Jaded

by Tijan

  Corrigan glanced at the screens and remarked, "Too bad you didn't put any videos in the rooms. We'd get some great porn right now."

  My insides cringed, but I teased, "Already resorting to porn, Corrigan? She just left."

  Bryce suddenly shot up from the couch and strode towards the computer keyboard that manually controlled the video output.

  "What are you doing?" I asked and moved behind him.

  "The guys were…just before I got punched the tech guy was telling me that it was weird because there was already a feed going on in the house. I didn't think about until…"

  "They didn't say anything," Corrigan spoke up. "I told them just to fix the video where you told them and not worry about it."

  "Yeah, but," Bryce frowned. His fingers went to work on the keyboard.

  I asked, "What are you doing?"

  "Are you a geek?" Corrigan asked.

  Bryce rolled his eyes. "Luca has a thing for this stuff. Playing one on one with him—he tends to ramble about this stuff. I've picked up some of it after shooting hoops with my brother for years."

  I arched an eyebrow. "That's a nice skill to suddenly come in handy right now."

  "Shut up," Bryce snapped.

  I grinned.

  "Seriously." Corrigan shifted closer. "What are you doing?"

  "The other feed is bothering me. It could've been the other alarm system. They didn't remove it. I told them just to use the old wires, because they were already there, but…what if…"

  He hit a last button and my eyes filled in horror.

  Bryce finished, numbly, "What if…an alarm system wasn't installed the last time…"

  My insides hurled as I saw images of myself on the computer screens. In the shower. On the couch. In bed, sleeping…and…my eyes fixed on the bottom screen where Bryce pistoned into me. We were both grasping the bed in desperation and instead of the remembered passion from that night, disgust rolled over me in waves.

  "That's the night…"I swallowed, but forced myself to finish, "That's the night…"

  Bryce finished my thought, "…of the candlelight vigil."

  Chapter 27

  I shot to the bathroom and emptied my stomach that had been filled with nothing. I stayed there, even after a tentative knock sounded at the door. Someone shuffled in, saw my ashen features through their drunken glaze and shuffled back out.

  I held onto the toilet and rested my forehead against my arm.

  I don't know how long I stayed there, but it was long enough for Bryce to have regained control over himself. Or—that's what I assumed when he entered the bathroom, silently locked the door, and curled around me. He rested his arms on both sides of me and dipped his forehead against my back.

  Neither of us said a word, but the images flashed through me. I saw every single time where I had thought my home was private, where I was alone. And everytime my stomach rolled from the violation.

  "Did…," my voice cracked. "Did you guys stop the feeds?"

  Bryce heaved a deep breath and said, "No."

  It took me another moment before I was able to formulate a rational response, but I asked, "Why not?"

  "Because…" I wasn't the only one fighting for composure. Bryce trembled, just barely, but he managed out, "Corrigan called Hoodum. He's got a technical guy that might be able to follow this feed to wherever it's going."

  My throat dried.

  "Are you saying…this stuff could get leaked to Hoodum?" I asked.

  "No. Hoodum won't do anything with it. Corrigan will make sure and Hoodum's already agreed. The guy's supposed to just follow it back to where it's transferring somewhere and that's it. He's supposed to find the address and hand it over."

  "How can we be sure? Not a lot of trust going on with me."

  "Because…we don't know, but we both know that Corrigan will kill Hoodum if this is leaked."

  I rested my forehead on my arm and Bryce scooted closer behind me. His arms tightened and he rested his head in the crook of my shoulder. I felt him breath my neck when he murmured, "He's gonna fry. You know that."

  I sighed, but it didn't help.

  "He's already seen…" So much. Too much. "Can…" A worse thought came to mind. "…was there sound?"

  "No," Bryce whispered in my ear.

  So he didn't hear everything, not everything…

  "God," I choked out again.

  Bryce took a deep breath, "If…"

  "Don't!" I said sharply and shoved him off. I stood up, suddenly fed up with feeling the victim. "I want to know who this guy is and I'm going to kill him before the police get here."

  Bryce stood, slowly, and watched me tentatively. Cautious. He reminded me, "They are parked outside."

  "I know." We'd just have to get around it.

  I led the way back into the small room and saw Corrigan bent over the computer keyboard with another guy speedily punching the buttons. Both of them glanced up, caught our gaze, froze for a moment, and then returned to their work. I stood in front of the screens and watched. I wanted each image branded into me. I wanted to see what he'd done to me when I was going to do what I needed to do, to him.

  Bryce kept his eyes on me, but he circled beside Corrigan.

