(2999 words)
"Take my hand and come with me.
Because you look so fine that I really wanna make you mine."
Chris Sturniolo
"What should I do?" I panic into the air, my eyes frantically examining the clothes that keep getting pushed side to side from my hand. I yank out one of my tee shirts, it was a bright orange and black lettering on the back.
Fuck. It's too 'in your face'.
"For starts, calm down." Matt mumbles from my bed, scrolling through his phone like he was the calmest person in the entire world. "And wear that with those baggy pants you have, boom- you have an outfit."
"It's too bright! It'll attract too much attention!" I shake my head, stuffing it back into my closet and turning my head to Nick who's also going through his phone with his back pressed against my bed's headboard.
"Didn't you meet these people at that sketchy bar we went to?" Nick mumbles, not even bothering to look me in the eyes to have a proper conversation.
"Yeah, that bartender that offered to give me free drinks when she spilled her own." I explain again, running my fingers through my hair and sitting down next to the two.
"Okay, and where are you going?" Nick asks another question, finally disconnecting from his phone and looking at me.
"Santa Monica Pier," I inhale deeply, counting my breathes like Matt had taught me. "One, two.."
"Hopefully you don't get your wallet stolen again, that sucked." Matt pitches in, leaning himself back until he was laying down on my bed.
He looks at me for a response as I keep my eyes on my lap, feeling my body begin to relax with my calm breathing. "You okay?" Matt furrow his brows.
I nod, shutting my eyes and lifting my head up, "I've just never hung out with new people without you guys there,"
"Do you want us to come?" Nick scoots himself closer to Matt and I, putting his arm over my shoulder gently.
I nod rapidly, thinking that the night would go much better with my two brothers there with me. If something weird or awkward happened, they'd be there for me- same with if something bad came up or these people tried to pull a fast one on me, I'd be protected with my brothers.
"Okay, why don't you call and ask if we can come? If you don't want to go alone then just say that you promised us, before you went to work, that you'd stay for movie night." Matt comes up with an entire plan, keeping his voice at that gentle and comforting tone he's always used to make me relax and not panic.
Matt knows firsthand how bad panic attacks can get and how they can come out of nowhere when you least expect it. That's another reason why I don't want to be without my brothers, we all know how to deal with each other's problems.
Nick and I know not to bicker when Matt is struggle to keep himself together.
Matt and Nick know how to calm me down when I'm stressing out.
Finally, Matt and I know to stay out of Nick's way when he's angry.
"Okay, slight problem there." I breathe out one last heavy sigh, peeling my eyes open and turning towards the two. "I don't have their number,"
"Fuck- Chris!"
Ivy Brooks
"Maybe he's tricking us," Sophie jokes, staring at the seemingly never ending dark street that Chris lives on, the only thing keeping everything barely lit up was the dim streetlights that came up every few blocks or so.
I'm in the back for some reason, I never agreed to help and cure Sophie's annoying carsickness. I swear, that is the reason why every guy has left her. She always has a headache or her stomach hurts and god forbid she has a paper cut.
"That would be fun," I nod, smiling out the window with my ears tuning in the low music playing through the car's speakers. It was a slow song that Jackson always played before a mission or a task.
It was kind of his ritual, he explained it to us once we got annoyed of hearing it constantly and when he tried fixing it by wearing headphones, it was impossible to get his attention to tell him that he missed a turn or remind him to stop five blocks away.
"It's the calm before the storm," he said.
I understand that. I think when you live the life everyone dreams about that is filled with gunshots and chaos, you need a certain section of your life dedicated to allowing your mind to stop clicking for awhile.
The car comes to a slow stop, the large house painted white was sitting in a large lawn of green grass with a white picket fence- the american dream, right?
"Okay, honk." I breathe out, turning my head down to my phone that was sitting on my lap, my thumb scrolling through my notes app that had everything we knew about Christopher Owen Sturniolo.
"What- no!" Sophie exclaims, my eyes darting up to her looking at Jackson with his hand already on the center of the steering wheel. "We have to make a good first impression,"
"I already have," I mumble, "Jack, do it."
"Jack, don't." Sophie huffs, turning her body over towards me. "You spilled a drink on him, that isn't something to be proud of."
"Sophie, it's cold outside." I lie, trying to keep myself from having to get out of the car and introduce myself to whoever else is living in there with him. With that big ass shining mansion, he's definitely not alone.
"Jack give her your jacket, or better yet-" She spine back around and in seconds, I see the large fluffy pink throw-up she calls a jacket come flying towards me.
I roll my eyes, slipping my hands into the long sleeves and then opening the door. We all step out, Sophie giggling happily and I cross my arms over my chest, "Still feeling sick, huh Soph?"
