F*CKER

by Amo Jones

  “Who’s she with?” I asked, anger simmering under my skin.

  “Bro, I don’t—”

  “Who the fuck is she with, Ryder?”

  “Fuck,” he whispered. “Jason Miller.”

  My knuckles clenched, my jaw pressed so hard it was bound to crack.

  “What the fuck, man? You two were never a thing. You were both as crazy as each other, keeping it open for the past six months, so you can’t blame her for it.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I replied hoarsely. “She should have come to me instead of being a fucking ho.”

  We pulled up to the bar, where there was still a large line leading down the street. I already knew they would be inside. Jason Miller is secondhand famous in this town, because of his dad. Everyone knew he was underage, and anyone he would be with was too, but he would have paid enough money to keep them quiet. I walked toward the bouncer, who nodded his head and let us through. No one contested, because they knew who we were. Unlike Jason, we were firsthand famous in this town.

  I pushed open the door, and foam pooled around my feet as the smell of horny fucking beings engulfed my senses. Drowning Pool’s “Bodies” started playing through their sound system as I scanned the crowd, which only intensified my rage.

  Ryder stepped in front of me. “You need to chill, bro. I fucking know you, Ryker, and you’re going to lose your shit the minute you see her. I’ll get her, while you go and sit down.”

  I shook my head and pushed him out of the way. “Fuck off.”

  My eyes continued to scan the area until they fell on Jason, who was grinding and pushing up against a chick. When they turned around and I saw Bryleigh’s face, her long hair matted in sweat and her body pushing against his, grinding to the electric beat with her tiny little skirt and crop top on, blind rage rippled through me. I narrowed my eyes on her, noting how hyper she looked, more than usual. I didn’t question it though; no, there was no way I could care about anything other than the pure fury that had started to pulse through me. Every single inch of my being was consumed by jealousy.

  She was mine.

  Was. Because there’s no way I wanted anything to do with her now. Her body spun around in his grip and her hands explored his chest, hooking around the back of his neck. The way she’d done to me so many times. So many times that I could still almost feel what it felt like to have her smooth hands flex across the back of my neck, scratching as I descended my cock balls-deep into her tight pussy. Pussy that was mine and mine only. That had changed now.

  She stood up on her tiptoes and pulled his face down to hers, a smile spreading across her lips, and fuck if I didn’t want to kill her. When their lips smashed together in a heated kiss, I lost it.

  Shoving Ryder out of my face forcefully, I pushed through the crowd of people, knocking girls out of the way, having them fall flat on their asses and mumble “Asshole” as I walked by.

  When I reached them, Bryleigh’s mouth dropped open in shock from over Jason’s shoulder. I paid her no attention. Gripping onto the back of his collar, I pulled him down, my fist connecting with his face until blood splattered over my shirt like a rain of bad decisions. Pushing Jason down, I continued my assault. Each time my fist connected with his face, a crack would vibrate under my knuckles, with more blood spraying out from him. The metallic tang seized my taste buds, feeding my anger like a cock-thirsty whore at a male brothel. Her hands were around his neck. Gripping my fingers around his throat, I ignored Bryleigh’s yelling from behind me.

  “Ryker!” she screamed. “You’re going to kill him!”

  In one swift move, a set of hands pulled me off him and I swung at Ryder, knocking him flat on his ass before diving back toward Jason and landing one last blow, the sole of my shoe connecting with his face. The crowd dropped to silence. Everything was silent but Bryleigh’s sobs, which reverberated through the atmosphere.

  Tommy pulled me back forcefully, where I dropped to the ground, ass first, my hands coming up to my face.

  “Is he alive?” I whispered, looking toward his motionless body that was lying in a pool of blood in the center of the dance floor.

  For the next ten seconds, my life flashed before my eyes. What I could have had, how I could have been, but Jason was dead, and now, I would have to live with that hovering over my head for the rest of my life. The blood that stained my hands may wash off now, but they’d never wash off my soul.

  I killed someone.

  Panic started to set in as Ryder kneeled down beside me. “I need to call Aunt Corletta. We’re going to need Brennan for this one, I think.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered. The crowd started to descend from the club slowly, the silence deafening to my ears.

