It takes me a few seconds to move from my spot and finally go in the shower. I stand under the piping hot water until my skin is bright red and the fog in the bathroom is too thick for me to breathe in before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. I don't bother checking if it's clean or not and dry myself up with it before looking at the clothes Brad brought me: a pair of grey sweatpants, a white shirt and a pair of boxers. Despite how hot my skin is after the shower, I can feel it burn even more at the thought of wearing his underwear. I decide to pretend I didn't see them and slip on my own panties that are not as soaked as I expected before putting on his sweatpants and shirt. I make sure to tie the sweatpants' chord tightly around my wait to avoid them slipping down and make my way out of the bathroom and onto the living room expecting to see Brad, but the room is empty. I follow the sound of a kettle to the kitchen where I find Brad, a cup in each hand.
"Tea?", he offers when he sees me.
My eyebrows furrow. Are we going to ignore the fact that Joaquin or his guys beat him up? Or the fact that Joaquin is onto me now? And that therefore Isaac will soon be too?
"I didn't take you for a tea kind of guy", I answer while he pours boiling water in the cups, making him smile.
"And I didn't take you for a killer kind of girl", he answers as he hands me the cup and starts walking towards the living room.
Fair enough. I guess that makes two of us then. Before Charlie's death, I would never have even hurt a fly. And I still wouldn't. But Reggie doesn't deserve compassion or kindness. He's a murderer, and deserves to die for what he's done to my family, and the families of God knows how many other people. Will I be capable of killing him when given the opportunity? You'd asked that a few weeks ago I would have said yes without the shadow of a doubt. Today, I'm not so sure anymore. I'm way above my head here, and it's scaring me to no extent.
I follow him to the next room and sit next to him on the sofa, my back against the armrest so that I can face him, holding the steaming hot cup in my hands. I stare at the water progressively turning a darker shade of brown until Brad breaks the silence.
"Tell me what happened", he says and I bring my attention up from the cup and meet his eyes.
He is looking at me intently, nervous as to my answer.
"I'm so sorry", I say for probably the tenth time tonight.
His eyebrows furrow again, as if he doesn't understand why I am apologizing.
"Why do you keep saying that?", he asks, genuinely surprised. "What are you apologizing for?"
This time it's my turn to look at him confused.
"If I hadn't told Joaquin I know you, him or his guys wouldn't have—", I start to say before marking a quick pause. "They wouldn't have done this to you"
Brad is looking at me with an even more confused face than before.
"What?", he says, putting his cup on the coffee table. "Joaquin and his baboons have nothing to do with this. Wait—", he continues, his face suddenly turning white. "He knows you're with us? Why the fuck would you tell him you know me?'", he adds, suddenly sounding furious.
"He didn't leave me any choice!", I defend myself. "He said one of his guys saw us talking on the street and he asked how I knew you and what you wanted"
How can he think I'd just tell Joaquin about him? How about telling him my plans of getting Isaac his drugs back while we're at it? Then what he just said hits me.
"If it isn't Joaquin or his guys who did that to you, who was it?"
Knowing him, he might lose it on me and tell me it's none of my business. Which would only be fair. I don't know him. Actually I don't know anything at all about him except for the fact that he is in a gang, works for Reggie and knew my brother.
"Fuck", he simply swears, passing his hands over his face and completely ignoring my question. "That's why he hit you? That piece of shit—", he adds, suddenly standing up from the couch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!", he keeps saying, pacing around the living room.
His reaction is freaking me out. I'm not scared he's going to lose it on me, I'm scared of what it means. If Brad is freaking out, then it means I'm really in trouble. I can feel tears threatening to spill once more.
"You were right", I say as I bite my lower lip to control its shakiness.
Brad suddenly stops pacing around the room and turns to me.
"I am just a little girl who doesn't know what she's doing. I fucked up. I don't know how to get out of this and now people are getting hurt because of me", I add, a flow of tears now running down my bruised cheeks.
Brad closes the distance between him and the couch and crouches in front of me before cupping my face in his hands and brushing my tears away with his thumbs.
"Hey", he says to get me to look at him in the eyes. "I told you my fucked up face has nothing to do with Joaquin. And if someone has to apologize here, it's me. I put you in this situation", he adds, making me raise an eyebrow. "I shouldn't have cornered you after school the other day. Joaquin is not the only one who saw us"
"I mean there were a lot of students out that day—", I start to answer but he cuts me off.
"Isaac saw us", he finally admits with a sigh.
"I don't understand. Who cares if he saw us, he knows I'm with you guys"
Brad's jaw clenches. He is hiding something from me.
"Brad, what's going on?", I ask as he stands up again and passes his hands in his hair in frustration.
He looks at me for a minute, unsure whether or not to tell me. His face looks defeated.
"It's more complicated than that", he finally half-answers.
"Then explain it to me!"
It doesn't make any sense. Why would Isaac beat up Brad for talking to me? I am clearly missing a piece of the puzzle here.
"You guys are on the same side", I add, totally lost. "They talk to me all the time, why wouldn't you be allowed to talk to me?"
He still doesn't answer, leaned against the wall, looking at the floor lost in his thoughts.
