Jaded

by Tijan

  He searched the dining room. I could see his shadow get bigger until it engulfed where I had kneeled.

  I scooted back until I was curled in a small hole just underneath the bench, in between two of the bins.

  Jimmy couldn't have seen me unless he walked into the back hallway and knelt literally right in front of me.

  "There's an entire hallway back here," he cursed to himself.

  He swept a flashlight beam up and down the hallway. It hit on some of the bins and just as he started down the hallway, his radio crackled, "The police are coming. We have to go, Jimmy."

  Jimmy continued to curse, but turned and sprinted from the hallway. It only took another second until the front door slammed shut and I heard two pairs of vehicles squeal from my driveway.

  I slowly crawled back from my hiding spot. My legs trembled so much, I couldn't quite stand so I crawled to one of the windows and pulled back the curtain.

  I saw a lone figure dart across my yard, but it paused just before the shadows. It turned and I swear that it looked right at me. Startled, I dropped the curtain back in place and scooted into my hiding spot. I hugged my knees and rested my forehead against them until I heard my doorbell ringing.

  My heart still pounded in my ear, but I was able to hear the doorbell.

  Glancing up, feeling the blood drained from my face, I felt like weeping in relief when I saw the circling red lights of the police.

  They rang the doorbell again and then knocked on the door with their batons.

  It took me longer than normal because my legs were so unsteady, but I finally opened the door for them.

  There were two of them. One was an older muscular guy that was balding on the head. His partner was a young blonde female. Both looked fit. Then I looked again and saw their grave expressions. The female stepped forward and asked, "Miss, we got a call from your security company. Can you tell us why it went off?"

  The male stepped back and raised a hand to the radio he had clipped to his shoulder. I heard him requesting back-up officers.

  "I…," I had to cough and clear my voice. "I…there were men in my home and I was the one who set the alarm."

  "Are men still in your home, Miss?"

  "No." I shook my head. "They heard the alarm and left."

  "Could we do a quick search, Ma'am?"

  I nodded and stepped from the front door onto the patio as both of them moved inside cautiously with their guns drawn and ready beside their hips.

  It seemed forever, but the alarm was silenced and the female officer returned.

  "My name is Officer Patterson. You can call me Sheila, if you'd like."

  I nodded and sunk onto one of the patio loungers.

  She stood above me. "Can you tell me what happened?"

  I told her most of it. I left out the details about my mother, but I told them I had trashed most of my parent's belongings in the office and bedroom.

  Sheila gave me a questioning look and raised an eyebrow. "You trashed your parent's belongings?"

  "Just the important ones. I'm…they're getting a divorce and they told me over a voice message," I said numbly.

  Sheila nodded like it made perfect sense. "We'll need you to do an inventory of what you damaged and cross-reference it with forensics to see if the burglars took anything or damaged anything further."

  I nodded. Whatever.

  "Do you have someone you'd like to call? We'll need you to come down to the station for an official report."

  "Can I go in and get my cell phone?"

  "Officer Milon will escort you inside, Miss Jeneve." Sheila nodded and stepped off the patio just as two more police cruisers pulled into the driveway.

  As we walked around the kitchen and down the back hallway, I shivered as I passed my hiding spot. I knew that guy, whoever he had been, had seen me.

  Once I got my phone, I was led back outside and into the front seat of Officer Sheila's car. That's when I called Corrigan's number first.

  It rang and rang so I left a message.

  I called Bryce next and he answered after the second ring.

  "Sheldon?" he asked, tiredly. I heard him yawn and could envision him sitting up against his headboard.

  "My house was broken into tonight."

  "What?" He was wide awake now.

  "Can you—can you meet me at the police station? I have to go there for a report."

  "Yeah, yeah. Of course." I could hear him already dressing. "Are you okay?"

  "Just come down, okay?"

  "Okay. I'll be there as soon as possible."

  "Thanks."

  "Yeah. Sheldon—"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm glad you're okay," he said sincerely and it nearly broke me right then and there.

  Hoarse, I murmured a thank you and hung up.

