3. j o k e s o n y o u
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A slight shiver rattles through the bones of my body as a breeze sweeps through the wind and crashes against my body.
My hands dig deeper into the pocket of my hoodie, seeking out warmth, but find little solace in the thin fabric.
The jacket had felt a lot more warming alongside a bottle of vodka, but now the effects were wearing off, and so was the burning warmth of the alcohol I had been chugging in hopes of drowning out my desire for revenge.
The cold wind calls for me to go back home with every harsh breeze that blows pass me. It sends threats through striking crisp whips against my reddening cheeks, and swooshing my shoulder-length strands in all directions before tickling my scalp with its frozen embrace.
I should go home, but I can't. I don't want to.
Not until I find a way to quiet the anger that was steadily bubbling inside me.
Not until I find a way to settle the score as much as I could as a mindless drunken person.
As I round the corner- stepping from the pitch black streets onto the brightly illuminated diner walkway- I know I can't turn back. Not now.
The heady taste of revenge on my tongue strums too perfectly against my dormant tastebuds. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, sending a hot flash through my shivering body, feels too arousing for me to turn around and leave.
A smile begins to rise onto my lips as I walk closer to Captain Garvin's. I peek through the dirty small glass windows on the side of the building, watching as a horde of men drink, laugh, and ogle at the cleavage and ass of their servers like they did almost every night after work as a sort of reward- a reward I'm sure none of their significant others would appreciate.
I let my eyes sift through the crowd of men, glancing at all their faces until I land on the only one that matters; Officer Gael Herrera.
It takes a second before I notice his dark figure sitting in the very back of the bar. He sits around a group of men I presume to be his coworkers, merely from their uniforms and the fact that they were even around him. People in town didn't usually venture out to new acquaintances unless they had to, but work was a viable reason to be friendly and accept someone new into their "exclusive" groups.
I let my eyes linger on Gael for a second, noticing the time I stand glaring at him, he hadn't spoken a word to any of the men around him as they all banter back and forth.
He silently sits around the crowd of people and chugs down the chilled bottle of corona as if he were a statue. He has that tired look in his eyes again, and I wonder what exactly he's thinking in this moment.
Maybe he was thinking about how he was too good for all the county cops sitting around him.
Or maybe he was thinking about his hometown and what the people he used to know were doing.
Or perhaps he was simply thinking about how the beer he was chugging wasn't a strong enough substance to get him through the rest of the night.
Or maybe his mind was just blank, filling up with a deafening silence that was slowly eating away at his mind, until he could barely even sense the difference between reality and his unconsciousness.
I close my eyes as a breath of air blows past my lips. I shake his image from my head, push away from the glass, and turn in the direction of the parking lot where a sea of cars remained parked.
I know exactly what I was looking for as I grab for my phone from my back pocket and flick the flashlight on, casting its bright glow in the direction of every car as I swiftly move through the parking lot.
It takes an excruciating three minutes to find, but when the beaming light of my phone landed on the sleek, black Mercedes, I squeal in excitement as the realization of what I'm about to do crashes through my body like a gallon of aged whiskey.
I walk closer to the vehicle, letting my fingers skate along the pristine paint job from the car's hood until I reach the driver's side door.
I cup my hands against the window to get a better look inside as I press my face toward the tinted glass and immediately roll my eyes at how perfectly clean the interior was.
God, everything about him makes me sick with how unblemished his life is. From the perfect car to the nicely trimmed dark hair, down to the flawless uniform and shoes he wears every day. I bet he even ironed his underwear every morning before work.
He makes me sick.
Growing more annoyed, I bend down to my knees and touch my fingers to the clean door.
Too perfect for his own good.
I dig into the back pocket of my jeans and yank out the Swiss Knife I had stolen a couple of years back from my father's shed- when he used to be home and used things like tools around the house like a real dad was supposed to.
I swipe the blade against my fingertip, checking the razor's sharpness as it scrapes against my flesh and brings forth a bubble of crimson blood.
I suck it off my pointer finger before gripping the knife handle and stabbing it straight through the front tire.
It slips through with a little bit of force and lets out an airy hiss as I twist it for good measure, until the air quickly begins flowing out and flattens the tire completely. The action makes me feel so alive that I quickly hobble over to the one in the back and give it the same treatment.
In seconds, the car begins to sag lower and leans heavily over to the right due to the unevenness of the tires.
I smile.
The anger and frustration inside of me dims down a little, but I still want more.
There's a thirst that still needs to be quenched before I could stroll home with peace of mind.
Without stopping to think for even a second, I slide my knife against the door and begin quickly scratching a message into the paint.
It takes more force than I had expected to carve the letters visibly into the heavy metal, but that makes me want to work that much harder to get what I had to say out in the most perfect way.
A few minutes later, I stand back onto my feet and look down at the silver inscription on the vehicle.
'U R AN ASSHOLE'
I read the words aloud and fight back an evil smirk as I picture Gael's reaction once he came stumbling out of Captain Garvin's.
