Beautiful PRICK

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Beautiful PRICK Page 7

by Kenzie, Sophia


  “What is it, Johnny?”

  I’m anxious to get back to my crime show marathon.

  “Just, be careful, okay?”

  My eyes widen at the extreme awkwardness. “Got it.”

  Then he leans in and kisses me softly on the cheek. He holds there for just a split second, and in that brief moment, my eyes close. For the first time, I don’t hate him. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want to be alone.

  But, of course, I don’t tell him that.

  “Goodbye, Caroline.”

  And he’s gone. And I hate it. And I want him back.

  It’s that freaking accent, I tell you.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Can no one let me just watch a full episode?”

  I toss the blankets off of myself and throw my feet to the floor.

  “Ouch. Ouch.” I make a mental note to grab more ibuprofen when I get back from answering the door.

  I push my face up against the door, expecting to see Melissa on the other side of the peephole, but it’s someone I don’t recognize. Or do I? It’s a woman. She’s maybe five foot, nine, with blonde hair, sunglasses, and she’s wearing a sundress.

  She seems harmless…

  “Can I help you?” I call as loud as I can while still sounding normal.

  “Caroline Carver?” She calls back, pulling down her sunglasses.

  “Yes. And who are you?” My voice is shaking.

  “I’m Jules. Johnny sent me over with your car and a few other things.”

  “Johnny?” Now I’m confused, but the blatant fear is dissipating.

  “Yes. I actually have him on the phone right now. Would you like to speak with him?”

  My first instinct tells me that it’s a trap. Someone is after me, and they knew this would be the best way to make me feel comfortable; telling me that Johnny sent them with my car. Sending a woman, in a sundress, that’s just smart thinking, of course I wouldn’t see her as a threat. But I know, as soon as I open the door, she’s going to break in and push me to the ground, and then she’ll…

  Really, Caroline? How paranoid can I really be? There’s no one after me. It was random. Why can’t I get that through my head?

  Still, just to be safe, I keep the chain on the door and ask Jules (if that really is her name) to slip me the phone through the small opening.

  “Hello?”

  “Caroline, it’s me.”

  Relief flushes over me. “Oh thank God.” I sigh.

  “Hey, listen…” He starts. “Jules is my sister. I asked her to bring your over.”

  Jules… Julia… Julia Braylock. I knew she looked familiar. Wow. I really am a mess.

  “Wait, how? My keys were in my bag.” I begin to look around, at nothing in particular, but for some reason, I feel as though I need to check for a spare set of keys.

  “I had a guy from the dealership come down to the lot and make you a new set.”

  “Why?” Now I’m totally confused.

  He chuckles on the other end of the line. “How else were you planning on getting to work tomorrow? I know you’re not going to try to walk that trip again.” He tries to lighten the situation.

  “Right.” The fog begins to lift just a bit. “Right. Um, thank you?”

  “Is that a question?” He jokes.

  “No, I mean it. Really. Thank you, Johnny.”

  Why is he being so nice to me? It feels… weird.

  “You’re welcome. I also had Jules take care of cancelling your credit cards and ordering you a new driver’s license.”

  “Okay, now you’re being creepy.”

  “I just knew you weren’t thinking about it.”

  “But how did you…” I don’t even know how to finish this sentence.

  “Come on, did you really think I’ve never looked through your bag before?” He smugly announces.

  “Hey, that’s not okay, Johnny. That’s a violation of my privacy.” I start, but I stop. He doesn’t try to fight me. “But thank you for doing that. I completely forgot that’s a thing.”

  I did. The last thing I’m thinking about right now is getting my wallet back. I guess I subconsciously just thought it would all magically return to me, and the only thing I would have to take care of was fighting the memory of last night.

  Well, I guess that pretty much is what happened.

  “Caroline?” He gets my attention back. “How much cash did you have on you?”

  “Cash?”

  “Yes. How much was in your wallet?” He seems to be rushing me.

  “Um, like five dollars.”

  “Great. Perfect. Hold on for a sec.”

  There’s a shuffle on the other end of the line, and then I hear him yell to someone that he’s just about done.

  “Do you have to go?” I question when I hear him return.

  “I do. It was just a short break. I gave Jules five hundred dollars to give to you. That should hold you over until your new debit card comes in.”

  “No, no, no.” I quickly protest. “I don’t want your money.”

  “Right, she’s still giving it to you.”

  “Johnny, no, I’m not going to spend it.”

  “Great. Then you can give it back to me when your card gets in. Think of it as a buffer. Just in case.”

  There’s no use fighting. He’s right. I’ll need something.

  “Thank you.” I whisper, genuinely thanking him.

  “You’re welcome. Hey, call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye kid.”

  Again, with the kid. As if I don’t already feel like a child after this entire phone call.

