Six days. It's been six days since I last talked to Isaac and his gang. I have been waiting for them to 'get in touch', and I'm starting to think they won't, that I was just some kind of joke to them. They haven't been at their usual spot for the last couple of days, which makes me worried I lost the only opportunity I had to get to Reggie.
"So you're in?", James asks, getting me out of my own train of thoughts. I lift my eyes up from my plate to look at him, an eyebrow raised as I have no clue what he's referring to. "You're not listening to me, are you?", he scoffs, and I give him an apologetic smile. Lately, I haven't been able to think about anything else than Reggie, Isaac, and his gang, and I know James has started to notice how I constantly zone out. "The party, tonight. You in?", he asks again with excited eyes. The thought of going to a frat party, crowded with shallow people looking to get fucked in every sense of the word makes me want to poke my eyes out. Even before Charlie died, and I lost all taste for life, I was not a party girl. I've always hated being surrounded by people who need to get hammered to be their true selves. But maybe a party is actually what I need. Maybe a night of non-stop drinking will help me forget about my fucked up life. Make me forget about how lonely I feel without Charlie, about how the hole I feel in my heart seems to grow every minute that passes.
"Sure", I answer, a large smile quickly appearing on James's lips. He gives me the address and tells me to meet him there directly as we live on opposite sides of the city before we finish our lunch and make our way to our next class.
The afternoon goes by as slowly as usual as I listen to my boring professor reading an even more boring Powerpoint presentation. After what feels like a century, my three-hour lecture finally ends and I leave campus in the direction of my apartment. When I reach home, I throw my bag on the floor next to the door like I do every day, and l walk in my bedroom where I let myself fall on the bed. In the past few months, my bed has been my favourite place to be. Whether it's here or back at my parents' place in Southampton, it's the only place I feel somewhat safe. I make the mistake of shutting my eyes for a second, looking to relax for a minute before getting ready for the party, but of course, my brain has other plans and I find myself falling asleep. I wake up over four hours later, and it takes me a second to realize what happened as I start to move my numb limbs. Fuck, the party, I think as I grab my phone to look at the time: 9:23 pm, and a stream of notifications from James. I get up and send him a text to let him know I'm on my way before I quickly undress from my jeans and sweater and jump into a red fitted dress. I put on some Nikes that ruin the look but don't pay attention to it, and grab a jacket before making my way outside, not caring about what my hair looks like. I'm not looking for a hookup, so who cares what I look like? Alcohol surely doesn't.
I arrive at the party an hour later, after getting into the wrong bus and almost turning around to go back to bed. But I took pity on James's desperate calls and here I am, making my way through the crowd as I look for him, my phone on my ear, trying to hear him tell me where he is in this big house. After looking for over fifteen minutes, I finally locate him sitting on the stairs, a red cup in his hands, talking to a couple of guys. As soon as he sees me, his lips curl into a smile and he stands up and walks down the stairs to come and greet me. He gives me a tight hug, and I can immediately tell he's already wasted.
"Bundle of Joy!", he screams over the loud music. "You made it. I was starting to think you ditched me", he adds before grabbing my hand and dragging me back to where he was sitting a couple of seconds ago. He makes me sit next to him and introduces me to his friends who look as drunk as him. They start talking about music, as they all share the same major, and my mind starts to wander as I look at the people around us. Every single person in this house looks either wasted or high. A bunch of dudes are playing pool, kicking everyone around them with their stick, but they don't seem to give a shit about it. Another group sits on the multiple sofas in the living room, laughing loudly and spilling their drinks everywhere. Every inch of space is occupied by sweaty and horny students either drinking, dancing, smoking or making out, and I start to regret coming here tonight. I'm gonna need something strong to last longer than five minutes here. Thankfully James quickly offers to get me a drink, and I don't have to wait long before he comes back with a red cup and a bottle of vodka in his hands. "I didn't know what you liked so I mixed a little bit of everything", he says as he hands me the cup, accidentally pouring half of it on his friend next to me, barely able to hold his balance. I laugh at his drunken state, and bring the glass to my nose, wincing at the smell. I guess that will have to do, I think as I swallow the liquor in one big gulp. The liquid burns my throat, making me squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head out of reflex, and gag at the awful taste. James can cross bartender off the list of backups if his music career fails. The gross taste in my mouth encourages me to grab the bottle of vodka from James's hands; anything to get rid of that god awful taste. He doesn't even seem to notice he's not holding the bottle anymore, too busy talking about whatever it is that they're talking about. I uncap the bottle and bring it to my mouth, before drinking a good quarter of it. Again, the bitter liquid burns my throat, but I don't wince this time. This tastes like heaven after James's little satanic creation. I continue to drink the bottle by myself, while I pretend like I'm interested in what the guy in front of me is telling me when I couldn't give less shit. Everything seems so boring and empty of meaning since Charlie died. How am I supposed to have a normal conversation about stuff that I stopped caring about the day I learned about his death?