I wonder what curse words he would shout once he came face to face with the mess I had left. I wonder if he would even know it had been me who had left him this special gift.
I blow out a breath of cold air as I walk over to the front of the car, letting the moment of thrill cause me to do more than I had initially planned. I lean over the hood and give it the same attention as I had to the driver's side door.
'DICKHOLE'
It read this time. It felt like the most appropriate word I could conjure up at this moment for a man such as himself, and suddenly my high was finally able to come down peacefully.
I no longer feel the need to drown out my emotions of fury and irritation; to scream into the darkness of night until I got the strength to suck it up again. No matter how temporarily calm these outbursts make me feel, I still basked in every second I spent with the temporary contentment.
"-wake up early. I'll see you guys tomorrow in the precinct." a manly voice comes booming from the bar's entrance and shakes me from my momentary tranquility and back to reality.
I hurriedly stuff the knife and phone back into my pants pocket and quietly jog through the parking lot, until I find my way back onto the dark streets that leads me back home, and away from the crime scene when Gael finally comes out of the diner.
I pull the thin hood over my head and dip my trembling hands into the opening of my hoodie as I quickly turn back and check to make sure no one was following me, or had seen me for that matter.
A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I'm met with the company of silence and emptiness. I turn back forward and begin picking up speed, until I'm practically jogging back to my house.
A strike of lightening flashes through the otherwise midnight sky and briefly paints it in a blinding flickering light. A visible shiver races through my body as rain begins to pour down a few seconds later, soaking through my hoodie in heavy droplets.
"Fuck this!" I scream as I tightly grip onto the hood of my sweater and pick up speed, not caring how I looked as I race down the increasingly wet sidewalk.
Despite the freezing rain and the water seeping through my clothes, I couldn't fight the smirk that raised onto my lips.
I just hoped Gael would like his gift...
♢
Deafening music blares through the otherwise quiet house as I lay sprawled out atop the couch reserved for only my company.
It's the only room in the house that makes the place feel like a home, and not just some empty shell my parents built and decorated to uphold an image of themselves.
I lift the full-size bottle of vodka to my lips and gulp down a long pull of the burning liquid. I almost instantly feel the warming substance coat my throat and chest with the hot promise of euphoric dizziness as it glides into my empty stomach.
I take another sip and slowly begin to feel the slight buzz start to flutter in the depths of my lower belly. The sensation is addictive and coerce me to take another chug, until I couldn't even remember all my wrongdoings of the night.
Wrongdoings I know would one day catch up to me, but I couldn't think long enough to care about the potential consequences.
Not in this very moment, at least. Not when I hold the answer to forgetting it all in a tall glass container that was beginning to taste like water the more I drink it.
I feel a drunken smile lift onto my lips as I go to press the bottle to my mouth again. My eyes begin to grow low with exhaustion and drunkenness as I sink deeper into the cushions as if it were opening up to embrace me.
Everything felt right.
Everything felt numb, but I'm at peace. I'm maybe even content. I'm perhaps even okay to get through another day.
I feel my eyes droop lower, lulling myself to sleep as the couch beneath me cradles me. My eyes flutter close as it welcomes the much needed sleep I yearn for, but a second later, I'm ripped from my almost unconsciousness as the annoying shrill alarm of the doorbell goes off and interrupts my perfect night.
I groan in protest and roll my eyes as I press my body deeper into the couch cushions and wait for the ringing to stop.
Ring!Ring!Ring!
After a few excruciating minutes, the piercing shriek of the bell doesn't stop. The person behind the door doesn't seem to have any desire of wanting to leave anytime soon, and suddenly my calmness is being replaced with flaming anger and unreleased curses that yearn to be belted out.
I angrily sit the half-empty bottle down onto the cluttered coffee table, using a little more force than needed, then stumble over to the front door where the ear-splitting ruckus continues.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" I scream furiously as I quickly swing open the door to reveal the nuisance behind the nonstop commotion.
My eyes widen in surprise as my blurry eyes glare back at Officer Herrera. His usually pristine appearance is rugged in all the right aspects of the word as he stands silently fuming on the porch.
His usual slicked back, and dark strands are now messily draped onto his forehead and clinging onto his wet skin. His crisp uniform is soaked and tautly adhering to every inch of his contoured body as the rain softly beats down on him.
He doesn't seem to care, though. He doesn't even bat an eye as the droplets wash over him and further ruins his attire.
I zero in on his face, watching as a drop of rain collects around his eyebrow bone until a second later, where it falls to his perfectly pink lips.
I feel goosebumps prick against my exposed skin, but I instantly shake the thought away before it can develop into something more... it was only the vodka talking.
For once, he looks untamed and almost... feral. His amber eyes were terrifyingly piercing as he glares unwaveringly at me, even though his figure was only illuminated by the dim porch lamp. Despite that fact, I could almost make out every frowning line etched onto his solid face, and the deep scowl stretched across his full lips.
He was furious.
