Hurting You

by Beck, J. L.

  “I-I work here. In the cafeteria.” She nervously bites at her lip. I wonder what she’s thinking, aside from the fact that we’re crazy and she’s scared.

  “I guess we’ll see you around then,” Easton smiles like we just met up for lunch and are now saying our goodbyes.

  Stella seems unsure of what to do. “So, you’re letting me go?” Surprise coats each of her words.

  Easton cocks his head to the side, “Unless you think we are making a mistake by letting you walk away?”

  She shakes her head, “No, no! I won’t say a word. I swear!”

  “Good. I doubt anyone would believe you anyway. I mean, it would be the word of two students against the word of a poor girl,” I tell her. I don’t know why I said it like that, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret being so condescending. Her eyebrows draw together, and her lips form a tight thin line like she’s offended by what I said. I shouldn’t care, but somehow, I do. Shoving those feelings down from where they came from, I wave her away.

  “Off you go then,” dismissing her like a parent does their child. She stares at me for a moment before taking a hesitant step back. She’s watching me as if she thinks I’m going to pounce on her any second now. “It’s not a trick, you can go,” I assure her.

  She gives Easton and me one last look, before turning around and running back inside. I watch the door close behind her, wondering if we just made the biggest mistake of our lives. If she says anything, we can kiss our future goodbye, but if she doesn’t, maybe we could… No, I don’t even want to think about it. I can’t have her and won’t have her.

  3

  Stella

  Driving home, I feel as if I’m losing my mind. Even in a moving car, I find I’m looking everywhere, waiting for something to jump out and get me.

  Not something. Someone.

  “Stop being paranoid,” I mumble to myself. They let me go, surely, they won’t seek me out again, so long as I keep their secret, which shouldn’t be a problem since I’m not planning to say anything to anybody. Not only did I leave my DNA and fingerprints all over the place, but like blond guy pointed out so eloquently, it’s the word of two rich guys against mine. These two probably have an army of lawyers behind them, while I have, well… nothing.

  So, you tell me, who is going to believe anything I say? No one, that’s who.

  I take a little longer getting home, driving around aimlessly just in case someone might be following me. I’m terrified out of my mind, but there isn’t anything I can do. After a short while, I feel secure enough to go home, and a few minutes later, I drive up to my grandma’s simple one-bedroom house, which is essentially my house too since I’ve lived here for the last sixteen years of my life. Putting my old piece of shit car in park, I take one more deep breath before opening the door and getting out. I cannot have a mental breakdown in front of my grandma.

  I can’t. As soon as I open the front door, my nose wrinkles; the smell is pungent and hangs in the air like a heavy fog. Something is burning, and even though I’ve just stepped inside the door, I can see the smoke wafting from the kitchen. Not again.

  I don’t know if it’s because I’ve already spent my amount of panics for the day or because this isn’t the first time this has happened, but for some reason, I don’t freak out. I just walk into the kitchen and take the smoking pan off the stove.

  “Grams?” I call for her, but she doesn’t answer. I’m not worried though. She’s always here, somewhere. I turn off the hot plate and open the kitchen window to air the smoke out. Then I head for her bedroom.

  Cracking open the door, I find her lying in her bed, peacefully asleep. Sneaking into her room, I take a seat on the edge of the mattress. Her eyes open almost immediately. A sleepy smile tugs up her lips.

  “Hey, pumpkin, I just laid down for a nap while you were in school,” she explains. I don’t correct her, and I don’t tell her about leaving the stove on before taking a nap, because she doesn’t remember anyway. And she probably won’t remember this tomorrow either.

  “How was your math test? Did you get a good grade?”

  “I’m not going to school anymore, remember? I graduated.”

  “Oh, you did? When is the graduation party?” she asks, her voice pitched with excitement. The party was months ago, and she was there, but again she doesn’t remember, which hurts my heart.