How are you doing? Enjoying life in Birmingham? What are you majoring in? Are you liking your classes? Are you single?
When I hear that last question, I go to take another sip out of the bottle in my hands, anything to make me forget about this night, but as nothing comes out of it, I quickly realize I've drunk it all already. I know I'm way past wasted now, as the guy who's been talking to me for however long seems to now have a twin, and none of them seem to be able to sit still. Wait, is it my head that's moving, or them? He doesn't have a twin, does he? I turn my head towards where James was sitting next to me, and see that he's gone. What? Where has he left? When? I didn't even see him leave. I stand up and ignore the guy in front of me who's asking me where I'm going, and start walking down the stairs before making my way to the kitchen to get myself another drink. I clearly haven't had enough as I can still feel that hole in my chest and the agony my heart is in. I enter the kitchen where a group of guys is chatting and laughing around the island table, a beer each in their hands. Judging by their look, I bet they're part of the university's soccer team. They just have that superior and cocky look on their face. I ignore the stares and dirty comments I receive as I walk towards the counter where I see a bottle of whisky calling my name, but just as I'm about to grab it, a guy comes in between me and the counter. I lift my head up to be able to look at him in the eyes as he's making me feel like a dwarf next to him and give him my most unhappy look.
"Move", I say, not in the mood to have my time wasted by a stupid frat boy.
"What are you gonna do if I don't, pretty face?", he says and I sigh. That's exactly why I don't come to parties. I don't have time for self-absorbed, entitled dicks. He looks at me with lustful eyes, and licks his lips, a smirk quickly replacing his smile.
"Just fucking move", I say as I try to reach for the bottle again but he grabs my hand with his, while his other hand grabs my ass, and he pulls me onto him under his friends' laughs. I can feel his crotch rubbing against me, and I start to sober up real quick as he forces his lips on mine.
What the fuck.
His hand is squeezing my arse so tight I'm sure it will leave a mark. The light breeze I feel on my butt indicates me my dress is no longer covering my lower half because of him. I try to push him off me, but the way he's holding my wrist and keeping me glued to him makes it impossible for me to escape his grip. The amount of alcohol I had tonight doesn't help as I feel like my thoughts are all over the place and everything seems to be in slow motion around me. His lips on mine feel wet and have a disgusting taste of beer and cigarette as he kisses me roughly and I find myself gasping for air. All of a sudden, the room falls quiet, not a single laugh from the jerk's friends echoing in the kitchen anymore.
"Get the fuck off her", I hear a chilling voice say behind me and the guy detaches his lips from mine. I'm finally able to breathe again. I see the guy look behind me and he instantly loosens his grip on me. I quickly push him off me and notice how everyone is also looking behind me in silence.
"Shit man, I'm out of here", one of the guys says before making his way out of the kitchen, quickly followed by his friends. I immediately step away from the guy who had his hands all over me a second ago and turn around to see Brad standing there, two other tattooed dudes I have never seen before next to him. The look on the face of the guy who just assaulted me suddenly changes, his smirk replaced by terror. He literally looks like he's gonna shit himself.
"Hey man, sorry, I- I didn't know she was with you", he stutters as he tries to back away from Brad and his friends who are walking towards us still standing against the counter. I can feel my heart beating at a million BPM in my chest as I watch the three of them approach us, Brad looking like he's ready to kill. I've never seen that look on his face before. Even when he scared the hell out of me the other day, he looked like an angel compared to now. His hazel eyes have turned completely black, and his jaw is so clenched I wonder if the pressure isn't gonna break it. His eyes don't move from the guy next to me as the space between us gets smaller and smaller, and I notice the guy start to panic. He's clearly about to make a run for it, but before he can, Brad's ringed fingers curl into a fist just as he reaches him, and it doesn't take long before his hand makes contact with the guy's face, throwing him to the ground, a line of blood soon running down his nose. The guy doesn't have time to realize what happened to him that Brad kicks him in the stomach with such strength that I swear I heard the sound of a bone breaking. The guy on the floor starts to beg Brad to let him go, telling him that he's sorry, while I stand there next to them, unable to move, paralysed by fear. I have never witnessed so much violence with my own eyes, only on TV, and trust me, it's not something you'd want to see. I start to feel the alcohol rushing up my throat as Brad continues to kick the guy on the floor, and I have to look away from the sight of his face, now swollen and covered in blood. He's going to kill him, I think and decide to go and get some help. But just as I try to leave, Brad notices me move and turns towards me, with that look that sends shivers down my spine. My breathing becomes increasingly jerky as I wonder what's in store for me now.
