Chicks, Man

by J. D. Hollyfield

  “For what!” I yell. Something’s not right. I shift my attention to Levi, a silent plea to please tell me what’s going on. This is more than just them finding out about us.

  Levi coughs. Bending forward, he grabs his wounded ribs and wipes blood from his nose. “A sexual harassment complaint was filed at work today.” My eyes shoot wide open. “It came from you.”

  My knees threaten to give out. “No…I—I didn’t do that.” My voice shakes.

  Kip finally pushes off Levi and stands, reaching for me. “No, fuck him. Don’t take it back because he’s here. It’s done.” His anger directs back to Levi. “Get the fuck out of here. You ever lay a hand on my sister again, I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Kip!” I yell and get in his face, but Levi puts his hand out.

  “Hannah, don’t.”

  “Don’t? It’s not true! I would never. Levi, you have to believe me.” I reach for him, but Kip uses his body as a barrier between us. “Kip, stop. This isn’t true. Levi’s done nothing wrong—”

  “Just let it go, Hannah.” My attention retreats to Levi. “Let it go,” he says again, coughing out more blood, his voice stern. His face bruised and beaten, his arm cradling his stomach, he turns and walks out.

  I twist around to face my brother. “How could you?” My voice is riddled in anguish. “He’s your best friend.” He reaches for me, and I slap his hand away.

  “What the hell, Hannah?”

  “No, what the hell to you, Kipley? You are so wrong about what’s going on. He never did anything to me I didn’t want.” His brows crease, his eyes thin with confusion. “I would have never put in that complaint because I’m in love with him.”

  Stacey gasps as Kipley’s posture stiffens. His hand brushes down his face, unable to grasp my confession. “What did you just say?” Stacey takes a step closer, wrapping her arm around him. She tries to soothe him, but he brushes her off, his eyes laced with anger and hurt. “What did you just say?”

  A heavy feeling settles in my stomach. I knew the day he found out would be hard. For everyone. But I never imagined it would happen like this. I never wanted to hurt my brother over this. But to see Levi so broken down may be worse. My eyes begin to shine with tears, my voice quivering. “I love him. I have my whole life.” Kip stands there, his eyes holding mine captive. His disapproving frown and deep-set gaze has a pain radiating inside me. I try to swallow the emotions fighting to erupt inside me, but tears fall unchecked down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I cry. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

  His brows draw together, and he inhales a staggered breath. “Jesus, Hannah, a childhood crush does not give him the right to force himself on you.”

  What? “No, it’s not a childhood crush. We mean something to one another. I love him—”

  “Okay, that’s enough.” He comes at me again, and I shove him away. He glares at me, his sudden onset of anger aimed toward me. “I’m not going to let you take the blame for this. He’s wrong—”

  “He’s not!” I scream. “He’s done nothing but show me how it truly feels to be loved. To be wanted and cared for. To be noticed.” I wipe a tear off my cheek, taking a moment to breathe. “Those accusations are false. And if you were a better friend, you would have come to one of us before letting your fists do the talking. Shame on you.” I shove my heel into the ground and race out of the bar in hopes to still catch Levi.

  “Hannah, wait,” Kip calls out behind me, but I don’t.

  Once in the parking lot, I search for his car, but it’s too dark, I begin to panic. “Levi!” I yell out, praying he’s close enough to hear me. Maybe his window’s down. Maybe he knows I’d come for him and he’s waiting for me. I yell his name again, but nothing. I reach into my back pocket, but remember my phone’s in my car. I book it toward my car and jam my key in the lock. Throwing my door open, I snatch my phone up and wait for it to turn on, forgetting my battery is dead.

  “Dammit!”

  No, no, no…

  I spin around, the anxiety that’s growing like a disease in my chest starting to suffocate me. Sexual harassment. Punch after punch. My brother’s face of disappointment. “Levi,” I call for him, his name barely above a whisper, my words choked out through my crushing lungs. I can’t breathe. My brain replays the images of Levi, bloody and broken on the bar floor. How is this happening? Who would do this? I try to suck in a ragged breath, but the air is too thick. I grab at my neck, dizziness fueling my fear. I want to scream for help, but I can’t find my voice.