  Both glanced every now and then to me, but they always shifted back to the tech's heart-pounding race to trail the feed before any more damage was done.

  I glanced around and spotted the remote. Lifting it up, I changed the channels. More and more images replaced the ones already there of me. They were all of me, at different times. I was just dressing in one. Another—I was putting make-up on. A third, I was just sitting on the couch, staring at nothing. And then…Bryce and I were in the shower. I was straddling Bryce. Bryce was on top of me, behind me. Sometimes we were wrapped around each other, talking, laughing, or arguing. One screen was of us fighting. No words were heard, but it was evident. It started, we fought, and then it replayed immediately so just our fight was being watched.

  And still…I changed the channels again.

  This time, one screen was Bryce and myself again, but Bryce reached inside my nightstand and froze. I looked puzzled and the shot repeated to the beginning where we were kissing, starting to undress, and Bryce would always reach for the condom, but freeze as his hand found the gun instead. The screen image never let the gun be shown.

  And then…I must've made a sound because Bryce and Corrigan both looked over, saw my eyes riveted, and trailed to a camera that had been placed in the garage. I was pressed against the wall by Denton. The camera saw everything. Denton's jeans sagged, the thrusting, how I gasped against the quick onslaught, and then how Denton helped me finish. Just as the door closed behind him when he left, the image repeated again for us to watch the entire thing over and over again.

  Bryce clenched his jaw, but turned back and snapped at the tech. to finish working.

  I met Corrigan's gaze and saw sympathy in that moment. Any other time, any other person, I would've lashed at them. I didn't need anyone's sympathy, but it was Corrigan. The sympathy was replaced with a hardening and I knew Corrigan wanted to beat this guy just as much as myself and Bryce.

  I left suddenly, ignored the sudden calls from Bryce and Corrigan and swept into my room.

  I hurried to my nightstand, reached inside, and heaved a breath of relief as my fingers found the cold metal of the Colt.45.

  Instead of leaving it, I tucked it into my pants and left again.

  This time, I moved through the house and headed towards the garage.

  A few of the guys tried to stop me, but I ignored them like I'd ignored Bryce and Corrigan. As I cleared the garage, Yerling, Mena, and a few other straightened abruptly at my sudden appearance.

  Mena remained quiet, but Yerling smiled, smug, and threw the first taunt. "Come to beg, Sheldon?"

  "Come to die, Yerling?" I threw back.

  The frown was there, slightly, but it was replaced with malicious amusement and then…just wariness.

  I tilted my head and moc
ked, cruelly, "This isn't the Yerling that promised me it'd be you and me one of these nights." I moved closer and pressed, taunting, "What happened to that brave little boy? Did he get beat up one too many times? Does he no longer have some balls? Or maybe you do, maybe you're the one who's doing all of this?" I wanted that. I wanted him right in front of me. I wanted a target, finally.

  "You might want to watch it," Yerling flashed a growl, but shook his head and moved a step back.

  Mena stood just at my right, so I attacked her instead, "What happened to you? It seemed like you turned crazy overnight."

  Mena smiled sadly and remarked, "You know, I actually just wanted to be your friend." Mena added, not unkind, "That's all I really wanted, but…I learned my lesson. We all learned our lesson not to mess with you, Corrigan, and Bryce. You guys don't need anyone else, just each other. It's…sad, really."

  Everything she said wasn't untrue.

  "Bryce didn't like me from the start because I could've been the best friend. I would've taken you away from him—or I'm sure that's what he thought. And you know what pissed me off the most—you liked me, Sheldon. You actually did, but you listened to them even though they were so wrong about me." She finished with a triumphant, bittersweet, arch to her eyebrow, "And you know it."

  "No," I shook my head. "You gave up. That's what you did and then you started hanging out with this crowd. You make it sound like we're the crowned throne that reigns over the entire student body. It's not like that at all."

  "Really?"

  One of Yerling's buddies grew disgusted and snarled, "We didn't come to hash out girlfriend issues. We came to mess up your house, Jeneve."

  He wanted fear, but he got a laugh instead.

  "Seems to be the theme," I said easily. "I already trashed it. Bryce and Corrigan had a go today. You're welcome to it."

  He flashed confusion and Chad chuckled, an ugly sound. He moved forward and remarked, "This is what she does. She plays with your mind, laughs in your face, and then she taunts you with her body."

  I arched an eyebrow, "Really? Did I tease you? Is that why you turned psycho too?"

  "Seems to be the theme," Mena mocked me, twisting my words.

