by C. A. Harms
“Don’t move, Blair,” she says, and I can hear she is out of breath. “Sadie’s getting her car and we’ll be right there.”
I nod as if she can actually see me while I continue to look around me in all directions, spinning around in my seat from side to side, looking for any signs of movement.
“Blair.” Whitney says my name in panic.
“I’m here.” I take in a deep breath. “Just hurry, please.”
Chapter Twelve
Jake
Had I not been in a room with two armed men and my father I would have broken free. I’m trapped, and I feel like I’m going to ignite. I’ve tried more than half a dozen times to leave and the damage to my face proves it. I taste blood, can barely see out of my left eye, and my ribs ache with every breath I take. But none of these things compare to the pain I feel inside not knowing what they are doing to Blair. I vow over and over in my mind that I will kill each of them and feel no remorse.
The sound of the door opening behind me has me spinning up and out of my chair to face my brother and Eddie.
“Damn brother, you look like shit.” Gabe chuckles as he shakes his head and attempts to move past me. Only he doesn’t get far before my fist connects with his jaw and he stumbles back. I’m on him before he has the chance to register what is happening. I throw one punch after another; the shuffle of those behind me as they attempt to intervene is nothing but a blur.
“I’ll kill you,” I spit. “If you fucking touched her I will end you.”
Suddenly I’m heaved up and distance is placed between us as Paul and Brody hold me back.
“Enough.” My father’s voice booms behind us. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit.”
Gabe wipes at the blood on his lip as he stands up from the floor. He loves a good fight and only seems pleased that he’s gotten one from me. He reaches around and pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket. “Got four names and four addresses.”
He again moves toward our father and gives me a smile and a wink. “Blair was more than happy to help.”
“You fucking…” I hold back my words, knowing they’ll only inflict more wrath from my father.
“I think I even heard her purr a time or two.” Eddie smirks as he shares a look with my brother. “She ever purr for you, Cyrus?”
“The two of you need to remember one thing. These two men aren’t gonna be holding onto me forever.” It’s a warning for him to shut his fucking mouth and he registers that quickly. I may be the tamer one of the Gunther men, but I can also handle shit when it is necessary. I have no problem destroying them both.
“Will you chill the fuck out, Cyrus?” Gabe tosses my father the paper. “We talked, she feared me, but I told her how I wouldn’t upset my brother by touching her the way I wanted to. And let me just say I really wanted to touch her.”
My nostrils flare and I fight my anger.
“I’ll admit that I copped a feel or two, because it was uncontrollable.”
I lunge once more.
“Seriously man, you’ve had that body of hers laid out before you and you’ve felt the pull she creates. That woman has a great set on her.” He places his hands out before him as if he was squeezing his own tits. “Firm and definitely more than a handful.”
“I’m gonna kill you.” I mean it, but he doesn’t buy it.
“You ain’t gonna do nothing once you’re freed but go chasing after tail trying to explain shit she ain’t gonna listen to. She knows who you are now, Cyrus, I explained everything.”
He’s right. I hate to admit it, but my first instinct is to find her. I need to know she is all right. She’ll hate me and I know this, but I have to know that she is safe.
It is well into the morning hours before I’m released from my father’s office. He ensures my brother and Eddie are long gone and some place I won’t be able to get to them. The bastard actually thinks I just needed to cool off, that somehow I’ll get past this.
I won’t. I never will.
I leave the warehouse and climb into my car, trying again to contact Blair by phone. This time instead of ringing four times, it goes straight to her voicemail.
“I need to know you’re okay. You can hate me, forget I exist, but please tell me you’re okay,” I plead with her, leaving message after message.
I don’t deserve it, I know I don't, but I feel like I’m the cause of it happening. I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted. I should have gone in and pushed for answers from the start. I would have been gentler, I would never have hurt her or made her fear me, but I let my heart get in front of my head.
I call the bar and find out she hadn’t shown up for her shift, which I think I already knew. I guess I was just hoping by some miracle I was wrong.
I drive across the city to her apartment and though her car isn’t parked outside, I still go inside her building. I beat on her door for over ten minutes and call three more times, only to get the same response. Nothing.
As I sit in my car outside of her building, adrenaline courses through me at dangerous levels. Thoughts of going back to the warehouse and putting a bullet between the eyes of every one of those bastards runs through my mind on overdrive. I want the satisfaction of knowing they’ve all paid for everything they’ve done, now and in the past.
My mind plays out every possible scenario, every place she could have gone. Then I realize the information I’m in desperate need of lies in the hands of one person. One that I still hold power over.
I tap out a text and wait, bouncing my leg impatiently with every passing second.
Me: Where is she?
Sadie: She’s with Whitney and me, please just leave her alone.
Me: I need to know she’s okay.
Sadie: She’s not. She’s scared and angry. She’s a mess and I think letting her go is for the best. Please, you all got what you wanted.
The idea that she thinks I want this infuriates me.