  I need to find Levi. I need to tell him I wasn’t behind this. Make things right between him and Kip. Oh god, what have I done? Stacey warned me. She warned me, and I didn’t listen. I whip around again, gasping for air, my brain seizing to my panic attack. The pit in my stomach is like a grenade detonating, and the havoc I’ve caused has my heart beating too fast. Too hard. My body starts to convulse with the wracked sobs of regret. “Levi!” His name is a hoarse shriek. I spin around, almost falling to the gravel, but two hands wrap around me.

  “Oh, Levi, I knew you would—”

  I turn into Braydon, and my eyes expand in shock, then confusion. “Braydon—wha—what are you doing here? It doesn’t matter. I need your help—”

  My eyes widen when I feel a sudden sting in my neck. “What…?”

  Braydon’s hand pulls back, a long needle between his fingers. “You should have stayed out of this, Han…”

  Levi

  Banging on my door jerks me awake. I grunt as I jolt forward, my bruised ribs causing a wave of pain to shoot through my body. “Fuck,” I grunt, holding my stomach as I slip off my couch. I stumble over a layer of beer bottles and trip over a bottle of whiskey before falling and landing on my side. “Fuck!” Shit, that hurt. Seems drinking myself into oblivion doesn’t erase the wounded pride or injuries from getting your ass handed to you.

  Whoever’s at the door can fuck off. I’m not sure I can get off the floor. My eyes shut, and I doze off before banging startles me back awake. “Jesus, fuck off!” I roll onto my back, and my sour stomach turns, threatening to vomit the overindulgence of booze I took part in. My head is hurting, not to mention my nose, lip, and dignity.

  In the matter of a day, I lost my job, respect from a man who’s been a father to me almost my whole life, and my best friend. Not to mention I probably lost the girl too. Which is well deserved. I knew this could happen. And I chose to go against what was right. I should have come out from the beginning. Instead, I chose to lie to someone who’s been a brother to me…a family who’s done nothing but stand by me when my own wouldn’t even acknowledge me.

  The disappointment in Jim’s eyes with the case. The shock followed by rage when he got the call from HR. If we hadn’t been in his office surrounded by other staff, I’m sure he would have done what Kipley got the pleasure to do, but worse.

  How the fuck did everything go so wrong, so fast?

  Another wave of nausea has me rolling back to my side, ready to yack all over my floor. “Ughhh…” I groan, pulling myself up.

  The banging starts again, like drumsticks beating on my brain. “Go away!” I yell, dragging my sore body to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of beer, still half full, and chug it. “Hair of the dog,” I grumble, throwing the empty bottle into the sink, hearing it shatter.

  Bang, bang, bang. “I know you’re in there. Open the fucking door, Dent!”

  Fuck.

  Kipley.

  I’m not sure I’m in the best shape to take another beating. Even though I deserve more than what he dished out last night. I snag a beer from the fridge and twist the top off, taking a hefty swig as I drag myself to my door. More banging echoes throughout my condo, and I throw the door open. “Come to finish me off?”

  “Fuck you.” Kipley pushes past me, and I almost fall backwards. “Hannah!” he calls out. He aims his scathing anger back to me. “Where is she? Hannah!” he shouts again toward my bedroom.

  “She isn’t here.” I walk back to my
living room, needing to sit down.

  “Bullshit. Hannah! Get the fuck out here now!” He doesn’t take my word and storms down the hallway to my bedroom, shoving the door open and searching my room. A minute later, he comes out.

  “Told you.”

  “Where is she?”

  “How the hell should I know? I haven’t seen her since you kicked my ass and told me to leave your family alone.” I need to shut my anger down. I don’t have the right to play the victim. I deserved what I got. “Just call her phone. I’m sure she’ll answer for you.”

  “You don’t think we’ve done that? Her phone’s off.”

  I fall onto my couch, grunting in pain. “And you think she came here? After I sexually assaulted her and all?”

  “You motherfucker.”

