I hate Wednesdays.
I think, from every Wednesday on, I will always feel this terrible amount of anxiousness, even after today. I woke up around nine in the morning at Mr. Spencer's house and he made me some hot chocolate, which has easily become my favorite drink.
I don't talk at all, which is less than usual, and watch a movie with Mr. Spencer until Seaton decides to pick me up. When the doorbell rings, I really hope it's him and at the same time I want it to be anyone but. I shift nervously as my teacher goes to get the door and sure enough it's him standing there with a cigarette in his lips.
"You got a trash can?" Seaton asks Mr. Spencer, taking a napkin from his pocket and putting the cigarette out in it. Mr. Spencer nods and steps aside.
As the door shuts, Seaton throws the smoked cigarette away and then comes into the living room with me. I haven't looked up since I affirmed who it was at the door. I still can't believe I had that... dream about him. He'd hate me if he knew. He didn't even like kissing me, what if he knew I wanted to do... more?
"Brat," He greets, sitting down in the chair that Mr. Spencer had been sitting in. A lot of people have chairs that are theirs, the place they always sit. That's Mr. Spencer's, so he scowls at Seaton for taking it, but sits next to me.
"Jayden, there's still time to change your mind," Mr. Spencer assured me, but I just keep looking at Jessica Something-Or-Other flirting with the stretchy guy on Fantastic Four.
"No, sir," I respond, although I don't look at either of them.
"Stop trying to get him to change his mind," Seaton snaps at the chemistry expert, "I want this bastard in jail!"
"You think I don't?" Mr. Spencer retorts irately, glaring at Seaton, "For goodness sake, you think you're the only one who cares about Jayden!?"
"I'm the one who did something about his father!" Seaton snarls.
"Right, and how long did you know about the abuse before you 'did something' Mr. Black? Hm?" To this, Seaton just purses his lips, "I thought so."
"Oh fuck you, Spencer," Seaton barks, "You just jealous of me, because Jayden agrees with everything I say instead of you!"
"Oh, you're pulling the 'your just jealous because he likes me more' card?" Mr. Spencer snorts, "Your pathetic."
"Listen, Spencer, if you don't shut up and let this sting operation happen, I'm going to arrest you for obstruction of justice," Seaton sneered cruelly.
"You're not a police officer anymore, genius," my teacher titters in amusement.
"I'll get Jacobs to do it then," Seaton responds. Man, they fight a lot, don't they? It's pretty funny, but it's getting annoying. I try to concentrate on Jessica Something-Or-Other kicking back guy ass.
"Do you always get your friends to fight you battles for you?"
"No, only the trash I'm too good to touch."
Luckily, then, the phone rang. Mr. Spencer stopped in mid-insult and hesitated before getting up to walk into the kitchen to the nearest phone. That left me and Seaton alone in the living room together, which was a place I wanted and didn't want to be. Regrettably, I couldn't keep my eyes away from flickering to Seaton and away from Jessica, and he was already looking at me.
I stayed silent, which I'm sure isn't all too surprising.
"You ready for this?" He asks, raising an elegant eyebrow, "I know you're not ready, ready, but, you know... are you sure you can do it? Spencer's right, you don't... have to..."
It kind of sounds like he's worried. Oh fuck, I really hope so.
"I'm fine," I reply, nodding and looking at the carpet.
"We'll get the bastard who hurt you," Seaton tells me, his voice low so that Mr. Spencer couldn't hear him from the other room. He's leaning forward and toward me, like he's telling me a secret, "I swear we will. Everything will be okay."
"What if it isn't?" I ask in response, cocking my head, "What if you don't?"
"Don't worry about that," Seaton said confidently, smirking, "We definitely will. We'll put him away if I have to shoot him myself."
I blink, and open my mouth to respond, but Mr. Spencer walks in before I can say anything. I shut my mouth as he comes in, looking disgruntled.
"They want us to start heading over to the apartment," Mr. Spencer says furiously, "I don't understand it – it's over three hours until five."
"Ever think they might need to get everything ready?" Seaton growls, "Put a bug on Jayden, make sure the cameras and bugs in the apartment work, make sure everything's according to plan before Henderson comes strolling his twisted ass up –"
"Will you stop it with all the filthy language!" Mr. Spencer declares, stomping in a rather petulant way as though imitating a two-year-old declined an ice cream cone.
"Oh please," Seaton sniffs and then shakes his head. He stands up and runs a hand through his hair – which I just noticed, is a lot shorter than usual. His bangs only go halfway down his forehead...he must've gotten it cut. "We should head out."
"Yeah," Mr. Spencer sighs, and I notice it's the one thing they've agreed on since I arrive at this house. Interesting.
I stand up then too and we all head to the car without another word.
It isn't until we're turning the corner in Mr. Spencer's car when I remember we left the television on and I'm missing the end. Not that is really matters.
I know the good guys win in the end.
Somehow, that doesn't reassure me.
