by Megan Hand
“I don’t know you. Go away,” he grumbles.
Just like that. Like a sullen teenager, he thinks he can get rid of me. Really? No wonder this guy has never had a girlfriend.
He begins to swing the door shut when I jam my foot in the opening. “No, you have to hear me out. You don’t know me, but I know you.”
“No, you don’t.” He tries to kick my foot out of the way.
Mature.
“Yes, I do.”
I don’t trust my foot not to budge, so I squeeze my right shoulder into the space, too. Our close proximity finally gets him to back away, and the door falls open. He has that deer-in-headlights look, which convinces me that there’s no way he could’ve gone through with what he was planning to do last night. Or tonight. Or ever.
“I know what you’re planning to do tonight. I know who you’re planning it with. I can’t explain, but.” I hold the T-shirt up in display, “I know you’re going to wear this tonight.”
He backs up until he’s flush with the bed, and shock forces him to sit. “You don’t know.” He’s ghost white. Whether he recognizes the T-shirt or not, I can tell the guilt is already eating at him because he can’t look me in the eye.
I take another step forward and thump the door shut with my foot. For a second, I think his roommate might be in the room, but it’s all clear. “I do know, and you can’t do it. I came here to ask you for your help. We need to stop these guys.”
He begins to stammer. “W-what are y-you t-t-t-talking about?”
I sigh and toss the shirt on the bed. I really don’t even know why I brought it, other than it’s my only proof that last night happened.
My response forms around an inner battle with an outcome somewhere along the lines of, To hell whether he thinks I’m crazy or not. I will get him to believe me if it’s the last breathing thing I do.
My tone is calmer than my thoughts. “Okay. This is going to sound really crazy, but I already lived this day. Or I had a dream about it. Doesn’t matter. I know that you’re going to The Clove tonight with a guy named H and Brandon. I know those aren’t their real names…”
As I recap last night in a large-sized nutshell, Trigger’s hands grip his mattress tighter and tighter. I sum it up, and I don’t leave out much. I include how he saved me and how my friends nearly died. “Look, I also know that you don’t want to be a part of this. Not based only on last night, but looking at you now, too, you don’t want this. I know they threatened you.”
His head shoots up. “This is a trick. It’s a trick! They told you to watch me, didn’t they?”
“It’s not a trick! How would I know this stuff otherwise?”
“I dunno. Maybe Alpha told you all this to keep an eye on me. Test my loyalty. Are you their little bitch, too? Why are they doing this to me? Why are they doing this to me?”
My jaw hangs open in stunned silence as he paces in the small open space, babbling to himself.
“I knew it. I knew it. People in corners. That’s what he said, ‘people in corners.’ I should’ve believed him. I should’ve…why? Why? I didn’t want to do this.” He holds out his hands, begging me to believe him. “I didn’t want to do this.” He sinks to his knees and starts rocking. The guy is a wreck.
More babbling. “I just wanted to talk to a girl. They said they’d help me talk to girls, but they said I deserved better. All girls are bitches. Don’t trust them. They said that too.”
He rambles on and on, and I can only make out half of it. He’s in full-blown meltdown mode. I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be able to convince him of anything. I’m desperate though. I need him on my side, or I’ve got absolutely nothing to go on.
“Look!” I yell to get his attention.
He stops gibbering, though his eyes are still glazed.
“You don’t have to believe me, but I need your help or someone will get hurt tonight. Now I know they threatened you, but if we get these guys locked up, then that threat is null and void. You get me?”
He snaps out of it like he’s losing, or winning, his own inner battle. “NO! Get out! Get out and tell them I’ll be there tonight as planned.”
“I—”
“GO!”
He’s in my face now, and I realize I’m trembling. I muster up the little courage I have left. It seems I’ve lost the testicles I had when I screamed at H and Alpha, demanding my escape. I’m betting it happened somewhere between nearly losing my life and waking up this morning, thinking I’d killed my friends.
