by Beck, J. L.
“Actually…” The detective pauses, and I feel the air in my lungs still, “She’s not in jail, we had to bring her into a closed psychiatric ward after what happened.”
“What? Why? What happened?” I mean, I know she had some mental issues given what she did to me, but still. A psychiatric ward seems to be a little too much.
“Harlow, do you know that it was your father who called her location in?”
Almost absentmindedly I nod, before realizing he can’t see me. “Yes,” I say, after a moment. “I talked to him about Shelby and…” I trail off, not wanting to say the words out loud. Shelby and my father. I’m still so disgusted by the thought, and now I’m even more embarrassed… embarrassed about what kind of man my father is.
“When we arrested her, and she realized that your father was the one who had called us, she had a complete mental breakdown. She was yelling and screaming, saying that she’s in love with him and that she needs to kill you to have him for herself. Then she tried to hurt herself, we had no choice but to send her in to have her mental state evaluated.”
“So, she’ll be there for a while or what?” Banks interjects.
“They’re going to do a full evaluation on her, and then make a decision, but as of right now, that’s where she will be staying. If I have any further updates, I’ll be sure to give you a call and let you know.”
“Thank you, detective,” I can’t explain the pressure that’s been lifted from my chest at knowing that she’s somewhere far away, somewhere that she won’t be able to escape from, and that my father was the one who helped put her there.
A small piece of my heart beats for the man that gave me life because, in the end, he did choose me over her, but it took all of these bad things happening to me for him to do it.
“No problem, have a good day.” The line goes dead, leaving me with nothing more than my thoughts and the three men that own my heart. When I look up, I find all three of them staring at me. Each carrying their own confused expression.
“I was going to tell you,” I start, a pang of guilt hitting me.
“If you wanted to call your father, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to sneak around behind our backs.” Oliver says, and the tone of his voice makes me shiver. I know without even looking at him that he’s disappointed in me. Hell, I’m disappointed in me too.
“What Oliver means to say is that we want to protect you, and we can’t protect you when you’re doing stuff behind our backs. We’re supposed to be a team,” Sullivan’s voice is soft and nurturing, and for some stupid reason, I want to cry. I don’t understand why, but I do. When I look up from my hands again, there are tears in my eyes, and no matter how much I try and blink them away, they continue to fall.
“Fuck,” Oliver mutters under his breath and comes to stand in front of me. He wraps his arms around me, and I breathe him in. My body lights up at his touch. This is what he does to me, what they all do to me.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t hiding it. I just wanted to know if he knew that Shelby was the one to hurt me. I know I should’ve come to you guys, but…”
“Shhh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Oliver soothes, his hand moving up and down my back. It feels good, too good, and I let my eyes drift closed for a second.
“I don’t want to disappoint you guys,” I sob into his shirt.
“Shhh, baby, you’re not a disappointment. You’re as far from a disappointment as it gets.” Banks’ strong voice pierces my ears, and I feel him along my back, his hard body brushing against mine. He brushes the hair from my neck away and presses hot kisses to my shoulder and neck, sucking on the tender flesh along my collarbone. Instantly, I melt into a pile of mush, the tears stopping all at once.
“Can’t cry when my lips are on you?” He teases, and I can feel my insides turning to molten lava. That connection I have to each of them burning hotter and hotter.
“No,” I whisper hoarsely. I’m only vaguely aware of Oliver releasing me, and turning me to face Banks.
“I’m sorry my brothers are assholes. I’ll make it up to you.” Banks’ pink tongue flicks out over his bottom lip, his blue eyes blazing with unbridled need beneath the amusing glint. I want to give in to him. I want to let all three of them have a chance at me all over again… but…
Out of nowhere, a wave of dizziness hits me, and I’m overcome with nausea. Bile rises up my throat, and I know what’s going to happen next. Without even thinking, I shove against Banks and make it to the kitchen sink just in time to vomit up all my breakfast. My stomach twists and I continue to puke until there is nothing but green bile coming up.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” one of them says, but I can’t tell who it is. All I can do is focus on the stupid need to vomit. Banks takes my hair into his hands and holds it away from my face. My fingers grip on to the counter as everything pours out of me. By the time I’m done, my eyes are watering, and my throat is burning.
I know they’re right; the vomiting and exhaustion aren’t normal, and I should get checked out, but a part of me doesn’t want to know what’s wrong. A part of me hopes whatever is happening goes away. Maybe it’s just stress? I mean, what else could it be?
“I think it’s just stress, this is all too much…” I groan, taking the paper towel that Oliver offers me. Wiping at my mouth and eyes, I do my best to make sure that there isn’t any puke on my chin or lips.
“Even if it is stress, you’ve been getting sick a lot lately, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get checked out.”
“What if it turns out to be something more?” I ask, fear ringing my voice. “The doctors told me that I could possibly run into more problems from the accident down the road. Maybe that’s what he was talking about.”
“Then we deal with it.” Sullivan answers, his voice soft and warm, and all I want to do is go to him and let him wrap his arms around me.
Knowing there isn’t any point in trying to fight it, I agree. “Okay, I’ll make an appointment.”
