily hopped around.
"I don't fucking know. I went out to fucking piss. I saw some guys had jumped someone. I didn't know it was him!" Justin pushed his bloodied hands into his hair. He was no longer acting, he was worried that if the beating didn't kill Trent, the knife wound would. "They ran." Justin leaned against the bar. "They fuckin' ran north." He was hunched on the bar with his hands pushed into his hair.
They heard the sirens then minutes later paramedics ran in followed by firefighters and police. Kurt was at the back of the bar. After he saw the state Trent was in he was scared. No one had even noticed Trent was stabbed and Justin didn't say anything about it. He was pulled to the side by an officer after one of the friends said he was the one to find Trent. Justin told them exa
ctly what he told Trent's friends and he didn't offer any more information. He couldn't, he was too distressed from what he did. Everyone was questioned and no one pointed a finger at Justin. He wasn't out there long enough for it to be him. Justin knew if Trent did pull through there was a possibility he'd be able to finger him as the stabber.
"Hey, man." Justin stopped one of Trent's friends. "I hope he's alright."
"Thanks. So fucked up. Was that girl out there?"
"Nah." Justin glanced around. "Maybe she ran off. Maybe your friend was trying to protect her."
"No. That's not Trent. I heard the cop say his wallet was missing. I'm just hopin' those dudes didn't do something to the girl."
"Yeah. That's so fucked up."
"When he pulls through I'll be sure to tell him you're the reason. What's your name?"
"Jason." Justin shook his waiting hand.
"Thanks a lot, man. He'da probably died out there."
"Good luck." Justin started to walk toward Kurt who was bouncing with his hands in his pockets.
"Come on, man! Fucking news crew and shit," he grumbled.
They got into Justin's jeep, neither speaking a word until he pulled in front of the tattoo parlor.
"You wanna come up, man?" Kurt asked.
"No, I gotta get home." Justin's tone was quiet and Kurt knew something was up.
"You didn't get on any of those news reports, right?"
"No, don't think so. I avoided them but there were cameras fucking everywhere," Justin breathed.
Kurt looked over seeing how despondent he looked. "This was what you wanted, right?"
Justin guiltily looked at him and whispered, "I stabbed him, man." He was shaking and the beat of his heart felt like it could race to explosive throbs.
Kurt fell silent a few minutes but the fear was all over his face. "With what?"
"His knife. He cut Abner."
"Dude, Abner's blood is on that fucking knife!"
"I wiped it." Justin's voice was shaking and that alone was scaring Kurt. He wasn't used to the behavior of fear from Justin.
"Fuck that guy, man. He raped El, he beat the hell out of her. Fuck that fucker. He deserves everything he got." Kurt touched Justin's shoulder and Justin nodded.
"I gotta get home."
Justin walked through the door looking at his bloody hands. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and El had sent a few more pictures, but he couldn't open them yet.
Walking into his room, he turned on the TV for the twelve o'clock news. After undressing he walked his clothes into the laundry room, putting them immediately into the wash. When he entered his room again the incident was on the TV and he caught the end.
"…and he's listed in critical condition." The cameras cut from the bar back to the newsroom.
"Well let's hope he pulls through," the female news reporter said. "He's a very respected med student and his father, Stephen Nuyhu, is a professor at Chicago University and a surgeon for Chicago General."
"Sad story." The male reporter shook his head in pity for a man he didn't have a clue about.
Justin turned the TV off and sat on his bed.
Stephen Nuyhu was the surgeon that saved his life. Sliding to the floor tears broke through. He wasn't upset about who Trent's father was, he was upset he possibly killed a man.
"Holy fucking shit." He cried. "Holy shit."
His phone started to ring startling him. He hadn't read Lilith's texts and she was either calling to say goodnight or check up on him because he hadn't been responding. He couldn't answer, he was crying, she'd hear it.
"Fuck!" He stammered to his feet and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom.
The pink water that washed off him only made things worse. He kept thinking about what Kurt told him, 'He raped El. He beat the hell out of her'. Forcing himself to remember what Lilith looked like when she fell into his office that day helped.
He wanted to be with her, she was the only thing that could ease him to sleep, but there was no way in hell he could even call her.
In the morning he was so distressed he worked out even though he hadn't been cleared for it yet. After an intense workout that caused him pain he lay on the floor of his home gym unable to move for a few minutes. In the shower he vigorously scrubbed under hot water.
Lilith had called him at seven that morning and sent a text.
EL: B I'm worried about you. Please call me
He pushed his hair back as he walked out of the house, slightly limping from his side pain due to the vigorous workout.
"Justin," Lilith answered with clear annoyance.
"Good morning, gorgeous."
"What the heck, Justin!" she snapped.
"I'm sorry, ZP, I—" He stopped, he didn't know what to tell her, not sure if she saw the news. "You still want breakfast, beautiful?"
"I ate, Justin." She huffed. "Where were
you?" She was worried maybe he was off with another client similar to Rayne Bronson.