Me: This is the last fucking thing I want. Now tell me where she is.
Sadie: I can’t. She deserves better.
She’s right, Blair does deserve better but I’m a selfish man and I can’t let this go. I also know Sadie doesn’t have solid ground to stand on because I have the upper hand when it comes to her. I can destroy her if I have too, but I don’t want to. I just need her to give me what I ask.
Me: You tell me now, or you can explain to her all the lies you’ve been feeding her for the last year or more. Your choice.
Bubbles pop up like she is typing, then stop. A few seconds pass before they pop up again with an address.
Sadie: I’ve never seen her like this, please just do the right thing and let her go.
I sit in my car for the next thirty minutes, staring at the last text she sent. I try to will myself to do as she asks, but the more time that passes the harder it is to just remain where I am.
The ride to Whitney’s is a blur; I can’t remember any of the turns. It’s like I black out, my mind solely focusing on Blair and me, and the last time I was with her in her apartment. I want to go back there, go back to her looking up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. I want to see her smiling as I kiss the tip of her nose, and then her cheeks and lips.
Before I know it, I am parked outside Whitney’s building and it hits me hard, knowing that I’ll never get to see or feel those things with her again. Our time is over before it even had the chance to start.
My body hums with fear and a sadness I’ve never experienced as I climb the stairs and push my way through the front door. Whitney has a ground floor apartment and when I reach her door, I pause just outside it. Leaning in to press my ear against it, I remain silent. I can hear a television playing, but other than that, nothing.
I’m not sure how much time has passed before I gather enough courage to knock on the door. But the second the door opens all I see is a fireball of auburn hair rushing toward me. One swing after another, little fists connect with my already bruised jaw and ribs.
“Yo
u bastard.” Whitney launches herself at me and Sadie follows behind her. “If I had a gun I’d kill you myself.”
Sadie does all she can to drag Whitney off me but I do nothing to stop her. She needs this, hell, I need this. I feel like I deserve every blow and kick I get. I take them all, and I’ll continue to just to see that Blair is okay.
“How could you let them hurt her like that?” Her words struck something inside me and I grab her wrists to tame her if even for a second.
“Hurt her?”
“Yes, you son of a bitch,” Her eyes are reddened and swollen, evidence of hours of crying. “They touched her and…” She pauses and backs away from me, jerking her hands free. “Forget it, you don’t deserve an explanation.”
“You’re right, I don’t deserve it, but I tried to stop them.” I point to my face. “I was sent in to get answers but in the process, I fell for her. I let my guard down and look where it fucking got me. Look where it got her. I didn’t want any of this to happen.”
Before Whitney gets the chance to say anything in response I hear Blair’s voice.
“You need to leave.” I look up to find her standing in the doorway, with her arms crossed over her chest tightly. She’s wearing a sweatshirt that swallows her small frame and a pair of sweats that appear to be three sizes too big. “They may have threatened me about not calling the cops, but I’m telling you if you don’t leave right now, I’m calling them.”
Her cheek is bruised and visual confirmation that they did hurt her. I feel like the evidence of what I already suspected breaks me, like my chest has literally been cracked open and exposed; it hurts so much.
I step forward and not only do both girls step in front of me to block my path, but Blair steps back. “Please, let me look at you.”
“Just leave me alone.” Her lower lip trembles. “You all got what you wanted. You got your answers, but you should know that all you had to do was ask me. You didn’t have to send your sick brother and friend to get the answers I would have given you willingly.”
“I didn’t send them.” I fist my hands at my sides, fighting the urge to go crazy and push through the two people who block me. “I did everything short of being shot attempting to stop them.”
She doesn’t seem convinced and the fact that she looks toward the floor instead of at me is like another kick to the chest.
“Nate owes my father a lot of money,” I finally say, though I know I shouldn’t even attempt to explain. Nothing I say is going to change how she views me and that is hard to accept. But I need her to know. Even if she no longer cares about me, I want to assure her that never did I want to see her hurt.
“He was a dealer for my father, Zeke Gunther.” Whitney gasps and Blair lifts her head as her gaze meets mine. “He got careless and started snorting his stash. He threw parties and supplied everyone who attended on my father's dime. After he split and took the remaining amount he had, my father went crazy. There wasn’t anything or anyone that was gonna stop him from getting what he was owed.”
“What in the hell does any of this have to do with me?” She practically screams the words as she steps forward and fists her small hands at her sides.
“He needed someone to become a part of your life and ensure you weren’t hiding Nate.” The more I explain the more hate is shown for me in her eyes. “Someone on the inside to get all the information they could on Nate and what you knew.”
"I don’t know anything.”
“I know and that’s what I’ve been telling them.” I believe her, I always believed her.
“So having sex with me, all the late night talks and sweet gestures, those were all part of this fucking game you were playing in an attempt to find Nate.” The anger inside her has surfaced as she takes another step toward me. “I was just a quick piece of ass to sweeten the deal.”