  The police station looked different arriving as a victim rather than to post bail for a friend. It looked scary, threatening, and I had to blink back tears for the fourth time as Sheila parked her police cruiser.

  She had me sit beside a desk and had left to get me a cup of coffee when Bryce walked through the door in sport pants and a hooded sweatshirt.

  It was amazing really. I shouldn't have noticed, but immediately some of the cops turned a watchful eye on him. It was something about him—he exuded a silent demand about himself. It made sense that cops would instantly tune into that demand and be alert.

  He ignored them and found me with his eyes.

  Giving me a tender smile, Bryce nodded to me when one of the officers questioned him. The cop let him through and Bryce was beside me in a flash. He lifted me up and I was hugging onto him for dear life. I hadn't realized that I had wrapped my legs around his waist until Sheila coughed discreetly behind us.

  "Let go, Sheldon," Bryce murmured in my ear and I unwound my legs.

  Sheila gave us both a small smile and indicated a chair beside another desk for Bryce to grab. He did and he sat beside me, leaning in his chair, looking relaxed and a little bored.

  As I gave my official report, I saw that Sheila frowned a few times in Bryce's direction, but she never made a comment. Bryce was either worshiped or disliked. He wasn't a bad guy, he just came off as one to people.

  We stayed at the station for an hour. Bryce had looked at me strangely when Sheila had asked me to list the items that I had damaged. They wanted to know where I had placed the computer's hard-drive, when my last communication had been with my parents, when my mother was returning home, and etc.

  Sheila asked if I had a place to stay. They'd want to get back into the house the next day.

  Bryce spoke for the first time, "She'll stay at my place."

  "What?" I asked. "With your mom there?"

  He shrugged and seemed to settle back in his chair.

  "Alright." Sheila gave Bryce another perusal, but only said, "We'll contact you if we think of any more questions."

  Bryce stood and waited for me. He followed behind with a hand in the small of my back as we made our way into the waiting area. Just as we turned the corner, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sheila frowning. Her eyes locked and held with mine. I contained a shiver from the dark concern in those eyes.

  Just as we pushed through the doors, we watched as Corrigan drove past us and slammed on his brakes. He was out of the car in a flash and left his door hanging open to rush over to us.

  "Are you okay?" he asked as he swept me in his arms much the same as Bryce had. My legs didn't wind around his waist, but I hugged him tightly. He squeezed once more and as he sat me down on my feet, he ran a hand over my hair. "I got your message. I was so…"

  "I'm fine. Really," I said with a gracious smile. I was getting there.

  Bryce asked, "Where were you?"

  Corrigan's gaze switched to Bryce and he straightened abruptly. His hand fell away from me as he took a step backwards.

  "I was sleeping. What's your problem?"

  "She needed both of us, a-hole. You should've been here."

  "What a
re you pissy at me for?" Corrigan asked, confused and slightly defensive.

  Bryce opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and walked towards his car.

  "What is he mad at me for?" Corrigan switched his confusion to me.

  I shrugged and wrapped my arms around me. "He wants to blame someone."

  Corrigan rolled his eyes and shot out, "He shouldn't blame me. I'm not the one who broke into your place."

  I winced.

  Corrigan swore. "I'm sorry, Sheldon. I wasn't thinking."

  I shrugged him off. With a tight grin, I said softly, "Its fine. I'm fine. I'm alive."

  "Sheldon!" Bryce called from his car.

  "Where are you guys going? Do you need a place to stay?" Corrigan scowled in Bryce's direction.

  "I'm going to stay at his place."

  "With his mother?"

  He understood too.

  "That's what I said, but whatever."

  "Oh…okay. Well, if you need help, call me." Corrigan flashed a reassuring smile and hugged me once more. By that time, Bryce had pulled the car beside us and I smiled grimly at Corrigan as I got inside.

  The ride was quiet, but I was okay with that. I wasn't up for conversation, not at that moment. At one point I shivered and Bryce quickly switched the heat on.

  I fought back tears and then cursed my own weakness.

  When Bryce pulled up to his house and as he parked in the garage, I asked, "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," Bryce said firmly.