  "For all your show—you're nothing, but a tease, Sheldon. Everyone hates a tease," Chad spoke again.

  He stepped forward again and I cooed, "Oh—you're getting more confident. Now the real Chad is coming back, makes me wonder where you went?"

  "You want to know? You really want to know?" He baited me, ruthlessly, but I didn't care.

  I followed the crumbs and took the hook, "Yeah, Chad, I want to know. It's why I asked."

  "Your boys made it pretty clear that if I ever talked to you again, I'd end up in a body cast instead of a grave."

  That sounded like them.

  I shrugged, "We'll find out, won't we?"

  He barked out a laugh and shook his head in amazement, "I can't believe you. You're outnumbered fifteen to one and you're still flinging insults in our faces. When do you get real?"

  "Are you serious? Do you think you're my big problem?" I threw back, actually enjoying this. "You're nothing. You're just a guy trying to be bigger than who you are. If you were really who you say you are—you wouldn't be crashing a high school party." I stepped back and delivered, cruelly, "How sad is that?"

  Mena finally reared her head and spat out, "I think you're the sad one, Sheldon!"

  "Finally!" I exclaimed with a wide smile. "I'd like to meet the real Mena, not the façade that you've shown me this whole time." I added, "I am not friends with weak people. If you want to be my friend, you have to prove you've got some spine behind you. That's who I am, Mena. I respect nothing less."

  "I am not weak!" Mena cried out with tears that rolled down her face. She hiccupped, "I just…Bryce was so mean. He—,"

  "—because he thinks something's wrong with you!" I shut her up. "Is something wrong with you? Are you fixated on me?"

  The guys held their breaths and it was just me and Mena.

  Mena finally broke when she bit out, "I never knew you could be so vindictive."

  I rolled my eyes and stepped back, suddenly disgusted and tired of weakness.

  Another group of students turned the corner at that moment and I recognized the Barton siblings, alongside Teddy and two other guys. One was Darrell—the kid that Bryce and I had threatened to keep him from ratting on Corrigan. Teddy sent me a tentative grin, but he glanced towards Tim and Grace, who were captivated with Mena in that moment.

  I stepped further back. This was no longer about myself, but Mena.

  "Hi, Mena," Grace said softly with a kind expression.

  Mena saw it, twisted it, and sent it back snarling, "Hi, Gracey."

  Grace caught the infliction of tone and knew it wasn't in warmth. She still held her head high and said calmly, not afflicted, "I was wondering how you were. You haven't returned my phone calls."

  "Are you serious?" Mena laughed, caught my gaze, and stopped short.

  To tell the truth—I was mystified. I watched as Grace smiled, still, and commented, "My mom really liked meeting you. She was wondering if you'd come for dinner Sunday evening?"

  "Are you…demented?" Mena asked harshly.

  Grace still stood before her and replied, "No. We're having spaghetti. I know, I know. It's kinda a lame meal, but I like to stir the noodles. If you come, we could watch a movie afterwards."

  "And brush each other's hair?" Mena taunted.

  "No," Grace said simply. "I know you think I'm a nerd."

  "Mena!" A shout sounded across the yards and Mena groaned.

  Denton darted across the separating lawns, frowning fiercely and he stopped just short of the crowd. Denton's gaze traveled to me, stopped short, and his jaw clenched one more time before he spat out, "We're going, Mena. Now!"

  "No."

  "Yes." And Denton grasped her arm, but she wrenched it away and scurried towards Yerling.

  "No! Go order Kari around. I'm tired of hearing your orders," Mena said hotly.

  "Mena. Now," Denton clipped out.

  "No!"

  "I'm tired of this. If you don't stop it, you'll—"

  "What?" The younger sister cut off her older overpowering brother, defiantly. "What? You'll do what? I'll do what?"

  "You'll go back," he said quietly as the fight left him. "I've done what I could, but you're spiraling out of control again. You're off your—"

  "My psychotic meds?" Mena provided for him, angrily.

  "Where will you go back?" I asked and pushed from the wall. A path cleared for me and Mena bit her lip as she glanced towards me. "Where were you—really?"

  Denton sighed and murmured, "Mena."

  "No!" She said sharply.

  "Mena. Please."

  She abruptly shrieked, "You didn't want me to be friends with her because she was yours! You just didn't want to share her."

  An ugly taste formed in my mouth as I heard her cries as she continued, "I just wanted to be her friend, but you couldn't handle that. And, surprise surprise, when I'm not—you're over here the first chance you got. And you were back here last night. I saw you. You showed up because you're in love with her!"