“No. If you don’t come with me now, I’m going to the police by myself.”
He’s crowding over me, making me lean backward. My spinal cord protests, but I jut my chin and don’t move.
To my surprise and annoyance, he slides back into Cuckooville, pacing again and crooning in a small voice. “It’s over. It’s all over. My career. Everything. My…” His voice strangles to a stop. He clears his throat. “You’ll report me to them or the police. I’m done.”
Ugh! Where is this guy’s fighting spirit?
Exasperated, I grab him by his shirt collar. My height really does come in handy sometimes. “Get a grip!”
Afraid he’ll collapse on me, I back him up to the bed, but he stays standing and glances down at me as if he’s just now tuning in to our conversation. I’m out of breath, out of a lot of things.
“I don’t want to report you to them or the police. I want you to help me report them to the police.”
I suddenly realize I’m gripping his collar so hard that I’m pulling his face toward mine. It’s awkward, but at least his attention is on me. I release him and stumble back. That’s when I notice my cell buzzing in my pocket. When I pull it out, the screen shows eight missed calls in the last three minutes. Yikes.
Since Trigger is pondering, I answer it. “Hey, baby—” The endearment is a nice touch, but Jay doesn’t give me a chance to finish.
“Where are you?” His voice is abnormally loud. I can almost hear his nostrils flaring through the speaker.
My shoulders shrink in, and I have to pull the phone away from my ear.
“I’ve been up and down these halls, and you’re nowhere! Either you’ve decided to take up residence here, or you’re in big fucking trouble!”
Yeah, I kind of figured that.
He sounds like a prick, but I have it coming. I keep my voice low and soothing. “Babe, I know. I should’ve answered, but I found the guy, and I had to talk to him. I know you’re just mad and worried. Calm down. I’m okay.”
The line goes quiet. All I hear is his angry breaths.
“Where are you?” he asks, not loud but still angry. Calculating.
Maybe Jay will murder me, and I can be done with this whole ordeal. I know. Not funny.
“Four-ten, but I’ll be out in a few minutes, I swear. Just go out to the car before it gets towed.” I end the call.
Trigger is now in a state somewhere between meltdown and rational.
I appeal to him once more, my voice near tears. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I need your help. If you don’t, someone will get hurt tonight, and I can’t live with that on my head.”
Just remembering the dream with all the blood and Heather and Nilah’s coffins gives me the shivers.
His face is frozen in a state of decision. I begin to count the seconds that tick by. Three, four, five…fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…
He turns away from me. “Alright,” he finally says. “I’ll help you.” He sounds miserable.
I let out a whimper I didn’t realize had been stuck in my throat for all those silent seconds. “Thank you. Okay, first things first. I know you know the real names of two of the guys, but you don’t know Alpha’s?”
“No.”
Damn. I knew that though. “I ran into him outside. I tried to get his pic—”
He swings around and grips my upper arms. “You what?”
I shake my head, not sure what answer he expects. “I…I…”
“You ran in
to him? What did he say? Did he hurt you?” Recognizing he might be hurting me himself, he lets go. “I’m sorry. It’s just…he scares me.”
From the way his top lip curls up, I’m guessing that wasn’t easy for him to admit.
I tread carefully. “Last night, you told me the other names are James Moore and Nelson Mitchell—”
He cuts me off, suspicious again. “How do you know all of this if you aren’t with them?”
Because you told me is the easy response, but it’s not exactly a believable one. “I know it’s crazy. I know how it sounds, but you gotta believe me. I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m on your side, not theirs. Can you trust me?”
I’m asking that a lot today.
His eyes are hard. “I don’t know.”
I nod, shrug. I’m getting nowhere. There’s a knock at the door. I look at Trigger first, but he waits for me, almost daring me. So I answer it.
“Jay,” I breathe.