  Blood curdling coughing started to erupt from Jason’s throat, and I pushed off the floor to drop down beside him. The crowd started to mumble about how he was alive, and I looked up to Ryder. “Did you call the ambulance?”

  He nodded, bending down beside me with Bryleigh coming toward us. I snapped my head up to her, standing from the floor and squaring my shoulders. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

  “What?” she yelled, narrowing her eyes on me.

  “Fuck. Off,” I growled.

  “That’s not fair! Just because you couldn’t contain your anger.”

  I ignored her and dropped back down to Jason.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. You knocked me out.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re fucked up and it’s all my fault. I’m fucking sorry, man.”

  “Sorry?” he scoffed, bringing his hand up to his bloody head as he tried to get up.

  “Nah, man, stay down. You need to stay down until the medics get here,” I said, holding him down by his shoulder.

  “Cops!” people screamed, and my body tensed. I looked down to Jason. “I’m fucking sorry, man. I fucked up.”

  The cops had me handcuffed the minute they barged into the club, with the medics falling to the ground where Jason was bleeding out. I fucked up. I fucked up big time, and I think that was my deciding factor right there. Bryleigh was toxic for me. I lost my shit around her with anything.

  Some people’s poison was vodka, or whiskey. Mine was Bryleigh Monroe, and she’d fucked with my head good. She’d ride me right, give me the hit I needed, and then anything after that, I would’ve laid my own future down for. And I wanted a fucking future. Us together was way too fucking toxic. I needed to push her away, and I needed to push her away good. My future, my brother’s future, depended on it. I just hoped like fuck that I ruined her enough that she didn’t want to touch another male while I was still breathing, because I’m not sure I could cope with knowing someone else’s name was being screamed out of those lips.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can—” The cops voice faded out as I watched Bryleigh’s shocked expression take hold.

  “I’ll get you out,” she said, walking toward me. The club lights flicked on, showing the makeup running down her face from her tears. I narrowed my eyes on her, and that’s when I noticed how dilated her pupils were. My face stilled, setting into a straight expression while memories of her and Becca coming out of the bathroom together earlier tonight came crashing into me so fast it was like God himself was screaming at me how fucking blinded I had been with this girl. This only helped me, because it was going to mean pushing her away would be that much sweeter. I fucking hated drugs. Hated them with a passion. And to think this girl—who I was pretty sure I was slowly falling for—had shoved a rolled bill up her nose, made me fucking sick to my stomach. I wanted to kill her, and Becca, while Leo watched. I was fucking livid.

  “Get the fuck away from me.” If the dead tone of my voice didn’t give away how far gone she was, the way I dragged my eyes over her ruthlessly, was.

  Her body stilled. “Ryker, you can’t be angry at me. We hadn’t defined anything.”

  “Fuck you. This is more than that.” I ran my eyes down to her nose. “You mean nothing to me. Have all your
shit out of my room before I make bail.”

  She winced. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered, and Becca came up behind her, wrapping her in her arms.

  “Look at you,” I said, boring my eyes into her with as much hatred as I could muster, which wasn’t exactly hard, because in this very moment, I fucking hated this bitch. “I don’t even know who you are anymore. I never wanna see your face ever again.”

  The cop shoved me forward. “Enough teen drama. You’ll be spending the night, Ryker. I’d like to see your aunt get you out of this one.”

  ***

  My aunt would get me out of this one. After I had spent the weekend in jail, she paid my bail and I headed home. Jason didn’t want to press charges, but I was to stay away from him; the restraining order his lawyer summoned me with proved that. My aunt almost sent me to military school, but after sweet talking her, we decided to get me back into Valley High and I started back on Friday. Where I planned to break Bryleigh Monroe so hard she would wish she was dead.

  “Bry?” Indie’s voice broke my deep sleep. The clinking of empty containers sounded from my bedside table and she cursed under her breath.