"You stay here", he orders me, and I do as told, not willing to test his limits at this point. He turns back to his friends and nods his head towards the guy still on the floor, half passed out. "Take care of him", he tells his friends who move forward and grab the guy by his shirt and stand him up. "Make sure he can't use his hands after you're done with him", he adds just as the three of them leave the room, and Brad's friends nod while the guy suddenly seems to realize what is about to happen to him and starts begging them to let him go. The silence in the house is deafening as if everyone has stopped talking and dancing, only the sounds of music now echoing in the deserted kitchen. As I find myself alone with Brad, I realize my entire body is shaking and I am very close to throwing up the litres of alcohol I had tonight. Brad comes closer to me, his eyes not moving from mine as he looks at me with his pitch-black eyes and intense look that makes my heart race in my chest.
"What are they gonna do to him?", I ask, not able to hide the shaking in my voice. Brad keeps on staring at me, clearly not caring about what I just asked.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?", he asks, ignoring my question, and I know he's not referring to what just happened with that guy. I play dumb and don't answer, simply returning his stare. "Do you think this is a game?", he continues as he takes a step closer to me, making me back off but I get stopped by the wall behind me. Brad closes the distance between us and places both his hands on the wall on either side of my head. "Do you think this is gonna end well for you?", he asks and I realize that I'm holding my breath now that his face is literally only an inch away from mine. I stay silent again as I swallow the lump in my throat. I am so confused by his behaviour. One moment he helps me, the next he's threatening me. Bipolar much?
"I'm not scared of you", I say, trying to sound confident, and hide how shaky my legs feel with him so close to me. He scoffs, clearly not believing a word I said, and brings his face even closer to mine, making me turn my head to the side to try and escape the close proximity. All of a sudden, I see his hand move from the wall and he grabs my chin with his fingers before forcing me to turn my head back to face him. That sudden physical contact gives me shivers, and I don't know if it's because I'm scared of what he might do to me or something else, but I know he noticed it as a smirk replaces his tense expression.
"Clearly", he scoffs as he scans my face again, and finally lets go of my chin before taking a step back. I feel like I can breathe again now that his face is not so close to mine. "Go back to where the fuck you come from before you get hurt", he adds, and I can feel my blood boil inside me. Who the hell does he think he is?
"What's your problem?", I say as I give him a despising look. "If you think threatening me is gonna scare me off, you're wrong", I add with a sudden rush of confidence, probably due to the amount of alcohol I had tonight.
"What the fuck don't you understand?", he yells as he steps towards me again and I notice his fist clench, making me step back, and I hit the wall again, closing my eyes in anticipation of the impact of his hand on my face. A loud bang echoes next to my ear, and I open my eyes to see his fist on the wall only a few inches away from my face, as he looks at me with killer eyes, and I wonder what I can possibly have done to make him hate me that much. I try to steady my jerky breathing, and the shaking in my entire body as I keep eye contact with him until he finally detaches his fist from the wall. "Why do you want to fuck up your life so bad?", he adds, sounding calmer and less murdery this time. I look at him, my eyebrows furrowed, wondering why on earth does he care about what I do with my life. He clearly doesn't give a shit about much considering the fact that he almost killed someone tonight. There has to be an explanation, but I'd rather not get more on his nerves right now, so I decide against asking him the reason behind his hot and cold behaviour.
"I have my reasons", I finally say and the look on his face changes, as if he just realized something. I don't give him a chance to answer, and take the opportunity to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible. As soon as I enter the living room, I notice how empty and quiet the room is, as most of the students seem to have run away from the party. The few people still there give me a weird look while I try to get my eyes on James, but he is nowhere to be found. I decide not to take my chances by staying at that party any longer, not willing for Brad to come and finish what he had started in the kitchen, and make my way out of the house and onto the freezing streets of Birmingham. I start walking, knowing that the last bus home came hours ago. Why did I come tonight? I knew I should have stayed home. I wrap my arms around myself to try and keep warm in my short dress as my eyes struggle to stay open. Why did I think drinking twice my bodyweight was a good idea? I start to speed up the pace as I hear a car approaching and slowing down the closer it gets to me. Fuck, what now? The car finally reaches me, and I turn my head just as the window rolls down.
"Get in", I hear, and even if I can't see the face of the driver in the pitch dark night, I would recognize that voice anywhere. Brad. What kind of psychopath is he? Does he really think I'm going to get in his car after what has just happened at the party? What's his plan? Drive me to a deserted park and kill me there? Eliminate the competition? Hell no, I have business to finish before I'llI let that happen. I keep on walking, ignoring him, and jump when I hear the sound of a door being slammed. I don't have time to turn around that Brad appears next to me and grabs my wrist. "I said get in", he orders in that chilling voice that sends shivers down my spine, and the more I try to get out of his grip, the more he tightens it.