  “It’s soon, Grams… soon.” I rub her arm, wishing I could fix her broken mind. “I’m going to make us something to eat, okay? Come out when you’re ready.” I give her a soft smile, which she returns, and I leave the room.

  The sadness I always feel when seeing her like this surrounds me. It’s so strong that I almost forget what happened to me earlier today. Almost. How did my life get so fucked up? Why can’t something go right for once? I cook, and clean, and talk to Grams until she falls asleep again, but nothing eases my mind.

  My body is so tired, exhausted, and all I want to do is go to sleep, but my mind is going at a million miles per hour. I can’t seem to shut it off, to find peace, even for a second. I’m wide awake, with no chance of sleep in sight, so I do the only thing I can.

  I toss and turn on the pullout couch. I’ve been sleeping in the living room for a while now. There is only one bedroom, and it used to be mine, but with Gram’s state of mind and me getting up early for work, I let her take the room. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, yes, it’s not the most comfortable thing, but I’d rather it be me than Grams.

  I try to calm my mind, but every time I close my eyes, I see them… and I don’t know if I’ll ever get them out of my head again.

  * * *

  The sun rises, shining brightly through the windows, but I’m in no way, shape, or form ready to get up. Probably because I haven’t slept yet. The worry inside of me is eating me alive, threatening to swallow me whole. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the day. All I can think about is last night. Those two boys, the dead body, whatever they were doing, and the fact that I have to go back to Blackthorn for work.

  But I think the possibility of seeing them again is what worries me most. It’s not like I can just quit my job and go somewhere else. The pay is good, and it’s close to home, but I don’t know that I can stomach seeing them again.

  Ugh, maybe I can manage to find another job on one of my days off, but for right now, I need to get ready for the day and drag my butt to my current one.

  By the time I leave the house, my grandma is still sleeping. I made her breakfast and left a note on the table; hopefully, she’ll find it and won’t try to burn the house down again. She’s been doing good lately, but the risk is there every day. Someday she’s going to do something, and I won’t be here to stop her.

  Hurrying to the car because it’s still freaking cold outside and my sweater jacket doesn’t do much to protect me from the harsh morning air, I get in and start the engine, I blast the heat, turning it to high before pulling out of the driveway. Now that it’s light outside, I feel a little less paranoid but not much.

  As I drive to work, I’m consumed with fear. Who were those guys? What were they doing with that body? Did they really kill that other person? I have a thousand questions that won’t ever get answered because no way in hell I’m going to ask them, and the option of going to the police is completely out of the question.

  If I’m going to survive this, I’m going to have to force myself to forget what happened.

  The closer I get to Blackthorn, the more my fear consumes me. When I pull up to the employee parking lot, my heart is beating so fast, my chest is hurting. I’ve got to get my shit together before I walk in there. Otherwise, everyone will know that I’m losing it, and something is up.

  Checking the time, I realize that I’ll be late if I sit here any longer, so I take a deep calming breath and get out of the car. For every other step I take, I look over my shoulder once. Scanning the area for one of the two guys. Expecting them to jump out from behind a car and around every corner
I see.

  I purposely take the side door instead of the back alley. No way I’m going back there unless I absolutely have to.

  “You left the trash bag on the ground outside,” Paul, the kitchen manager yells at me, as soon as I step inside. The sound of his voice startles me, and I clutch a hand to my chest to keep my heart from springing out of it.

  “What?” I gasp, trying to hide my fear.

  Paul’s gaze drifts down to my chest, where my hand clutches my shirt, and, for a moment, I feel weirdly exposed. I know he is not looking at my hand, but my boobs. I hate when he looks at me like this, it gives me the creeps.

  Finally, he raises his eyes, for a moment, I see the lust flicker in them before his gaze turns stern. “I said you left the trash bag outside on the ground.”

  Oh shit. With everything that happened last night, I completely forgot about the trash. “I’m sorry, it was too heavy, I couldn’t lift it into the dumpster.” It’s not a lie, but I still feel bad for letting him down.