  “Bryleigh! Wake up! We have to go to school. You’ve spent too many days away, and Mr. Brown loves to ride my ass about it, so. Get. Up!” She pulled the covers off my body and the whip of sudden air whirled over my bare legs. I pushed up off my bed and narrowed my eyes at her. My hair was unkempt, eyes swollen with the stream of tears I had spilled, and my lips were puffy and cracked.

  “Leave me alone, Indie.”

  “No! Get up, this isn’t healthy. You need to get over Ryker, and you need to get over him right now. I have my sister on one side, who is so fucked up she doesn’t even recognize me some days, but my parents don’t give a shit, because you wanna know why? Because they’re hardly home anymore, so they don’t even know how far Becca has fallen, and I can’t do shit about it. And then I come to you and you’re no better! For fuck sake! You will get up, show up, and—God help me woman—if I come back in here and you’re not dressed for school, I will get Matty to carry you in your damn SpongeBob pajamas. Get the fuck up!” Then she spun on her feet and walked toward the door, slamming it behind herself.

  My eyes were heavy from all the crying, but I managed to pull my body off the bed. I guessed a week was long enough to mope. I didn’t understand my feelings. I had no idea I could feel something so deep; I had no idea the human body even had the possibility to hurt this much. All because of love. Well, fuck love. Being a teenager was rough, and I fucking hated it. I pulled down some casual skinny jeans, and a loose T-shirt that was a size too large for me, from my closet before slipping on my Chuck Taylors and running a brush through my matted hair. I peered at myself in the mirror and winced. I didn’t even recognize myself. Ryker was right. Ryker.

  Had I really lost myself so deep in him that I hadn’t even realized it? The words he spat at me stung so bad my mother had to take me to the doctor just so I could get prescribed something to numb the pain long enough to allow sleep. I was a grade-A idiot.

  ***

  We walked down the long halls of Valley High and everyone parted for me, whispering between each other and eyeing me up and down. Some had disgust spread on their faces, while others just laughed.

  Indie paused at one group, placing her hands on her hips. “What the fuck are you staring at? Should I put my fist in your face? Maybe that’ll give you something to stare at.” The group had scattered after her outburst.

  “Just leave it, Indie,” I muttered, pushing my loose long hair out of my face while I popped open my locker. I glanced at myself in the little mirror that sat inside my locker, the pictures of me and Ryker together plastered all over it. One with him lifting me over his shoulders, the day we decided to ditch school and go skinny dipping in the lake. And the other one, when he made me sing Guns N’ Roses’ “Don’t Cry”—he said he had heard me sing it while I was in the shower when we first met—while he played it on the guitar for me. It was beautiful. Epically beautiful. That was a memory I would forever hold. His skilled fingers played through the song as I lost myself in the strum, letting my voice flow out effortlessly. I sung out the entire song. It was the first time I had sung in front of someone before, and the proud look Ryker had at the end pulled at my heart. He quickly snapped a picture with my camera that was sitting on my bed, of us, me tucking my hair behind my ear, smiling shyly while he kissed my cheek.

  Tears streamed down my face as I swallowed past the boulder that had formed in my throat. Indie came around to cover my face so no one could see. When her eyes zoned in on the pictures, she ripped them off my locker, but I quickly snatched them back from her. “Please, just… leave them in here.”

  She hesitated for a second before letting go. “Okay then, babe, if you say so.”

  I slammed the locker door, clutched my books to my chest, and made my way to history. Awesome.

  After a long day of people staring at me, whispering and laughing under their breath, I was relieved to hear the lunch bell sound. Pushing my chair back, I walked toward the cafeteria, where I was planning on meeting Indie at the table we always sat at. As I pushed through the opening cafeteria doors, the entire room fell silent. My eyebrows pulled together as I looked around for Indie. She saw me and pushed off her chair, making her way over with a worried look on her face. She reached me, gripping my arm and spinning me around before hauling me out.

  “What’s going on with everyone today?” I asked, as she continued to pull me toward the girls’ bathroom.

  “We need to talk.”

  “What’s going on?” I repeated, following her face as we pushed through the doors.