“Thank you, that’s all we want. You are the most important thing to us, and if you’re sick, then we need to find a way to fix it.”
“Sometimes, things can’t be fixed.” I drop my gaze down to my hands. Shelby has been caught, life is good, and yet somehow it all seems temporary like at any minute the rug is going to be ripped out from underneath our feet.
Banks cups me by the cheek, and I nuzzle into his touch. “When it comes to you, everything can be fixed. Let’s get you a shower, something small to eat, and some rest.”
“Sullivan and I will get everything figured out so we can go back to classes,” Oliver announces.
That makes me perk up. Excitement bubbles through me. This is just what I needed to hear.
“Yes, we’re finally leaving and going back to classes. Now that Shelby has been caught, we have nothing to worry about.”
“We can finally all be together, and attend classes like we were meant to. Everything will go back to normal now. We’ll get to be normal, or as normal as we can be as college students.”
I smile because deep down, I am happy, but I can’t shake the inky dread that something bad will happen. It always does. It always finds a way to ruin the good in my life.
7
“I thought you would be excited to be back in classes?” Caroline says from her seat beside me. She must see the permanent scowl that seems to have taken up residence on my face this week.
Things have pretty much gone back to normal, even Tiffany and her cronies are treating me the same as they always have, no matter how much I try to ignore their jibes, I just can’t seem to. Merely thinking her name makes my brain scream.
“Earth to Harlow, you’re looking at Tiffany like you want to rip out her throat, are you okay?” Caroline’s soft voice fills my ears, and I look away from Tiffany before I do just that. She’s bitchier than I remember her being, and it’s taking everything in me to bite my tongue when she or her barbie brigade walks past me a
nd calls me a slut beneath their breaths. It’s petty and childish, and I just want them to go away.
“I’m fine, just a little… aggravated,” I hiss, trying not to look in Tiffany’s direction.
“Could’ve fooled me. I thought you were plotting Tiffany’s murder there for a second.”
“That’s because I was.” I peek up at Tiffany again. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and laughs loudly at something one of her friends says. Bitches. Mean stuck-up bitches. That’s all they are. “I don’t understand why they have to be such assholes. It’s not like what I do with my life has any effect on them.” I’m merely venting now, and even though I should stop and save it for when I get back to the house, it feels good to let it out right now.
At least I’ll be less likely to reach out and bash Tiffany’s head against the wall this way.
“She’ll forever feel like you stole Oliver from her.” Caroline’s response makes me grit my teeth. “Before you bagged my cousins, she had her sights set on him, and from the look of it, she still does. I bet she hates you for having their hearts when she can’t even get their attention. Never could. Even when they were pretending to like her, all they would talk about was you.”
“Well, maybe if she wasn’t being a raging bitch all the time, she could get a guy to like her for more than her mouth or the thing between her legs.”
“Amen to that,” Caroline mumbles. “Maybe we should tell her that…”
Grinning, I shake my head. The last thing I need is more encouragement. I spend the rest of the class trying to ignore Tiffany and concentrate on the outline for my English literature paper instead. When the professor announces we’re free to go, I’m so relieved I practically sag in my seat. Who knew ignoring someone could be so draining? Then again, I guess the ignoring part wasn’t my problem. It’s more holding back my anger, so I don’t end up getting booted from the school.
Gathering my stuff quickly, I start to get excited when I realize that I’ll be seeing the guys in a few minutes. Like every day, we all meet for lunch, something that’s slowly becoming my favorite part of the day.
“In a hurry to get to your boyfriend?” One of Tiffany’s friends snarls, her voice condescending.
“Please, Claire, don’t be ridiculous and call them her boyfriends,” Tiffany decides to add her input. “She is nothing more than their little plaything. Don’t you remember how they used to talk about her? How we used to make fun of her with the guys? They don’t want her, at least, not like they would want you or me.” I can’t help myself. I look the bitch right in the eyes and just stare, wishing I could show her just how much they don’t want her.
“Why don’t you guys get lost,” Caroline snaps. “You’re just jealous because she has what you want.”
“Ha, jealous? Of her?” Tiffany’s nose wrinkles and I clench my free hand into a tight fist. Don’t slug her. My muscles burn, as anger pulses through me. Concentrating on not wiping the smug smile off her face… with my fist.
When they move to leave, Tiffany digs her shoulder into my arm in a feeble attempt to knock me over, but my body is too rigid, and the only thing she accomplishes is making my backpack slide off my shoulder.
“Oops,” she snickers and walks off as the bag slides down my arm and on to the floor.
God, I hate her.
“Congrats on having as much self-restraint as you do. I thought you were about to fight her for sure,” Caroline tells me when they leave, and we are the only two people left in the classroom.
“Yeah, I’m surprised myself,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe I just didn’t want to be late for lunch. I’m starving. My stomach’s been growling for the last hour.”
“Girl, you’ve been all about the food lately. That wouldn’t have anything to do with you meeting the guys for each meal, would it?” Caroline giggles.
“Maybe,” I grin.