"Are you gonna tell me or not? Why would they do that to you?", I ask, more to myself than to him, really.
What possible reason would Isaac have to do that? They're part of the same gang. Or... My heart skips a beat.
"They know who I am", I finally realize, unable to breathe anymore.
I am fucked. I am so fucked. If Joaquin doesn't kill me, then Isaac will. If he knows who I am, how long will it take him to understand why I have been so eager to meet his boss? If he hasn't figured it out already.
"Joy", I suddenly hear Brad exclaim to catch my attention and I realize he is crouching in front of me again, only holding my hand this time. "They don't know. I promise you they don't. You wouldn't be here if they knew"
"Then why—", I try to ask but Brad cuts me off again.
"I'm on probation", he finally admits as he lets go of my hand and sits down on the edge of the coffee table right in front of me.
I look at him not able to hide my confusion. He's on probation? What does that even mean? Did he go to jail?
"Reggie knows—", he starts, looking at the floor, unsure of how to tell me whatever he has to tell me. "They know I helped Charlie", he continues and I gasp, bringing his eyes to mine. "It's alright, he's not gonna kill me. Not yet anyways", he adds casually, as if he were talking about the weather.
My heart is beating at an abnormal pace in my chest and I feel like I might get sick any moment now.
"But he— You—", I stammer, my head buzzing with unanswered questions. "How?"
"How he knows?", he asks and I nod. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that they're watching my every move and I can't keep on protecting you from this. Isaac thinks I'm trying to get you to turn on them"
I froze again. That's why Isaac warned me to not be playing them the day after he saw me with Brad. It all makes sense now.
"And now it's only a matter of time before Joaquin figures out you're with us", he says, almost to himself. "Fuck", he shouts again as he abruptaly stands up from the coffee table. "I told you to leave weeks ago, didn't I?", he says, frustration clear in his voice. "Why didn't you leave when I told you to", he adds, and I know it's not a question.
I suddenly stand up too, anger rising. He has no right to talk to me like that. I might have made very poor decisions, but he is no one to tell me what to do.
"Excuse me?", I say, stunned by his words. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Stop pretending like you care about what happens to me when all this time you were just worried about your own ass. Because what will your boss do to you when he learns you knew who I was since day one huh? You've tried to make me give up on my plans— to make me go home only to protect your fucking ass, stop pretending otherwise", I say, fumes coming out of my ears.
My chest is heaving from anger and frustration, and only now do I notice how close to him I am. I didn't even realize I had walked towards him when I said those things. His dark eyes are focused on mine, his jaw clenched. Both our chests are moving up and down fast, and I can tell by the look on his face that he is struggling to keep his composure.
The next thing I know, his lips are on mine and I am too stunned to even move away. Too stunned, or enjoying the contact of his lips on mine too much? 'Fuck' I think to myself when I realize it's the latter. His kiss is soft, but not as gentle as my nose would have liked. He must have sensed it as he moves away not even a second later, and I am left panting and lost.
"You're wrong", he simply says as he removes his hands from the sides of my head.
I am too stunned to move, or say anything, and simply look at him looking at me.
"I couldn't give less shit about what Reggie or Joaquin would do to me", he adds, scanning my face with anger.
The way he looks at me tells me he is not angry at me, but at those responsible for my broken nose.
"I can't bear seeing you get hurt", he continues, bringing a hand up and cupping my face with it again, softly brushing my bruised cheek with his thumb before letting his hand go once more.
To say I'm confused wouldn't do justice to how I'm feeling right now.
"I don't understand", I admit. "You've always been such a dick to me"
"I had to. I tried everything I could to get you to leave, but you're too stubborn to listen", he says, not breaking eye contact. "At first it was about the promise I made to Charlie, but it quickly became about more than that", he continues, not helping the pounding of my heart. "I don't want you to get hurt, or worse, Joy. And I obviously can't protect you", he adds, not able to look at me anymore. "You need to leave the city before it's too late. If it isn't already"
"I know", I say and the look on his face changes to surprise. "Don't look so surprised. You said it a million times before, I'm a little girl who's way above her head. And you're right. I've been in so much pain, and it's all because of him. I really thought I could do it, but when Joaquin grabbed my head and smashed it on—", I start to say, not able to finish my sentence, shivering at the memory.
Tears threaten to spill again, and I notice how clenched Brad's jaw is, and how white his knuckles have turned. I pay no attention to it and continue.
"I— I realized then that I'm terrified of dying. I'm terrified of what Reggie might do to me if he finds out, or if I miss or of what might happen to me if I actually kill him, or what Joaquin might do if he learns I've been playing him"
The very thought makes me want to puke, or hide in a closet for the rest of my life. How blind and ignorant can I have been to think I could pull this off? For the tenth time today, my cheeks flood with tears. Tears of sorrow, anger, pain and resilience. I give up.
Brad doesn't hesitate a single second and pulls me towards him before wrapping his arms tight around me. I do the same and hold onto him as tightly as I can as if he were to disappear. How I have grown so attached to him despite him being the biggest jerk, I don't know. But I can't deny the feeling of safety I have when I'm in his arms, feeling I never have anywhere else, not even in my precious bed.