  I launch myself up, ignoring the stabbing in my side and the nausea, and get in his face. But when I stand there, face to face with my best friend, I stand down. “Yeah. I am a motherfucker.” My chest sinks, and I wait for him to strike.

  Silence washes over us for a moment until he speaks. “Why, man? Why my sister?” There’s so much hurt and betrayal in his tone, it feels like he’s beating me all over again. I’d actually take another blow if it took away the betrayal in his eyes. Instead, I stare back at twenty-four years of friendship. The first kid to befriend me in kindergarten by sharing his bag of Doritos. My first sleepover where his mom made me my first peanut butter and jelly sandwich and allowed us to cook s’mores in the house and watch The Karate Kid over and over. The boy who stood by me when my father threatened to kick my ass for taking lunch money when I hadn’t eaten in almost two days. The guy who spent endless nights helping me study my way through my first batch of law school after I chose to let go of a pipe dream. A friend who stood by me through thick and thin, never questioning me or my decisions.

  Feeling defeated all over again, I throw myself back on my couch, using my hands to cup my wounded face. “Why your sister?” I ask. Images of her pouty lips when she’s frustrated and the passion in her eyes that can set a room on fire filter through my mind. “Because as much as I tried to stay away, I couldn’t. I fought it. I knew she was off limits. But her spark for life and enigmatic spirit found its way into my heart.”

  The floodgates of truth crack, and I start pouring out confessions in waves. “I treaded lightly with her. She wasn’t just a girl. She was special. She suddenly became this bright color in my dull world. A warmth that fed my soul and made me feel something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.” I pull my eyes from my hands to find his, hoping he understands. “She made me feel complete in a way I’ve never felt before. What it truly meant to be so consumed by someone, it almost hurt. And eventually, I stopped fighting it. I craved her light. Her warmth. The embrace of someone who truly saw me for me. She did that for me.” I have to break contact. It hurts too much to express how much I love her. I never actually got the chance to tell her, and now I’ve lost her. “I fell in love with her,” I whisper, not sure whether I’m saying it to him or myself.

  “Shit,” Kipley cusses, and without looking up, I feel the cushion next to me sink as he takes a seat. “You’ve got it bad.”

  A pathetic chuckle filters up my throat. I finally open my eyes to glance at him. “You have no idea.”

  We sit quiet for another minute, until he breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “So you could kick my ass sooner?”

  He nods. “True.” There’s another round of silence. “Damn…so you’re really in love with my little sister?”

  “I am.” Fuck, I am. I love her. But it’s too late. I fucked everything up. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with her at the office. Made her feel like I lost trust in her. In us. If she’d just waited for me and we could have talked it out, maybe we could have avoided all this mess.

  “Shit.” Kipley swipes his hand down his face. “Wasn’t expecting this.” Yeah, neither was I, but for some reason, the world decided I needed something good in my life and granted me her. “Say I decide to not kill you for touching my little sister, my next question is—”

  “Hannah didn’t submit that harassment complaint. That, I’m sure of.”

  “But why would—?”

  “Hannah didn’t submit it. Ask her yourself. Yeah, we had a fight. I was angry about the case. Fuck, I blamed my slip up on my distraction with her.” I shake my head, wishing away the horrible accusations I made. The disappointment and hurt on her face when I suggested we take a pause. “I fucking hurt her, but she would never do that. I know she lov—she just wouldn’t.”

  “This is all fucked up, man. If she didn’t…”

  “Someone is setting me up. Ask her yourself. She’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “She never showed up at work today. Never came home last night. My parents are beside themselves with worry. It’s why I came banging your door down. To get her to at least call home.”

  A wave of unease hits me, and I sit up straighter. “What do you mean she didn’t come home? Weren’t you with her?”

  “She yelled at me for being a shitty friend and ran after you. By the time I calmed down and left the bar, her car was there, but she wasn’t. I assumed she left with you. Then Dad called me today, concerned, and here I am.”

  A sinking feeling tightens my soured stomach—and it’s not from the excessive booze or wounds. “I—she didn’t leave with me.” With everything that happened, I forgot about our call. She’d gone to see Clara Hill. Panic begins to flood my system.