  At the door, he grabbed my hand, shut off the garage light and opened the door. He didn't turn the lights on inside, but led me through his family's kitchen, dining room, and down to his bedroom.

  He turned the light on when he closed his bedroom door.

  Bryce started to change clothes and I moved into his bathroom.

  When I came back in, he stood up from his desk and passed behind me.

  I slid underneath his sheets and closed my eyes. The routine was so familiar and I knew it's what I needed. I fought back tears again, but rolled over to bury my head in Bryce's pillows.

  It didn't take long before I heard the bathroom door open and his light switched off. Bryce slid in beside me and tucked the sheets around us both as he flipped on his stomach to lay one arm over my waist.

  I sighed and tucked my head against his shoulder just before I fell asleep.

  Chapter 12

  Both of us jumped awake to a slammed door.

  "What the hell?" Bryce groaned and ran a tired hand over his face. When his little sister let loose with a blood-curdling scream, he sighed again and moved to the edge of the bed.

  I yawned and curled on my side as I pulled the bedcovers over me again.

  Bryce stood up, shirtless, in his basketball shorts and padded barefoot out the door. He banged on a door and I heard him mediating between his seven-year-old sister, Savannah, and his fourteen-year-old brother, Luca.

  The two were water and oil. And their mother never helped. She either scolded, threatened, or placated. She never disciplined. That was what Bryce told me once and I'd seen enough to agree with him.

  From what I could overhear, Luca was sick and vomiting in the bathroom. Savannah needed the bathroom because she felt the same. And a second later Bryce's bedroom door flew open and Savannah let loose another scream as she scuttled to an abrupt stop on her way to her older brother's bathroom.

  "Mooom!"

  I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head.

  Savannah stayed put.

  "Mom! Mom! Mom! Bryce has a girl in his bed! Bryce has a girl in his bed! It's her, mom!"

  Savannah might not have liked me, but AnnaBelle Scout liked me even less. In fact, I think she hated me at times and secretly, I didn't think it was because I was tight with her son. I think she was just jealous I wasn't ladylike and I still got her son.

  Bryce swept into the room, tucked Savannah underneath one arm, and removed her. He shut the door and I heard him talking on the other side.

  There was silence and then Savannah screamed again, slightly muffled, "Mom! Mom! Quick, before she jumps out the window."

  "Shut up!" Bryce snapped.

  A second later, he walked inside and sat on the bed's edge.

  "I am not hiding from your mother," I said softly, seriously.

  "I know." He yawned and ran a hand through his Mohawk, which looked flat in the morning.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Bryce groaned deep in his throat before he stood and opened the door.

  There was AnnaBelle Scout, a shimmering brunette vision. Her glare was ominous as she stood, already prim and proper in her silk chiffon dress and perfectly manicured hairstyle.

  All in all, his mother was petite, beautiful, and the perfect lady.

  She never drank. She never smoked. And I really thought that she'd never had sex.

  "Bryce Elliot Scout." It was all she said.

  "Mom…" Bryce started, exhausted.

  I huddled in the corner and glared from underneath his bedcovers.

  "You know how I feel about this girl," she continued sternly. "I have resigned myself to the fact that you insist on a friendship with her, but I forbid you to further any romantic notions. You need a good girl with morals and a family upbringing that meet your standards."

  "Your standards, Mom," Bryce argued as he stood and looked at his mother. "This is my life. You've already got my future mapped out, but this is my life right now."

  "You're a bitch," I said softly.

  AnnaBelle gasped and whirled to me. Bryce had taken the heat from me and even shifted on his feet so she wouldn't look at me. I was done with him taking the heat for me.

  "Excuse me?" she asked coldly.

  I sat up and knew the skimpy tank-top would enrage her further. Sweetly, I said, "You heard me."

  Bryce frowned, but he didn't say anything.

  "I will not tolerate disrespect in my home—"

  "Then get out," I interrupted quickly and let the bedcovers fall to reveal my underwear and bare legs. I regretted not wearing a thong instead of my boxer underwear, but at least they were made of black lace.

  Her eyes widened.