"It's the middle of the night, for God's sake! Why are you ringing my door like a madman!?! Don't you have some stupid teenage parties to shut down or something?" I yell angrily when he doesn't say anything, but simply sends dark stares at me.
"I know it was you. I know you've been messing with me since I crashed your fucking party," he grumbles sternly after a second of angrily charged silence.
"I don't get paid enough to deal with a bratty little girl like you! If you want to continue with your small little jokes, so God help me because you won't like how I'll punish you for it." his hands raise into a clawed gesture almost as if he didn't restrain himself they would have been around my neck instead.
For some sick reason, I almost crave the contact of his manly hands around my throat; staring unwaveringly at me as he speaks menacingly into my ear that I've been a 'bad girl' and how I need to be punished for my actions.
His warm, thick hands would leave a red mark around my neck, and he'd force me to wear it around as if it were a necklace he specially made for me. I wasn't proud to admit that that scenario sounded more appealing to me than it should have.
God, stop it.
I shake the twisted images from my head and focus my attention back on Officer Herrera. Those types of thoughts had no place in my mind, especially not with an asshole like Herrera.
He takes a deep breath, then drops his hand by his side in a balled fist. His face is still visibly etched in fury; his eyebrows scrunched low on his face, his lips in a snarling frown, his deep eyes piercing my soul with a promise that if I ever stepped out of line again, there would be consequences.
"I'm sorry someone in town is missing with you, but it's not me, Officer. I've barely even left my house recently, especially after you arrested me for a harmless party." I bat my eyes sweetly and shrug my shoulders as I feign my innocence.
He has no proof, and even if he did, he ruined my night, so I was going to continue to ruin his. It was petty of me, but my drunk mind couldn't find a single care to give.
And besides, I wanted to break the rules to see if his promise had been real or not.
"I don't have time for your childish games, Chandler. Stop this now, or I'm taking you in. I don't care if I have evidence to back me up or not... I'm tired of your bullshit!" his voice is rigid and dark as he demands all that he wants from me.
For some reason, I like it. Maybe because everyone else threaten me with empty promises, but his were real. He had done it before, so there was nothing stopping him from doing it again.
It was like a shot of adrenaline knowing I stood a thin line between getting on his bad side- the side that separates him from his Officer morals and more towards the carnal man that laid deep beneath the surface- and his good side.
I clench my legs together as the little control I had begins to slip away from me and instead takes refuge in my pants.
I never know what I want, but suddenly I did, and it was standing right in front of me for the taking... at least for one night. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or the untamed manner of his visit that had my mind in an aroused frenzy, but I knew it needed to stop.
"Officer, I didn't do i-" before I could finish my sentence, he grabs me by my shoulders and has me pushed midair against a wall with his heavy, wet body pressed tightly against mine to keep me restrained.
My chest heaves violently, and my eyes snap shut at the sudden action. One second I had been standing by the door, and next... I was being pressed into a wall within my own house by a man I barely know.
"Open your eyes, Chandler, because I'm not going to repeat myself!" His command strums harshly through my ears, and not a second later, my eyes spring open and glare over at his glowering expression.
"Your party got shut down, so fucking what! Grow up and stop thinking everything is supposed to go your way. This town has spoiled you, and I'm here to change that. Nobody deserves unfair treatment because they have daddy's money, and you've been living with that privilege for too long." he then drops me back to my feet after he finished what he needed to say, but he stays close enough to where I could still feel his warmth seep through his uniform into my skin as he continued to hold my unblinking eyes within his.
As he stares down at me, I suddenly become frozen against the wall as I wait for him to make his next move. "Please don't make me have to come back here because next time I won't be so nice," he whispers the words into my ear, blowing his cool breath against the shell of my skin and leaving it hot with a blush.
I feel my head shakily nod as I remain silently pressed against the cold wall.
I'm locked in the trance of his fierce stare, almost against my own will, becoming enthralled by his honeyed irises. They're a mess of brown hues mixed in one, and I for sure know that he's hiding more behind those eyes than he'd probably ever willingly admit.
He lets out a grunt in response as he pulls away from me fully and begins to walk away, taking his warmth with him, "Wait!" I call out in a low and husky voice, and it doesn't sound like me anymore.
He turns around quickly, and the colors come rushing back into my cheeks as I blink back at him. "I-I'll try not to cause you too much trouble from now on, Officer," I blurt out randomly, not knowing why I suddenly want to heed his command so eagerly when I had been denouncing his existence mere hours ago.
He slowly blinks in my direction, letting his eyes quickly scale down my body before he drops them to the base of his boots. "Yeah," he replies as he turns on his heels and heads back to where he came from.
Fortunately, the rain had long since stopped during our little altercation, so he could walk home without the promise of being soaked...
But I couldn't say the same about myself, though.
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A little- actually a very- chaotic chapter... and we're re only on #3, so just imagine what more craziness is going to be happening in this story.
Besides that...
thanks for reading so far and I hope you're enjoying this mess <3
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Also, yes I know she's a Brat, but we all have our moments like that ;)
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