  “Dude, you don’t look so good. What’s going on? What do you know?” There’s an edge to Kipley’s tone.

  I replay our conversation. “She’d gone to see a witness.”

  “And that’s bad because…?”

  My voice shakes. A thickness in my throat makes it difficult to breathe. “The witness—the case—we were fighting about—she pulled out—”

  “Okay, you’re starting to freak me out. You’re not making any sense. What does this have to do with Hannah?”

  I stumble as I stand, a ripple of dizziness smacking me in the face, causing me to trip.

  “Whoa, slow down, man.” Kipley steadies me, but I slap his hand away. My eyes are frantic, searching for my phone. I spot it on the floor and practically dive for it, dialing Hannah’s number. It instantly goes to voicemail. “Come on…” I hang up and dial again, but it doesn’t even give me the satisfaction of a single ring before her voicemail picks up.

  “Levi, you’re starting to scare me. What the fuck? Is Hannah in danger? Do you think something happened to her?” This time, Kipley’s voice is strained. I wish I could alleviate his worry, but I can’t. Kipley’s phone breaks our stare down, and he snatches it from his back pocket. I pray it’s Hannah telling him she’s fine. “Hey, Dad.” Fuck. “Yeah, she’s not here. I know…she’s not this careless…sure.” He pulls his phone away to speak to me. “He still hasn’t heard from her. She’s still on my parents’ phone plan, so he’s called the cell company to locate her. Everything will be fine.”

  We both wait, holding our breath for Jim to come back on the line. I don’t realize my hands are trembling. “What’d he say?” he starts back up, and I stay super close, needing to hear him say she’s all right. “I’m headed there now.” He hangs up and faces me, confusion setting in. “Her phone pinged at Jake’s bar.”

  “What? Why—?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go.”

  Hannah

  There’s an entire orchestra playing in my head. Not the good kind either. So much banging and pounding. I groan, turning to my side, hoping to block out the bright light coming from my window. Something restraining my arms stops me, and I groan louder, tugging at my hands, a sharpness around my wrists causing me to wince. What in the heck? I open my eyes, the light sending a zap of agony to my brain. Fighting through the pain, I force my vision to focus on my surroundings and lift my head. My hands are bound by thick rope and tied around a headboard.

&
nbsp; “Oh my god,” I gasp, tugging at the restraints, groaning at the tear of skin around my wrists. Terror ignites in my chest. Fear overwhelms my body. Ignoring the ripping of my flesh, I begin to tug harder. “Help!” I call out, the sound of my voice etched with panic. How did I get here? How long have I been like this? My head is too foggy to grab any memories or reasoning. My chest starts to pound, stealing the air from my lungs. “Help!” I yell again.

  “Don’t bother. No one can hear you.” I’m suddenly paralyzed by the familiar voice. My head veers to the side, causing more dizziness to slice through me. “Oh my god, Braydon, what’s going on? Help untie me please.” He doesn’t make an effort to move. A chill skates over my aching skin. My throat swells. “Braydon, untie me.”

  A slow smile spreads across his face, filling me with dread. I pull at my restraints, grasping for any hint of a memory. “Braydon, this isn’t funny, untie me!” I force my voice to sound stern, but he can hear the shiver in my tone. My body shudders with dread at the way his predatory eyes stare at me, almost as if he’s staring right through me.

  How did I get here?

  Think, Hannah, think!

  Dammit!

  I can’t even recall what day it is. My lower lip begins to quiver. “Braydon, why are you doing this?” How long have I been here? Does anyone know I’m missing? “I thought we were friends?” My comment agitates him. He starts pacing, and that’s when I see the shiny metal in his hand. “Braydon…” I beg, the last of my cool evaporating. I tug harder on my shackles, kicking my feet to free them from their ties. When his focus lands on me, his eyes are wild. I don’t have time to register his quick movements. My shrill scream is deafening as he jumps toward me, his arms raising and thrusting down, the large knife slicing mere inches from my side.

  “Oh, come on. You know I wouldn’t hurt you.” He yanks the knife out of the mattress. “Unlike him. He left you there, upset. Turned his back on you. I would have never done that to you.” What is he talking about? Who left me?