  “Some critters got into it. There is trash all over the back alley. You need to go and clean it up before you clock in.”

  “But… I need my full pay…”

  “Either that or we need to come to a different arrangement,” he says, licking his lips. I almost throw up right then. What an asshole. I’m not sure what arrangement he is talking about, but I’m sure that I don’t want to know either.

  “I’ll clean it up before clocking in.” I force a smile, but it hurts to make my lips go that way. The one place I wanted to avoid is the one place I now have to go back to, but that is still better than staying here with Paul.

  Grabbing some gloves and some smaller trash bags from the storage room, I go out back. I half expect the two guys to be there, waiting for me, but they aren’t, and their car is gone. Thankfully. The alley looks different in the light, but it still gives me the creeps.

  As quickly as I can, I clean up the mess and deposit all the trash in the dumpster, trying not to look at my dried-up vomit that’s next to it. When I come back in, I toss the gloves in the trash and wash my hands, wishing I could wash the memories swirling in my head away too. Paul is already hard at work, and so I start in on my duties for the day right away.

  Before it gets busy and most of the students come in for breakfast, I quickly refill the condiments, cutlery, and napkins. I carry a box of everything, so I don’t have to make multiple trips. When everything is full and organized neatly, I put the remaining stuff back in the box and turn to leave.

  I’m just about to disappear into the storage room when a couple of students cut in front of me, one of them slamming their shoulder into me, knocking the box out of my hands and onto the ground. I watch in horror as a stack of napkins, and about a hundred straws go flying across the floor in every direction.

  “Oops, sorry,” the guy mumbles but doesn’t even stop to offer to help pick up the mess be caused. Cursing under my breath, I drop to my knees and start picking up the stuff, tossing it into the box with an angry vengeance.

  “Here, let me help you,” a female voice pierces my ears, and before I can look up, a girl appears next to me. Crouching on the hard ground to help me pick up what I dropped, she mutters with a frown, “What a jerk, right?”

  “Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to help me. This is my job.” I tell her.

  The last thing I need is to be reported for ruining some Blackthorn royals lunch. I need this job; my livelihood depends upon it.

  “It’s not your job to deal with meatheads like him though,” she jokes, and for the first time today, I smile. While I’m picking up the napkins, I peek over at the beautiful girl helping me. It doesn’t take much for me to know that she is definitely a student here. Manicured nails, a designer handbag hanging off her arm and, perfectly curled black ringlets of hair that makes her appear as if she just got back from a high-end salon.

  She looks like the typical Blackthorn student, rich, beautiful, and successful. Everything about her screams high class. The only thing that is different is that she actually stopped to help me, instead of walking by like she was better than me.

  “Willow…” Some guy calls out from behind us, getting our attention. I look up to find the mystery guy standing at the door, holding it open with one hand. There is a darkness in his eyes, and he watches me like a frog might watch a fly as it flies around its head. “We’re going to be late for class.”

  “Oh crap, I got to go,” the girl tells me and dumps what she had picked up into the box.

  “Thank you!” I call after her before she grabs onto the guy’s hand and gives him a kiss on the cheek. I watch her, and the guy who is obviously her boyfriend, disappear, the door falling shut behind them. Stupidly, I let my mind run rampant with thoughts and wonder briefly if she knows how lucky she is to have all the things she has. Hurrying, I pick up the rest of the stuff and tell myself to stop thinking of a life I will never have.

  I spend the rest of the day washing dishes, peeling potatoes, cutting onions, and carrots. Usually, I wait to get the trash until everyone is gone, but today I don’t. I go around the cafeteria and empty out every last trash bin, gathering them all by the door, so I only have to go outside once. Part of me wants to ask Paul to do it, but I know better. It’s my job, so I’ll suck it up and do it. It’s not like it’s dark out yet.