  I unlatch the door and let Jules in, apologizing for being a bit of a lunatic. She steps into the doorway, but is sure to keep her distance. She runs me through everything she did, and asks me if she might have missed any credit cards or ID cards. I shake my head, promising that she did a very thorough job at getting my life back. She then hands me a brand new set of car keys and five hundred dollars in twenties.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Of course.” She smiles, and she looks just like Johnny… only she’s a girl… and she’s pretty, really pretty. So, in that sense, she looks nothing like Johnny.

  “And it was nice to meet you. Baseball is for Sissies is still my favorite movie.”

  Jules politely laughs. “I actually get that a lot.”

  Her accent isn’t as strong as Johnny’s. It’s just a hint.

  “Do you still act?”

  “Oh God no. I’m a lawyer. I don’t have to be in court today, so apparently my brother thinks I have time to run his errands.”

  I instantly feel ashamed. “Oh my God. I am so sorry.”

  “Oh no, no, no.” She waves her hands at me. “I’m happy to do it. It’s not every day my brother thinks of someone other than himself. You must be pretty special.”

  “I’m not special.”

  That didn’t come out the way I meant for it to come out.

  “I mean, I’m not special to Johnny. I’m just his assistant.”

  “Oh, sure.” She winks at me. Then she whispers through her sly smile. “You know, I don’t believe that for a second.”

  She warmly blushes at me while she walks out of the still open door.

  “Julia! I mean, Jules!” I clear my throat. “You left your phone.”

  “Oh, no.” She calls back as she opens the back door of a town car and steps inside. “That’s your new phone. Your numbers should all be programmed in there, including Johnny’s.”

  She gives me a little wave before she closes the door and tells the driver where she would like to go.

  Wow. Julia Braylock was just in my apartment. She talked to me. She told me I was special.

  Wait. What did she mean by that? Did she really not think I was just Johnny’s assistant? Did she think something was going on between us?

  I can’t stand the man. Although, he’s being overly nice to me in my current state of jus
t getting mugged, I’m pretty sure he can’t stand me either.

  But I guess that’s not what Julia thinks.

  I’m not special to Johnny. I’m just his assistant.

  You know, I don’t believe that for a second.

  Am I missing something?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I can’t sleep. I’m tossing and turning. I feel like he’s watching me. He, them, those guys. I want to scream. I want to run. I want this feeling to go away. I want to feel normal again.

  I hate that I can’t. I always thought I was stronger than this. I never let other people have this affect on me. Why now? Why these people? Why am I, all of a sudden, weak?

  Because they took away my power. And, I can’t seem to find it again.

  It’s been two weeks, and I don’t think I’ve slept more than an hour at a time since that night. I go to work, and I do what Johnny asks of me. I even bought a can of hot chocolate mix with a measuring spoon so that his nighttime protein shakes have just a little less than a packet of mix in them.

  “See, I told you that you’d figure it out.” He winks at me.

  I don’t argue. I don’t sass him. I just nod and go on with my assigned tasks.

  I work, I eat… sometimes, and then I go home, constantly checking around me to see if I’m being followed.

  It’s silly. It’s ridiculous. I was barely even hurt. My bruises have disappeared and I’m left with nothing more than a few healing scratches. So why can’t I shake this? Why can’t I just get over it?

  Why can’t I go back to being me?

  Thanks to Netflix, and my inability to sleep, I’ve watched the entire first three seasons of Criminal Minds. Unfortunately, that show doesn’t really make you feel better about the world… or your own safety. I actually think it might be contributing to the nightmares. But, otherwise I’d be just staring off into space. That’s probably worse… probably.

  Melissa keeps stopping by to check on me. It’s nice of her, but the way she looks at me just makes me feel as though I’m a shelter dog that no one wants to adopt.

  Why’d I make that simile? Now I’m sad.

  Anyway, I begged her to stop coming by, told her I needed more time. I needed to be alone. After about a dozen times, she finally respected my wishes, but now I wish I made no such request. I miss her. I’m lonely and I’m scared.

  And, it sucks.

  I start to pace my floor, praying that this weight on my chest will just finally lift and I can move on with my life. I want to be the person I was: the person who read the Times, the person who ate cereal any time of the day, the person who chose breakfast over showering. Now, I choose neither. That, or I spend three hours not washing myself, but just letting the stream of water hit me.

  I think I’m hoping it’ll wash me away.

  I grab my keys. I don’t know why. It’s after midnight. I shouldn’t be leaving my house. I’m actually too scared to leave my house, and yet the fear is not as strong as the emptiness, and I finally decide that I can’t let myself be this person anymore. I won’t let it take over me. I won’t let it become me.

  My car starts and it feels… good. I’m doing something.