"Me and Kurt met up for a drink last night and I passed out, El. I'm sorry. Are you at work? Can I come see you?"
"I have a meeting at nine."
"With who?" he snapped and she furrowed her brow.
"Corgy Popper."
"With Ian, right? He'll be there too?"
"Yes. If you're gonna come see me it better be soon."
"Coffee?"
"Caramel Brulée Latte. Tash, want a coffee?"
"Hazelnut Macchiato please."
"Did you hear her?" Lilith grinned into the phone.
"Yeah I did, princess. I can't wait to see you."
"Hey, B," she softly said and his heart stopped because of her skeptical tone. "Will you bring Ian Clover Coffee?"
"Extra spit?"
"B." She rolled her eyes.
"I'll see you soon, ZP."
"Bye." She grinned hanging up.
He walked into the lobby and placed a small coffee in front of Veronica. "Good morning." His charming smile made her blush.
"Thank you, Mr. Borg."
He pointed at her as he headed for the hall.
"Justin!" she quickly corrected herself.
Entering Lilith's office, he smiled. "Morning, Tash."
"Good morning. Thank you."
"Beautiful." He bent and kissed Lilith quickly. "I'm gonna bring this to Jacks. I pissed in it, don't want you to get it on you." He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes.
"Good morning." She feigned annoyance.
"Good morning, Zombie Princess. You look exceptionally radiant today. Have I told you how much I like you with black hair?" Standing in her doorway he winked at her.
"I don't think you have." She grinned at him.
"Oh, I think I have. I'll be right back."
Tash giggled when he walked away and Lilith tossed a pen at her. "Shut up."
Justin walked into Ian's office to him on the phone. Quickly closing the door he put the coffee in front of him and sat, snapping his fingers. Ian put his finger up and Justin mimicked hanging up a phone; Ian kept his finger up.
"I'm just gonna fucking hang up. That's it, I'm hanging up." Justin reached for the phone.
"Alright, ma, I'll talk to you later." Ian scowled at Justin. "Yeah, I'll tell her you love her but not me. I get it." Ian laughed. "I'm kidding. Gotta go." Ian hung up the phone and looked at the coffee. "What'd you do to it?"
"Dick warmer. Dude, did you catch the news?"
"No, why?" Ian removed the lid to the coffee cup. "Oh shit, how'd last night go?" he lowered his voice.
"Yeah, that's where the news comes into play. For one, his dad was the surgeon that saved my life—"
"You beat up the wrong asshole then." Ian grinned.
"Shit got bad, Jacks," Justin whispered leaning closer to the desk and glancing at the door. "My guys beat the fuck out of him, bad, bad."
"Good. He's not dead?"
"Possibly."
Ian stopped from taking a drink and his eyes widened. "You fuckin' serious?" He s
et the coffee down.
Justin put his head in his hand leaning on Ian's desk for a minute. "I couldn't make out his face. They beat the shit out of him." He sat back. "He cut one of my friends." His gaze slowly moved from Ian to the coffee. "The knife was laying there next to his body and I pulled the fucker to the door—"
"Where'd you do all this? Where'd this happen?"
"A bar on Dearborn. The alley. I fucking stabbed him, Jacks. I put his own knife into his side. I fucking stabbed him." Not wanting Ian to see his internal break down, he kept distress from his face.
Ian stared back then looked at the coffee and picked it up taking a sip. "Awe, you do love me. You got my favorite."
"Jacks!" Justin bellowed and stood, unable to mask his fear any longer.
"Chill out, dude. Did you talk to the cops?"
"Yeah."
"And are you a suspect?"
"No, I'm a fuckin' hero for finding the cunt."
"Good for you. You want to high five? Shake? Hug?"
"I don't want to have the guilt of killing a man on my conscience."
"He could have killed Lily," Ian snarled. "He raped her. He beat her. He could have fucking killed her, Borg." He slammed his hands onto the desk while standing. "He took a piece of that girl that she will never get back. She can't take a shit unless I'm standing outside the fucking door and she calls my name every few seconds."
"I know, I know." Justin huffed.
"The son of a bitch didn't get half of what he deserved. He should have been tortured beyond an ass beating and being stabbed. While you're worried about some cock sucker that doesn't deserve to breathe Chicago air I'm going to be picking up the pieces of my shattered wife."
"You didn't fucking kill a man, Jacks," Justin growled.
"And I commend you for getting that trash off the street. The same trash that raped our Lily. Don't worry about Aaron Teppert, I'll take care of him on my own so you don't feel despair about defending your girlfriend."
"Fuck you, Jacks."
"No, Justin, fuck you. I see where your loyalty lies. It's not with someone that loves you for some ungodly reason, it's with trash like Aaron Teppert and his scum friends. Do me a favor and reevaluate everything before you suck Lily further into your fucked up universe."
"How do you think Lily would feel about me killing him?" Justin snarled, charging his desk. "If she finds out I killed him—"