"Leave me the fuck alone", I say using my free hand to try and remove his fingers from my wrist.
"And how the fuck do you plan on getting home? You're gonna walk alone in that dress? You really have a death wish, don't you. Fuck look at you! You can't even walk straight" he says, and I know he's right, but I won't give him the satisfaction of agreeing to anything he says.
"I was perfectly fine before you showed up", I answer, trying harder to get rid of his fingers hurting my wrist. That only seems to upset him as he grabs my free hand with his.
"Why do you have to make this so fucking hard?", he says, looking straight into my eyes, his jaw clenched again.
"You're hurting me", I say, wincing at the pain in my wrist.
"Good", he answers, not loosening his grip on me. "That gives you a taste of what's waiting for you if you keep on trying to be a part of this world", he continues before letting one of my hands go and dragging me to his car by the wrist. "Now shut the fuck up and get in", he adds before opening the passenger door and pushing me inside. I sit in silence, paralysed by fear again as he walks around the car and takes his seat behind the wheel. I did think of running while he was making his way to the other side of the car, but considering the fact that he has a car, and isn't as drunk as I am, I decided against it as it would take him two seconds to catch up to me. I can't help the shaking in my body as I sit next to him, in such a close space, not knowing what he plans on doing with me. Is he going to drive me home, or is he going to do to me the same as he did to that guy in the kitchen?
"Where do you live", he asks, and even if there's not an ounce of friendliness in his voice, I still feel relieved he's actually driving me home and not to a deserted park to murder me. I hesitate for a second as I realize that if I give him my address, he'll know where I live, and who knows what he'll do with that information. He might give it to his gang, and one day they'll be waiting for me when I get back from uni, and beat me to death. I wouldn't have cared if it wasn't for Charlie. "Don't even think of giving me a fake address. I'll come to your door and watch you get inside", Brad says, as if he had just read my mind, and I swallow the lump in my throat. Is he really going to do that? Or is that an excuse to get his way inside my place and do whatever he wants to me? "Don't make me fucking ask again", he adds, making me jump again at his tone. I reluctantly give him my address and he drives there in silence. Luckily the ride home is way shorter than my bus ride to the party, and before I know it, Brad's parking in front of my building. I pray in my head that he won't follow me to the door, but apparently he has other plans as he turns off his car and pulls his keys out of the ignition.
"I can walk to the door by myself", I say before opening the passenger door and getting out of the car. Brad doesn't answer, but imitates me and gets out of the car before shutting the door, his stare focused on me. I roll my eyes as I realize there's nothing I can say that will make him change his mind, and start walking towards the building door, Brad following closely behind. The closer I get to my door, the faster my heart beats in my chest and I notice how shaky my hands are, barely able to hold on to my keys. When I finally reach my apartment, I stop in front of the door and turn around to face Brad. "You can go now, I think I can manage to open the door by myself", I say, gripping on my keys to try and hide the shakiness of my hands. Brad keeps on looking at me with the same tense look on his face and I wonder what he's thinking about.
"Open the door", he simply says, and I let out a long breath. I slowly turn around to face the door again, my heart about to jump out of my chest as I try to bring the key to the lock, but my hands are too shaky and keep missing it. The fact that my vision is blurry from all the alcohol I drank tonight doesn't help either in locating the keyhole. And just as I was about to give up, a hand gently grabs mine, and helps direct it towards the keyhole, the key sliding inside with ease. I know Brad's now standing right behind me, so close I can feel his breath on my neck. I feel the warmth of his hand on mine as he keeps hold of my hand and helps me turn the key to unlock my door. That sudden contact gives me goosebumps, and I know it's not because of fear this time. When the door finally opens, Brad let's go of my hand and I find myself longing for his touch. Wait, what's happening to me? I want to slap myself for thinking that. I can't possibly be attracted to that psychopath. Put yourself together Joy.
"Happy?", I ask as I make my way inside, trying to push away the unholy thoughts in my head. I don't give him time to answer that I close the door on his face. Fuck, what am I doing?
"Lock your fucking door", I hear him say before the sound of footstep leaving start echoing in the hallway. I quickly do as he said, not because he said it, but because I was going to do it anyways, and go to my bedroom where I crash on my bed, not bothered to take my makeup off. All of this will be worth it, I tell myself as I think about Charlie. You'll soon have the revenge you've come here for, and this will end.
Eeekk I have been waiting FOR EVER to share this chapter with you guys! Definitely one of my fav!! Bad boy Brad gives me 🥵 . What did you guys think? Did you like it? Why do you think Brad is acting this way with Joy?
Don't forget to click on the star ⭐️ and leave a comment if you liked the chapter 🥰. Love you guys! ❤️