We speed walk across campus to get to the sandwich shop where we are meeting the guys. As it turns out, a walk is exactly what I need. The fresh air helps me clear my head and cools my simmering anger toward that witch. When we arrive at the shop, all three of the Bishops are standing out front, waiting for us. Banks spots us first and gives me a panty-melting smile, and my mind goes blank for a moment, forgetting all about Tiffany and her group of barbies.
“Hey, you two,” Oliver greets us when we are only a few feet away.
I have this animalistic urge to give each of them a kiss, but we haven’t been that comfortable with public affection while we are out in the open like this, and it’s not because we don’t want to be seen with each other or because we’re hiding that we are together.
It’s more because we don’t want to draw any type of attention to us, and having three boyfriends will definitely do that.
Walking into the restaurant together, Oliver spots a table in the back that will fit all of us.
“How was your class?” Sullivan asks as I take a seat and read over the menu.
Before I can answer, Caroline opens her big fat mouth, “Tiffany was being a major bitch last class, but other than that, today has been fine.” I give her a side-eye.
Why can’t she keep her mouth shut? This is just going to worry the guys further.
“What do you mean she was being a bitch? Is she bothering you again?” Sullivan asks concern etched into his handsome features. Part of me wants to sweep it under the rug and tell them it’s nothing, but if I don’t tell them and they find out later, I’ll feel bad for having not been honest.
“Well, it seems as if she is under the impression, I stole Oliver from her, so she’s trying, like always, to pick a fight. That’s all. There’s no reason to worry. Can we eat now? I’m going to eat my left arm off if I don’t get something in my belly soon.”
“I’m sorry, Harlow… This is all our fault,” Oliver huffs, looking away from me as if he is too ashamed to look at me. My eyes catch on his shiny brown hair as he runs a hand through the thick strands. When he looks back at me, I can see the regret pooling there. “I kind of pretended to like her.”
“It’s in the past, this is the present, and we are only looking ahead, and from where I’m sitting, the future is looking pretty good,” I smile. “I mean, I do see a delicious Italian sub in the near future…so...” The waitress must have heard me, because just then she walks up to the table, a tablet in her hand, ready to take our orders.
For the rest of our lunch together, we don’t talk about Tiffany or anyone else we don’t like. Everything seems to feel better when I’m with the guys. Being with them reminds me that no one here is worth risking my happiness for.
Only after I’ve finished every bite of my sub, do I realize that Sullivan seems oddly withdrawn, barely looking at me and not even finishing his sandwich. I’m about to ask him what’s going on, when he pushes his plate away and gets up from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. My eyebrows draw together in confusion.
Where is he going?
“I’m gonna head out. I want to get to my next class a little early. I’ll see you later,” he doesn’t really speak to anyone in particular and starts walking away before any of us can respond. It feels like someone has stabbed a tiny knife into the corner of my heart. It doesn’t really hurt, but it leaves a noticeable ache behind.
That’s what Sullivan has just done to me. He’s left an ache behind, and I know without even asking that something is going on with him.
“What’s wrong with him?” Oliver asks out loud what I was wondering silently.
Banks shrugs, clearly not worried about his brother’s behavior. “His grades are probably slipping. His mind has been occupied as of late,” he grins at me, and I can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood. “You know how worried he gets about his perfect GPA.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he has to be rude,” Oliver growls, shoving a spoon full of soup past his lips.
“I just hope he’s okay. I’ll talk to him later tonight,” I announce before taking a sip of my soda
.
“We better get going too,” Banks leans over and whispers into the shell of my ear. His hot breath fans against my skin and goosebumps erupt across my skin. The next class we have together, and the thought leaves me feeling all warm inside. I’ll be able to hold his hand for the next hour, and if that’s not a good way to make it through calculus, then I don’t know what is.
* * *
Even with Banks by my side, calculus is unbearable. Numbers are just not my thing, and while I luckily have Banks here to give me a little extra help, it’s not going to help me pass the tests that I’ll have to take on my own. I need to focus, to digest the words that are being spoken.
If Banks can sense my confusion and disappointment in myself, he doesn’t let on. Class seems to go on forever, and come the end when I’m gathering my things, the only thing I want to do is go back to the house with the guys and sleep.
With everything in my backpack, I step into the aisle and head for the door. I’ve made it a total of five feet when Professor Clarkson calls my name.
Gritting my teeth, I walk to the front of the room where his desk is. As soon as I reach his desk, my stomach starts to churn. The smell of his cologne is overpowering. It’s like I’m stepping into a cloud of some cheap masculine fragrance. The odor is so overwhelming that I don’t even want to open my mouth and talk.
“Miss. Lockwood,” Mr. Clarkson greets, “I just wanted to make sure you are doing okay with the work now. Your homework from last week was inconclusive, and you seemed to be having a difficult time in class today as well.”
Great. Of course, he needs to point out how horrible I am at this.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, concentrating on not throwing up all over his brown suit.
He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, heck, I don’t even believe me.
“Are you sure? I can recommend you to some study groups or assign you a student tutor. If you start to fall behind, catching up will be difficult, and I don’t offer extra credit. I would hate for you—”