  She checked each stall was empty before running her hands over her face. “Ryker is back, and boy has he made some entrance.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, panic setting into my chest. My palms began to sweat and my breathing was coming out in rigid, fast-paced heaves.

  “Can you just not go on MySpace today? I’ll fix this. I’ll just kill him. I mean, it’s not like anyone will miss him, right?” She shrugged casually with a smile forced on her lips. She was completely serious.

  “What’s he done?” I whispered, staring out into the nothingness of the world. That’s what it felt like, like my world had turned black and white, dull, and hard to live with. Tears began to stream down my face, and Indie stepped in front of me, her hands coming up to my cheeks.

  “No! He does not get more of your tears.”

  “I think I loved him, Indie.”

  Her face dropped as she clutched her hand in mine. “I think you did too. We’re going to get you home, okay, until I fix this.”

  I shook my head. “What is it? Please, just tell me. I’d rather hear it from you than the mean girls.”

  She exhaled. “I don’t know where to start. He said a bunch of things about you that are not true, and then everyone has taken to social media to intensify it. It has gotten a little out of control. What I guess would have been one rumor has now morphed into a fucking shit parade.” She watched me closely, worry etched all over her face.

  “What rumor?” I asked, the tears drying on my cheeks and the pain beginning to be so draining that it was sifting into numbness.

  “He said… well, I think he said… it could be Chinese whispers that had escalated to—”

  “Spit it out, Indie.”

  “He said you became obsessed with him and started stalking his every move like a crazy person. He said he tried to get rid of you after you ‘bled all over his dick,’ but you didn’t get the hint. And a bunch of other shit that I— Bry!”

  I pushed her out of the way, anger, hurt, betrayal seeping into my skin like a bad smell. Everything started blurring; the lockers zipping past me as I flew toward the front doors became pieces of a painful puzzle I didn’t want to see. The bell rang just as I hit the doors, and the hall began to crowd with teens. Teens who found solitude in picking on me. For what reason? I don�
�t know. The laughing all died out as I internally attempted to block them out. With my vision blurry and my feet heavy, I pushed through the doors and ran down the outside steps, heading directly to my car.

  “Bryleigh!” Tommy yelled out, and I paused. Every nerve in my body was taut and… tired.

  I spun around slowly, eyes so badly swollen and red I could hardly see out of them, because the last week’s suffering was beginning to show.

  Tommy’s face dropped. “Fuck,” he growled, walking toward me, and I threw my hands up.

  “Stay the fuck away from me,” I cried, before I spun around and dashed for my car.

  I skidded to a halt outside my house just as my dad was getting out of his car.

  “Bryleigh?” he asked. Worry lines had deepened on his face the past week. I had taken a toll on both of my parents. They didn’t know how to help me, and I knew they felt helpless, but in that moment, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how badly I wanted this to all end. I wanted to close my eyes and not wake up.

  Busting through my pool house door, I swiped the tears off my cheeks angrily and ran toward my bedside table, where my Xanax sat. I popped open the container and downed two pills, swallowing them forcefully. I walked into the bathroom, locking it behind me. The sudden banging on the door pulled my attention away from the little pills.

  “Bryleigh? Honey, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Your father and I are very worried.”

  “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

  “Honey, we don’t know what to do to help you.” Her voice broke out in a hoarse whisper, and I swear my heart snapped a bit.

  “You can leave me alone!” I yelled.

  I pulled my SideKick out of my pocket and opened up MySpace while sliding down to the bathroom floor. My heart plummeted. It was the point where I completely lost whatever control I thought I had left. Ryker had left comments on photos of me, egging the cyber bullies on.

  There were people that were all over a fake profile called “Bryleigh Monroe is a Crazy Ho.” They actually made a fake profile just to pick on me and upload/share details about me. Ryker was in there, commenting on all the photos and status updates. With shaky hands, my phone slipped from my grip and I banged my head against the wall angrily as more tears descended down my cheek. The Xanax were starting to take effect, because my vision was starting to blur. Through my hazy eyes, I spotted the razors that sat right next to me on the edge of the bathtub. I picked it up with shaky hands and bent it, popping one of the blades through.