-
The apartment complex in front of me seems like a foreign country that I'd been born in but knew nothing about. I recognized it, knew where it was that I'd stayed, but it was as though I no longer spoke the language although I'm pretty sure it's not anything but English. We're still in the car, only having parked a few seconds ago. I haven't even undone be seatbelt and I really don't want to.
Suddenly, I feel an amazingly heavy sense of trepidation. Like a weight of nervousness had decided to settle on my chest. Fear keeps licking the underside of my mind, teasing my brain until it's in constant paranoia.
I get out of the car at some point and I'm ushered over to a van on the other side of a large truck. I get into the van with Seaton and Mr. Spencer. In the can, I see May, Jacobs and an Asian man with headphones on sitting inside. It's somewhat cramped with all of us inside along with the screens and equipment.
May fusses around with my shirt, putting a bug on me that doesn't have a wire and looks like it's an extra button on the pocket of my button-up shirt. Well, technically it's Mr. Spencer's shirt and about three times too big for me but you get the idea.
May's hair is pulled back into a bun so tight I think it might rip the hairs right out of her head and her uniform is crisp and perfect. After a while of merely going over what to say and what not to say to get him to look and sound incriminating, it was an hour until the time that Charlie was supposed to arrive. I was then released from the van and Mr. Spencer was sitting in his own car, determined not to look at what was going on in the video.
I make my way up to my apartment, open the unlocked door, and half expect my dad to be there waiting angrily for me. But, of course, he isn't so I close the door behind me and go into the living room. I look around and I know there are cameras anywhere, but I can't find them.
"Um... hi," I say, and apparently they heard me because no one came rushing up to fix a broken bug.
I feel the urge to look around, to see if anything's changed at all. I go to the bathroom but everything's still the same. The mirror is still busted. Then, I head to my room. Looking at it at first glance, I wouldn't be able to tell anything was different. Only after a bit of looking did I realize that little things, like my books, were out of place.
The floor is clean, and my dad wouldn't be caught dead cleaning, especially if he was going to run anyway. Some cops much have come in and taken samples from the 'crime scene' that was my attempted rape. I sigh and look at my bed. It was the same bed it all started in – with Charlie. And today... it was going to end.
Apprehensive and uneasy, I sat on the couch and turned on the television. No cable, since Alfred hasn't paid the bills, so I just watch the news, which really doesn't help my mood in the least.
As the minutes tick by, I try to be calm. Maybe I could even fall asleep, but I doubt it. I can't fall asleep with my mind racing like it is. What will Charlie do? What will he say? What if he knows something's up? What if one of the cops shoot him? What if Charlie gets far enough to –to touch me, and Seaton sees?
Somewhere in the midst of all my mind rambling, the door opens. Apparently Charlie let himself right in, although, he's used to doing so with my dad on poker night. I hear footsteps, and then I see him. His light brown hair his slightly matted and his hazel eyes stare at me from the doorway as they look me over. He's wearing a leather jacket, a white t-shirt and jeans, his normal attire. His shoes make tiny squeaky sounds as he walks over to me.
His nose is covered with a strange looking cast, and his hand is as well. It looks awkward on him.
"Kiddo," He greets, but doesn't sit down just yet, "Alfred's worried about you."
Ha, right. Missing his punching bad? Okay, wow, that sounded bitter. I need to stop that.
"I'm sorry," I say lowly, "I- I'm so sorry. I just missed you is all. You were right."
"Of course I was right, Kiddo," He smiles warmly and sits down next to me on the couch, not too close just yet, "All those times in your room when you were younger... I knew you wouldn't just forget about that."
"I –I –"
"But that– that man," Charlie scowls, "He's touched you, hasn't he?"
"No!" I shake me head earnestly, "Really, he hasn't. I... you... I mean... you..."
"That's right, Kiddo," He scoots closer to me on the couch and raises his unbroken hand and cups my cheek gently, "I'm the only one who can touch you, right?"
"Y-Yes, Charlie," I can't help it –I lean into his touch. His hand his large and cool and soft and... welcoming.
"Am I the only one who's ever touched you, Kiddo?" Charlie asks, moving his other hand, cast and all, to my knee.
"Yeah," I gulp, "Yeah you... were my first."
"And only?"
"And only," I repeat to affirm it. He takes his hand away and smirks slyly.
"Now, about that... payment," Charlie stated, nudging my back until I got off the couch. I stand and then face him, waiting for instructions, "Strip, Kiddo."
So I do.
I tug my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor, and then tug on my zipper until it's all the way down and let the large jeans slip down over my hips to fall and pool around my ankles. I step out of them, now only in my (or rather, Mr. Spencer's) underwear and a rather impressive blush. Charlie leers from the couch and then stands, putting his hands on my waist and pulling my close until our chests meet.
"What... now?" I breathe, my face burning as I look up timidly.
"Now," He chuckles, "We're going to make love, Kiddo. That's what people who are in love do."