“No.” I shake my head frantically, feeling panic rise.
She laughs sadistically. “Yeah, and I should just believe you because you’ve been so honest with me from the beginning, right?”
“Blair.” I reach out for her.
“No.” She once again moves further inside the apartment. “You disgust me, all of you. The way they touched me, the things they said and assured me they would do to me.” Blair swallows hard and shakes her head as if she is attempting to clear an image from her mind. “You can go back and tell your father and whoever else you have to report to that I don’t know where Nate is, and I don’t give a shit. He’s their problem, not mine.”
“They didn’t…” I pause because I couldn’t finish the sentence. I’m not sure I want to know the full extent of what took place. The idea that my brother or even Eddie may have raped her eats away at me.
“Whitney was right,” Blair adds as she squares her shoulders, “you don’t deserve to know.”
I wasn’t the crying type, I have never been. But right now, the not knowing combined with the pain in Blair’s eyes and her voice, I feel my eyes burn. My vision blurs as I close them tightly, trying to fight the battle I am losing fast.
“There’s nothing more to say,” Blair whispers and I open my eyes to find that Sadie and Whitney have now joined her.
“You need to leave now.” Blair starts to close the door and I call out for her in one last desperate attempt. Only it does nothing to phase her. The door shuts and shortly after the sound of the lock being twisted on the opposite side is the final blow that throws me over the edge.
Chapter Thirteen
Blair
It’s been almost a week since I closed the door on Jake. Almost a week that I’ve been sleeping on Whitney’s couch and almost a week of crying myself to sleep every night. I’ve taken so many showers I’ve lost count, scrubbing at my skin until it is an angry shade of pink. Doing everything I can to try and rid myself of the feelings that day left in me. Every time I close my eyes I picture Jake’s brother: the broken tooth, the seedy eyes. I hear the dirty words he spoke play on repeat in my mind and sometimes they make me feel like I’m going crazy.
I just want them to stop; I want it all to stop.
It's like a bee buzzing around in my head, taunting me, making me feel as though at any moment I’ll feel its sting. I’m afraid to leave because I am always fearful of seeing them again. At every turn I imagine them being there to face me, being unable to escape them, and having them go through with the threats they made.
I’ve noticed the way Whitney and Sadie look at me, like at any second I’m going to spiral out of control and become nothing more than some crazed lunatic. I’ll admit it I feel it too; I’m barely hanging on to my sanity, or so it feels.
“Are you hungry?” My body jerks in reaction to the sound of Whitney’s voice. Instantly I notice the sadness settle in her eyes. This, my situation, it’s eating away at her too. “I think you need to go to the cops.” She sits down at my side as slow and gentle as possible.
“Tell them what? That Zeke Gunther and his sons fucked me over in more ways than one?” It feels so surreal. “I just want to forget about it all. Forget Jake or Cyrus or whoever he is. I want to forget that I met him, that I believed him, and let him touch me.” I curl just a little tighter into the blanket that surrounds me. “All I want is to find a place that I can walk outside again and not be scared of who I’ll face.”
“What are you saying?”
I’ve thought it over, every hour, every minute. It’s all I’ve thought about. I’ve gone over option after option in my mind and they all lead me back to one thing.
“I think I need to start over.” I look up at my best friend once more and fight against the fear of the unknown that has been haunting me daily. “I just don’t think I’ll ever feel safe if I stay here.”
There are a few passing seconds of silence before Whitney slides in closer to my side and hugs me tight. “So where are we going?”
“Whit—”
“Don’t even consider the notion that I will let you leave without me following right behind.” She smiles at
me, real and genuine for the first time in days.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You never asked, which let me say right now up front how offensive that is.” She bumps her shoulder playfully against mine. “But laying those feelings aside, you should know by now that I need you in my life just as much if not more than you need me. So there really isn’t any reason for us to sit here and go back and forth over it. The only thing left for us to do is decide where we’re going.”
“That’s the thing,” I whisper as I look away from her. “I don’t know where to go.”
“Home.”
I close my eyes as I feel the threatening tears. When she says “home” she means hers. But in a sense, I guess it is mine too. It’s the one place I always feel like I’m accepted, like I belong. Whitney’s parents are the only true parents I ever felt I had. Being raised in foster care wasn’t a joyous event. Some kids are lucky to be placed with that loving couple that finds nurturing a child in need as their calling. My foster parents were not those people; they were the kind that didn’t ask you about your day or tell you that you looked pretty when you spent hours fixing yourself up. They were distant and the only thing they enjoyed about sharing their home with me was the check they received around the first of every month. I never knew what it felt like to be loved by a parent until the Flannigans opened their home to me. It was almost as if they had an adopted daughter they didn’t need to be paid to love. They just did it because they were good people.
It made me wonder why Whitney and I ever decided to leave Iowa. But then at the time we’d chosen to leave we were two young girls fresh out of community college thinking that we understood all there was to know about life. Now here we are, a few years later, realizing that we knew nothing.