  Grabbing the bags, which, by the way, feel like they weigh more than me, I shove through the back door. I look both ways and hurry over to the trash can. I start to toss the bags into the dumpster, the sound of shoes crunching against the asphalt pierces my ears. Like a crazed woman, I whirl around, one of the bags of garbage still in my hands.

  Lord, please help me. It’s the two guys from last night. They’re standing near the only entrance into the building. My only exit. Have they finally come to kill me? Tears well in my eyes. They have, they’ve decided that I can’t keep my mouth shut.

  4

  Easton

  “I… I didn’t tell anyone,” is the first thing that comes out of her pretty little mouth. Big pale eyes and golden blonde hair that curls at the ends give her an angelic look. I remember how soft it felt in my hands last night, and I have the urge to touch it again.

  I can’t take my eyes off of her. We’ve been on the lookout for her all day. I barely slept last night, wondering if we made the right choice. And I’m not talking about killing James, that was no doubt the best choice for everyone. The guy was a total creep and a number of other things. No, I’m talking about letting that blonde-haired angel go. If she talks, we are in some seriously deep shit.

  And that’s exactly why we’re here right now. We need to make sure she keeps her pretty little lips sealed.

  “We figured you wouldn’t tell anyone, because you’re a good girl. Aren't you, Stella?” I ask her, loving the way her name rolls off my tongue. I can see her squirm from where I’m standing. Cam and I agreed on taunting her a little, making sure she stays in line. Fear is a powerful motivator, and as long as she’s afraid, she’ll do whatever we tell her to do.

  “Yes, I won’t say anything. I swear!” she squeaks and drops the bag in her hand in the process. She doesn’t make a move to grab it, and I enjoy the sight of her frozen, struck with fear.

  Would she look at me like that if I touched her right now, or would she melt beneath my fingers? Every time I thought about her today, it stirred something up inside me, and it’s not just fear of her going to the cops. There is something about her, something that draws me in, something I want. My interest in her is strange, foreign but intriguing, and quickly turning into an obsession. Something I can’t stop thinking about, something I need to have and can’t let go.

  What the fuck are you thinking, idiot?

  “We still wanted to swing by and remind you,” Cam tells her, pulling me from my stupid induced thinking.

  “You don’t have to remind me, I won’t forget,” she says, her voice hesitant like she’s not sure if she was supposed to speak at all.

>   “I mean, there are other ways we can keep you quiet… you can’t talk with a dick in your mouth.” Her gaze widens, almost as if she didn’t expect me to go there. “We could fuck you if that’s what it takes, fuck you into silence. You are pretty, and I’m always looking for something new to sink my dick in to.”

  “N-nnooo…” She shakes her head, her golden hair flying everywhere. “I won’t tell a soul, you don’t have to… to do that.” I almost bust out in laughter at the red in her cheeks. Is she embarrassed talking about sex? Wait, maybe she’s a virgin...that would be the icing on this cake.

  “You sure?” Cam licks his lips and gives her a smoldering look. He is, after all, the smooth talker. Asshole has chicks coming on his dick every night. Of course, I can’t complain myself.

  Stella nods, “I won’t say anything, just please, don’t hurt me.”

  “It would only hurt a little. Mostly it would feel good… really good,” I promise her. “But we understand. We’ll let you get back to work then, just don’t forget to keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, we’ll find something to fill it with.”

  I dismiss her like she’s nothing to me. Cameron and I both take a step away from the door, giving her a walkway to go back inside.

  She nods, her eyes darting between the two of us like she is trying to see who is going to attack first. When we don’t move, she starts walking toward us. I can see her knees shaking from here, but she doesn’t stop once. When she passes us, she’s so close that I can smell her shampoo and perfume or whatever that heavenly scent is. It makes my mouth water, and I’m tempted to reach out for her and tug her into my chest.

  Her steps are small and slow, up until she is past us, then she scurries to the door like she’s suddenly in a hurry. She pulls the heavy metal door open, but before she can step foot inside, someone screams from the kitchen.