And then he kisses me fiercely, shoving his tongue into my mouth with a violently lustful force. He tastes like toothpaste. I bet Seaton wouldn't taste like toothpaste. He would taste like smoke and just– well Seaton. Not stupid mint toothpaste. Charlie's hands are groping my butt and are about to tug the underwear down until the door slams open and May and Jacobs come bursting in, guns in hand.
"Police!" Jacobs woofs roughly.
It happened so fast I could barely comprehend it. Once Charlie heard the door burst open he twisted me around with my back to his front and then suddenly the cool metal of something circular was pressed against my temple. My eyes widen as I realize what it is, and I see May's and Jacobs' do the same.
A gun.
Pointing at my head.
Wonderful.
Charlie brought a gun with him... he must've know something wasn't right...
Charlie's arm is wrapped around my shoulder to keep me from moving, and I just hold impeccably still. Jacobs and May shoot each other looks that say something like 'this wasn't supposed to happen', which is really a great comfort.
"You sold me out!?" Charlie snarls, shaking me a bit. "You bitch, I swear I'll–"
"You'll do nothing, Henderson," Jacobs interrupted, his gun still pointing in our direction. "We've got everything on tape."
"I knew something was up," Charlie spat, spittle landing on my shoulder, "You little fucker, I was going to forgive you!"
"I'm sorry, Charlie!" I say in a way that's really more like a whimper. "I'm sorry –they made me, I swear, I –"
"Shut up!" he yells, making me flinch, "Shut the fuck up. You're a lying little whore, Kiddo. And Jacobs, was it? I remember you! Good to see you."
"Wish I could say the same," Jacobs replies, "Henderson, listen, we've got a deal for you if you just put the gun down."
"What kind of deal?"
"A good one," Jacobs says, nodding, "Just let Jayden go..."
And I'm thrown to the side, and for a moment I think he's given up. Instead, I'm just on the ground to the left of Charlie. I'm on my bottom, on the floor, and the gun's still pointing at me. Charlie scowls deeply as he looks at the two police officers. May's only a rookie, so she stays silent as her partner does the persuading.
"We want Jayden's dad," Jacobs explains, "We want his location first and account of his abuse on Jayden. We want your testimony and possibly any other people that are witnesses to it."
"And what do I get?" Charlie's eyes were wide and insane. His pupils were dilated as those he where in a large spotlight and his face was contorted into something between terror and fury.
"Ten to fifteen," Jacobs says.
"No fucking way!" Charlie yells feverishly, starting to sweat, "That's ten more years of my life you messing with!"
"Well maybe you should of thought of that before you went around molesting kids, huh, Henderson?" May glowered from behind her gun.
Whoa. Okay, time out. You did not just fucking say that to the guy that's holding a freaking gun to me, lady! Not that I don't deserve it... after doing this to him. I'm so fucking selfish! How could I do this to Charlie? He loved me, and I betrayed him. I'm still betraying him! God, I'm so stupid.
"May," Jacobs growls a warning. "Listen Henderson, this is a good deal. Without it, as a repeat offender, you looking at twenty-five to life."
"LIAR!" Charlie screams frantically. His gun shakes along with his hand. Oh god, Charlie... I'm so sorry.
"Hey, calm down, buddy," Jacobs tries to be friendly, "It's the truth, and I'm trying to do you a favor, okay? Just... put the gun down."
"I'M NOT GOING BACK!" Charlie roars, "I'm not going back there! I WON'T!"
Jacobs eyes narrow and he looks at Charlie in a whole new manner. He was now armed and dangerous in their eyes, and they felt he was passed any convincing.
"One last time, Henderson –"
"I'm not going to do anything –"
" –we can make a deal for you –"
" – for you. I won't go back to jail –"
" –just set the gun down –"
" –ever! I won't! You'll have to –"
" –and everything will be just fine."
" –kill me first!" Charlie ended in an almost psychotic frenzy.
For a short while longer, they glare at each other, and I just sit there, immobile and scared. I knew what was going to happen –as though I were psychic or something, I could almost visually make out what would happen in less than a minute and I knew –I knew I couldn't let it happen. I owed Charlie, for betraying him.
And so I leapt up, and Charlie was startled out of the glaring contest. He blinked and looked at me as I ran –and not to the cops, but to him. I lunged the few feet I had to go and for an instant everything seemed to stop and a sharp, piercing sound rang through the air like a firework or a backfiring car.
BAM!!!
It felt like a sonic boom. Everything before hand happened so fast, and now everything in comparison seemed to freeze. Charlie's eyes were wider then they had been a second before, now masking much of the fear and anger was complete and utter shock. It was then I knew that someone had been shot, and that the loud noise had been a gun being fired. For a moment, I was sure it was Charlie by the look of surprised horror on his features.
But then everything sped up to normal speed, and it took be only another second for me to realize that the person who'd been shot....
...was me.