  I turn on my high beams and pull out of my parking spot. I switch on my Pandora station, trying to remember a time when I sang along to the music. I drive the streets I have come to know so well, even in my perpetual fog. It’s a little chilly tonight, but I keep my window open just a crack. It makes me feel alive.

  Honestly, it makes me feel something.

  I slowly drive by the little alley where it happened, secretly hoping that the group would be there, and I could run them over. I’d blame it on driving while tired, or texting. I’m pretty sure if I squeeze out some fake tears, I could get away with it.

  And if not, it would be a great plot for a television pilot!

  But they’re not there. My fantasy remains a fantasy for another day.

  The vibration of my phone on my lap startles me, and I look down to see a picture of Nick on the screen. It’s after three. Why is he calling me?

  “Hello?” I put the phone on speaker.

  “Oh, so now you answer.” He sputters.

  “Nick. Are you drunk?” I don’t have the mental capacity for this right now.

  “Drunk on love.” He gives the word ‘love’ two too many syllables.

  “Listen, it’s late. I’m going to go.”

  “No. No. You stay right there.”

  I pull into a parking spot on the street.

  “What do you want, Nick?”

  “Why didn’t you ever call me?” He whimpers right into the receiver.

  “Well, you broke up with me on my answering machine. That might have something to do with it.” I snap at him.

  “It wasn’t real.” He sounds like a sad, whiney child.

  “Go to bed, Nick. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “You’re going to call me?” He keeps up his whiney voice.

  “I’ll call you.” I am barely paying attention.

  “I love you.”

  I don’t say it back. I can’t. He’s not on my mind. My sights are set on something much greater.

  “Bye Nick.”

  I hang up. I take a deep breath. I check my mirrors to make sure no one is lurking outside of my car.

  Then I step onto the sidewalk. I walk to the door. I ring the buzzer.

  “Hello?” His voice crackles on the other end. I feel a jolt of electricity spring through my body as I prepare to respond.

  “It’s Caroline. Can I come up?”

  The door buzzes open.

  I take the stairs. He’s only on the fifth floor, and for some reason, I have energy that I desperately need to exert. I feel empowered, enlightened.

  For the first time in two weeks, I finally am coming back to myself.

  The door is open when I reach the top of the stairs, and Johnny is standing in the doorway.

  He’s wearing a tight white tee shirt that clings to his cut muscles, and a pair of light gray sweatpants with a drawstring hanging out of the front. His hair is shaggy and in his face, and his eyes are half closed, as if I woke him up.

  But his look is of concern.

  “Is everything okay? What happened?” He steps toward me.

  I’m quickly alarmed, as this Johnny is not the one I see everyday in the studio lot. This Johnny is not the one who yesterday threw his daily script pages at me because I highlighted them in yellow and not green. This is the Johnny that carefully rubbed ointment on my ribs and asked his sister to drive my car out to my apartment. This is the Johnny that made me wonder if there was something to Julia’s comment about me being “special”.

  But that’s not the Johnny I need right now.

  “Are you okay?” He asks again, obviously worried that I have yet to respond.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Then… then what are you doing here?”

  I see a quick glimmer in his eye, as a knowing thought comes across his face. He’s a man, and a good-looking one at that, and there are only a handful of reasons a girl would show up at his apartment in the middle of the night.

  “I’m not here to have sex with you, Johnny.”

  His face drops. It’s kind of cute.

  “Then…”

  I cut him off as I confidently step into his apartment.

  “You’re going to teach me how to fight.”

  I smile the first real smile in maybe my entire life.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Now? You want me to teach you how to fight now?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes.

  “Not right now, no.” I half laugh at his worried look. “I just mean…”

  I stop myself and look around at the darkened apartment. It’s the middle of the night. What did I think was going to happen? Did I want to start now? Did I think he would just have boxing equipment sitting next to the door, ready to be used at a moment’s notice? Or did I really just come over here to ask him to train me sometime in
the near future, and now I’m going to go home? Am I really going to go back out there alone and walk to my car? Am I ready for that? In this darkness?

  I feel the weight come back to my chest. My breathing becomes labored. The room starts to spin.

  That jolt of adrenaline that got me here without the slightest ounce of fear has dispelled, and all that is left is the person that had spent two weeks curled up in bed, jumping at every odd crack or creak. I feel my knees try to give way, and I grab onto Johnny’s arm for stability.

  “Caroline? What’s happening?” Johnny places his hands on my shoulders, helping to steady me.

  “I just… I wanted to…” I look at him, helplessly. I can’t pretend I’m okay; I’m not. Not yet, at least. “Can I stay here tonight?”

  He pulls me to his chest and hugs me. He’s never hugged me before, and I didn’t ask for a hug. But wow, it’s exactly what I need.

 

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