I don’t want his attitude, but I suddenly realize I need his presence. I throw myself into his arms. He’s stiff, obviously not expecting it, then he melts around me, holding me tight. He knows that I know I’ll pay for all of this later. I’m shelling out a lot of IOUs today, too.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper quickly and kiss him on the lips before I let him go. I wipe the bit of wet from the corners of my eyes and point to Jay. “This is my boyfriend.”
Trigger is silent, splitting a glance between me and Jay.
I gesture to Trigger, mentally reminding myself. “This is…Franklin.”
Jay’s arm is on my back. His other is at his side, but he doesn’t offer his hand to Trigger. “Is what she’s saying true?”
I try to pretend that Jay’s doubt doesn’t hurt me. We don’t have time for me.
Trigger’s eyes go wide. He’s warring with himself. “Yes. It’s all true.”
Jay squeezes his eyes shut and plants a hand on his forehead. After a few seconds, he asks, “Why do they call you Trigger?”
“ ‘Cause I made the drugs.” Trigger throws out his arms like it’s obvious. “I’m the triggerman.”
I think I already knew that, but I have to know the rest. “Why is H…H?”
Trigger sits down, rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s…the henchman. He picks the girls.”
I’m suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. We haven’t even gotten to the serious part of the talk yet and already it’s coming back in high-definition quality picture. “And Brandon?”
“He’s muscle,” Trigger says reluctantly.
Yup, that makes sense, too.
“So, James is…?”
“Brandon.”
“And, Nelson is—”
“H.”
“And Alpha?” My hands are in knots wrapped around my middle.
“The leader, but he’s been mostly uninvolved so far.”
Jay spins away from us, throwing his arms over his head, a sign that he’s really stressing. “I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe it.” He repeats it until he runs out of breath and turns back to us. “Are there others?” His face looks like it doesn’t know if it wants to be white with shock or red with rage.
“There are…” Trigger looks sick to his stomach as well. “Clients. Elite. Invitation only.”
Jay’s chest heaves with the reality I’ve been dealing with all morning. I don’t feel so alone anymore, but I don’t like this feeling, this burden I’m putting on him.
I want to ask Trigger more questions, but I don’t want to waste more time here. Plus, I don’t think I can listen to anymore. I’m ready to go to the police and get all of this on paper. Although I’m still at a loss as to how we’re going to go about it. I can’t exactly tell the police about my time-travel debacle. That wouldn’t be wise or efficient.
I ask to make sure. “You’ll help us then?”
Trigger shrugs, helpless. “I don’t know how much I can help you. What do you want me to do?”
“Go to the police,” I say in a haughty tone.
I don’t want to change his mind or piss him off, but my bull horns are threatening to make an appearance.
He shakes his head sadly. “I don’t think it’ll make a difference. These guys are way off radar. They don’t go to school here, and they only tell me enough to keep me in the loop. They’ve been doing this for a while and aren’t anywhere close to being caught.”
“We still have your testimony,” I point out. Then I realize something doesn’t make sense. “Wait, why did they want you anyway? Didn’t they already have a drug guy?”
Trigger makes a face. “I’m at the top of my class, and I have higher clearance. They needed something new, something…complicated,” he says in a weird way.
I can’t tell if he’s withholding information or dumbing it down for our benefit.
“They did have someone, but they told me not to ask or I’d end up like him. These guys aren’t to be messed with. Seriously.”
Seriously, I don’t care. His mouth is a bit tame compared to the attitude he was trying to bring last night.
“Well, come on. We need to get out of here.”
“Should I bring that?” He’s asking about the T-shirt.
Right.
“Oh. No. Unless there are fingerprints on it, I don’t think it’ll help us.”
Jay herds me out, anxious to go.
“Wait.” Trigger rummages through a drawer and pockets a cell and a wallet. “Alright.” He slips into a worn pair of…loafers.
Wow, I’m really getting a clear image of what making him over must have taken.
Stay on track, Lil.
Jay keeps his arm around my waist the whole way out while Trigger follows three steps behind. He hesitantly slides into the backseat of Jay’s red Camry.