She nods, "Oh yeah, I'm about to throw up right now actually." She gives me one of her signature winks before skipping towards the front door like she owned the world. We get that feeling a lot.
"You think she'll fall for this saint?" Jackson leans down to me, following by my side as we make it up to Sophie who's jumping in place, barely able to wait for what's to come.
I furrow my brows and smile, nodding. "Oh definitely,"
Jack chuckles, hitting the door with his knuckles a couple of times before stuffing his hand back into his jacket's pocket. We stand there for a few seconds in silence, the sound of Sophie digging into her purse was the only thing besides the nightly crickets whirling around the night.
Then suddenly.. "They're fucking here!"
My eyes widen and my head snaps towards Sophie who was frozen in place, a unlit cigarette dangling from between her red lips. I part my lips, about to ask about what we just heard but before I could speak, another thing cracked through the silence. A loud bang.
"Fuck!"
"Was that a gunshot?" Sophie asks through the filter, sparking her lighter and lighting up her addiction, inhaling heavily.
"Doubt it," I shake my head, "Give me one," I have a feeling we are going to be out here for awhile.
Sophie nods, going back to her purse while Jack leans forward and knocks a second time.
"Hurry the fuck up!"
"I'm fucking dying over here you bitch!"
"Is there more than one person?" Sophie whispers, handing me my own stick and I put it between my lips, grabbing her lighter and putting the flame to the tip.
"It sounds like Chris," Jack shrugs, "Maybe he's schizophrenic?"
"Then that makes him useless to us," I roll my eyes, breathing in the toxic chemicals while I stuff my hand into my right pocket, feeling the small black pouch I always carried around.
I crouch down, keeping the cigarette between my lips as my fingers pull open the bag, pinching out the long and thin metal tools. I stick them into the doorknob's hole, fiddling and following my instincts with smoke covering up most of my sight.
"Okay! C'mon!"
I stop, listening to the smallest sounds that could be happening behind the closed door. The muffled but very frantic and heavy footsteps stomping down what sounded like stairs made me basically fall back on my ass and pull my tools out of the keyhole.
"Fuck- Throw that out," I hiss, standing up and chucking my tools into the bushes along with my cigarette. I rip Sophie's out between her lips and throw it into the darkness of Chris' lawn.
I wipe myself off, breathing heavily from the panic pumping through my veins while Sophie gasped at what I just did to her poor cigarette.
"The fuck! You bi-" She was about to unleash hell but suddenly, the door swings open.
Chris. He wore a plain white shirt under a open button up shirt with some large black pants, and white shoes. Looking very handsome Chris.
I part my lips but stop when I see Chris right behind Chris- Wait, there's two of them?
"Hey guys, um, this is Matt." Chris turns to the guy behind him that is a spitting image of him, wearing a white shirt and some blue mixed with tan colored jersey jacket.
"You're a twin?" Jack asks, sounding just as confused as we all looked.
Chris nods, smiling innocently with his hands holding themselves together in front of him like a child getting complimented. "I'm a triplet actually,"
He turns his head into the house, "Nick!"
I turn my head towards Sophie, my eyes wide and my head racing a mile a minute. His fucking brothers. We are meeting his fucking brothers.
We are so fucked.
Another copy and paste come into view, wearing a very light brown colored knitted sweater and some matte green colored pants and a black backpack.
So fucked.
"This is Nick," Chris introduces him, this Nick guy was panting heavily like he was racing towards the doors to meet us.
"Hi," He smiles widely, waving at us with his hand that was swallowed up by the sleeve of his sweater. "It's nice to meet you guys,"
"It's nice to meet you guys too!" Sophie squeaks out, my head whipping towards her happier than ever face.
"I'm sorry to just randomly invite them but it was either they come with or I stay home and watch movies all night." Chris apologizes, sounding sincere as Jack seems to get tense from this.
Wanna know how I know that? He's smiling. Not smirking.
"It's fine, you guys ready to have some fun?" I slap on a fake grin, looking around at the three people that are giving me a headache from the grip of this entire meet and greet.
"Of course!" Nick, I think, nods and glances over at his two brothers. "Are we ready to go?"
"Yep, let's go." Matt nods.
I spin on my heels, quickly going back to the car as footsteps follow behind me. I could hear Sophie's light heels clinking behind and catching up to me.
"Holy shit," She whispers, her eyebrows wired together as she lets her real feelings shine through. "We are so fucked Ivy,"
"You think!" I spit, "We need to get out of this, fast." I look over my shoulder, seeing Jack already bullying the new people.
"It's too late. They've already seen our faces," She shakes her head, stopping her feet when we reach the backseat.
"They don't even know our names Soph, we'll be fine. Throw up or break an arm- I don't care, just get us out of this." I order, opening the door and stepping inside of the cold space.
All of the doors pop open and the sound of Jackson's voice fills the air, my head turning at the three threats sitting in the seats of the car while Sophie and Jackson sit at the front.
My eyes flicking to the rear view mirror where Jackson was already looking at me. He knew that we had made a mistake tonight. Jackson moves his eyes away and I see his fingers pinch the small volume knob, twisting until the music grew into a loud thudding audience.
I turn to Chris, his hands snapping in his seatbelt with his brothers already looking out the window or on their phones. I let out a sigh, feeling the car begin to drive and the world seemed to be getting darker.
They know our faces.
With the almost hour long drive ahead and the music blaring through the speakers, I could feel the world not only becoming such a dark red, but it was shrinking with every breath I took. My fingers push down onto the window's switch, making the cool breeze swim inside and my head sticks out.
Sophie's right. They'll know who did it.
"Fuck, fuck.." I pant into the blinding wind, the song following me out of the car and making my head spin in circles. I gnaw on my bottom lip, trying to calm myself down.
I need a fucking drink.
"Soph," I call out, snapping my fingers and holding my hand out, she got the message in seconds because I felt the cold glass press against my sweaty palms. "Thanks,"
I pull it towards my face, twisting the cap off and bringing the circle of relaxation to my lips. I arch my head back, gulping down the sharp tasting liquid, my eyes wiring shut as my throat burns with my head. My throat tightens and locks as the inside of the car seems to be the only thing that can kill me.
I've survived guns, knives, chains, poison, hammers, knuckles- but no, this is what is going to kill me.
I gasp for air, trying to get as much oxygen as I could into my deflating lungs as Jackson turns up the volume on the radio, Chris and his brothers start to get louder and Sophie babbles on with Jack. All of their conversations, the lyrics and beats of the song, my own gasps, all of them begin rotating around my head like a carousel.
My breath kept getting stuck in my throat, clogging my airway rather than saving me from certain death. Instead of continuing to attempt to get my lungs working again, I bring the bottle back to my mouth. I take another slug from the bottle.
At least I'd have the sharp taste of my escape on my tongue before I went out.
My top half was basically falling out of the car, my weak hands doing what they could to keep a grip on the neck of the bottle. My eyes a slit open from the lack of oxygen mixing with the alcohol in my bloodstream, the entire world seemed to go still for a second.
It all went quite as my breathing echoed through my hallow skull, bouncing off of the skeletal walls and exiting out of my ears like a bullet ricocheting. Then everything hit me like a brick, over and over, these waves of sound and panic swallowed me whole then spit me out. It was like a cat preying on a mouse, slapping and pushing the defenseless animal until it was too tired to fight back.
I wanted to throw up and gasp at the same time, I felt the gentle touch of someone's fingertip and as much as I tried, I couldn't pull myself back in. Maybe it was a bad idea to try and get air from the whipping wind that slid over the car at such an alarming pace. It was similar to trying to catch guppies in a fast river with only your bare hands and the naked eye. Impossible.
The gentle touch snapped into a harsh grip on my shoulder, yanking me towards the safety of the inside of the car. The loud music washes over me like a tsunami and my vision becomes thick and hazy. Five people turned into a swirl of blobs and colors mixed with the darkness of the car.
Finally, I got the sweet but sour taste of air filling my lungs like a ballon, my chest rising and falling rapidly with my eyes wiring shut. The fuzzy blanket that was wrapped around my head, keeping me from having any problem with dying whatsoever, was ripped off of my body and I saw how dumb it was to die like this.
I've been shot in the fucking heart for christ's sake, and god really wants me to die from a panic attack?
Ivy Brooks, the infamous psychopathic killer killed by a weak panic attack!
No fucking way. Maybe an ambush attack but I'm not going out this way. I move my heavy head towards my savior, seeing the gentle face of a worried Chris. I shake my head, gathering every last shred of my dignity and oxygen to build up enough to speak.
"You're gonna regret that," I pant, my heavy eyes barely able to stay focused on his eyebrows creasing at my words.
"Regret what? Saving you?" He mumbles, obviously trying to keep his voice down so the others in the car wouldn't hear him. Awe, he's so nice and clueless. It's pathetic.
"Could've saved yourself a lot of trouble," I say in honestly, leaning my weak body against the seat and shutting my eyes, the chaotic scenery continued to fire up around me.
"Trouble?" He asks in a confused tone, making me chuckle from how lost he is in this world he has just stepped into.
This world, our world, isn't so bright and happy like his. He'll figure it out soon enough and trust me, it isn't going to be pretty.
//