We pull out onto the main campus drive again. When I spot a newspaper stand, I smack the window. “Wait! Stop.”
Jay swings into the curve where the buses pull up. I hop out, score a paper, and rip it open after buckling my seatbelt again. I eat up every word as quickly as I can, searching for anything that might hint at a rise in crime or rapes in the campus area. We need something to prove our case.
“You won’t find anything in there,” Trigger says, matter-of-fact.
“Right.” I look at Jay’s profile as he drives. “We need to stop and get a city paper.”
“You won’t find anything in there either.”
I crane my neck around to see Trigger. “Why?”
“They don’t get in-town girls, and the drugs…they’re too good. The girls never remember. So they’ve told me,” he adds almost inaudibly.
I face forward and sink into the seat. Of course. He told me that last night. They always target girls out of town or something like that. I’m feeling deflated and edgy. “The drugs they use? You mean the drugs you make?”
It takes Trigger a full minute to answer me. It’s so long, in fact, that I think I’m not going to get anything.
Until he admits very slowly, “Yes, I made them.”
My irritation is shooting through the roof. God, this is such a weird, fucking awkward situation. I don’t want to be here anymore with this guy. I don’t want to be here today or any day. This isn’t fair. In my huff, I crumple the paper into a ball and chuck it to the floor in an effort to blow off steam, but I only feel worse.
Jay catches my hand and squeezes it. He seems more together than me now. “Where is the closest campus police office?”
“You think they can help us?” I ask bitterly. “Like he said, they’re not going to know.”
“We need to start somewhere. We’ll stop there and get an address for a precinct.”
I sink down into the seat, wishing this day would just be over already.
After a few random drive-by queries, we get the name of the hall where the campus police are located. Jay pulls up to the building and parks in the fire lane because there are no available spots.
He eyes me and suggests, “Maybe
we should all go in.”
“We’ll get towed,” I point out.
His fingers are still linked with mine, and he tugs softly. “Just you then.”
As I look at Jay, I’m able to see Trigger from my peripheral vision. He’s digging his bony fingers into his knees. Leaving him alone would not be wise. He could bail, and all my efforts would be in the toilet. “I’ll stay. We’ll be fine.”
Jay’s face tightens. He glances at Trigger from the rearview mirror. “Lay a finger on Lila and I’ll remove it.”
Simple and to the point. Viciously protective in an even, calm tone. God, I love him.
He kisses the left corner of my forehead. “Be right back.”
Once he’s gone, Trigger and I are engulfed in heavy silence.
“So…” I want to start the conversation to loosen him up so he’ll give me more of the story of how tonight is going to work, but I’m not quite sure how to do it.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” I finally blurt out. Wow. Good one, Lil. Real smooth. I feel my face wrinkle up as I amend myself. “I mean, do you have a time to meet up? You have to, right?”
Trigger takes his time and sighs. “We have a plan.” He’s clearly uncomfortable talking about this.
“Well, we need to come up with a way to tell the police all of this without getting you in trouble. Have you thought about what you’ll say?”
I hear a mocking laugh.
He says, “You honestly think going to the police will do anything? You’re living in a dream.”
He might have a point there. If I pinch myself, would I wake up from this hellish nightmare? I pinch my arm for good measure. Nope. Still here. “Maybe I am, but I won’t let tonight happen. I don’t care how I have to stop it.”
He goes quiet again, and I grow impatient.
I shift in my seat again to face him. “Don’t you have anything on these guys? They didn’t let anything slip? The name of a victim? Dates? Anything?”
His nostrils flare. “No.”
He doesn’t want to cooperate, huh? The bull horns emerge again. “Are you being real, or are you just placating me? I’m not letting this go. You helped me last night. You saved me. That’s what’s really inside you. You want a life, a career, a wife, kids. I know you don’t want to mess all that up by drugging some chicks for a cheap night that could land you in jail for the rest of your life.”
