Hide, Don't Seek

Chapter 19~

My whole body is shaking with rage and embarrassment. Here I am, in my dang house, with my only friend, two of his friends, and some other stupidly hot guy. And, yet again, I’m reminded why I don’t trust anyone. Especially men.

Angry tears stream down my face, making me feel even worse, even more raw and exposed. “Get out. I’ll take care of the guys, just… get out.” I mumble, staring down at my bare feet. I’m still covered in dirt, my skirt is in tatters, and my slashed-open tank top smells awful. Like dirt, fear, and humiliation.

I hear Stu’s heavy, pained sigh as he steps towards me. Holding my hands up, I shake my head, not making eye contact. I know if I do, whatever is in his eyes will break me. And I’m so tired of being broken. So. Damn. Tired.

“Go,” I whisper; squeezing my eye shut.

When no one moves to leave, I clear my throat and glance at each of the stupidly handsome men filling my living room, my safe space. I inject as much confidence and conviction as I can before lifting my head completely, chin up, shoulders back. “I appreciate your help. Thank you. But, I’ve got it from here. I’m going to get cleaned up but when I come out, you all need to be gone.”

With that, I turn on my heel and walk over to my room, slamming it closed before all but jogging to the bathroom. Once I close that door, I lean my forehead against it and suck in deep breaths. A sob rips from my throat as my vision tunnels and I collapse on the floor.

Goosebumps litter my skin as Matt leans over me. “I’m your best friend, right?”

I furrow my brows, confused about his question. “Well, yeah. Of course. But,”

He tsks at me, lifting my chin with his finger. “No buts, Beatrice. We’re either best friends or we’re not.”

Clearing my throat I nod. “Yes, we are.” I barely whisper.

“Good, and best friends help each other, right?” He implores, his eyes boring deep into mine.

“Y-yes.”

With a nod, he smirks and stands back to his full height. “Good. I’m your best friend. And I’m going to help you out.”

I feel like I”ve entered the twilight zone. “What are you talking about?” I’m beginning to think he’s sick. He has never acted like this before.

“You’re still a virgin, and I’m your best friend, so I’m going to help you out. We both know that I’m the only guy who will give you the chance. I mean, I don’t care that you’re fatter than most girls. But, you definitely don’t want to be the only one in our school who graduates with your virginity. I mean, college is hard. And, not being as pretty as the other girls already puts you at a disadvantage. The last thing you want is also to be considered a prude virgin. Right?”

My brows have hit my hairline as I take in his oddly calm demeanor while he spews this insanity. I mean, sex? Really?! He knows what happened when I was a kid. He knows I’m scared. Why is he really doing this?

Suddenly, I start cracking up. Tears fall from my eyes as I struggle to catch my breath. “Oh my God! You had me, you doofus. Get dressed. I’ll buy breakfast,” I say, shaking my head and moving to stand.

But, Matt doesn’t move out of my way. He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently presses me back down. “You said we were best friends. This is what best friends do. Don’t you trust me?” He asks in his sweet little way, his smile tilting into a small smirk.

“Of course I trust you but-”

He silences me with a finger to my lips. “That’s all I need to hear. Now, lie back.”

Gasping for breath, I blink out of my nightmare. It takes me a few moments to gather myself as my surroundings start to sharpen through the dreamy fog.

I groan as I stretch, realizing I must have fallen asleep on the floor, curled up in the corner between the door and the side wall. I wipe the sweat off my brow and run my free hand through my matted hair. The sling around my other arm is still secured but reminds me of the men I threw out.

Trembling with exhaustion from the night, plus the nightmare of one of the worst betrayals I’ve ever lived through, I move to stand; grunting as my knees scream at being bent for so long. I fling of the sling, wincing as I squeak out from the pain.

Moving to the shower, I turn it as hot as it can go, then step in. It’s not a large shower as it barely fits my plump body. But, it works.

I just stand there, clothes still on, and begin to replay the night. From beginning to ending.

My head thumps against the tiled wall, and I let it all out—all of it. My tears stream like a rushing river, mixing and swirling with the pitter-patter of the water spraying from the nozzle.

Eventually, the water runs cold, signaling my need to move. Pushing back the emotional pain, for now, I strip off my clothes, unwrap the bandages tied around my chest, and quickly shampoo and condition my hair; painfully finding more than a few bumps on my head. Once I rinse it all out, I viciously begin cleaning myself with my body wash. It causes the smattering of scratches and minor stitches to sting but I don’t have it in me to care. My ribs and shoulder ache painfully, causing my vision to double, but I push through and scrub until I physically can’t scrub anymore.

Turning off the water, I step out. The cold floor shocks me so I hurriedly tip-toe to the bathroom cabinet, fling it open, and pull out a fresh towel.

After re-wrapping my ribs and smothering ointment and bruise balm across my body, I swipe the pill bottles sitting on the nightstand. Everything hurts, and I still have work to do. So, I uncap the bottles, chug half a bottle of water before downing the pills, and turn to head out. I don”t bother with the sling since I”m going to need to use my arm, but I can”t help but flinch as I think about how much this next part is going to hurt.

Three minutes later, I’m stepping into my little garage dungeon, taking in the sight of the two bloody, incapacitated men. The gaping, disgusting hole where the one guy’s eye had been causes me to lift my lips in a slight smirk. But, my usual feelings of elation and justice are missing. Now, I’m just…tired. No, past tired; I’m utterly and completely exhausted and I’m afraid I”ve hit my threshold.

An irritated sigh pushes past my lips because I was betrayed by another man, and now I have to get rid of these bozos by myself. All I want to do is curl up in my bed and sleep for a week.

With a sharp exhale, I step past them so I can get to work. I don’t even bother waking the two jerks up. Walking behind the one-eyed asshole, I open up my giant toolbox and pull out my Gunny Knife. It’s one of my favorite Ka-Bars, and the man who created it is a freaking legend. The cold, smooth handle fits in my palm perfectly. The blade looks like it should be top-heavy, but it”s perfectly balanced and perfectly lethal.

With the blade in hand, I come to a stop behind the one-eyed wonder. In a quick movement, I place my hand against his forehead and jerk him back before slitting his throat, ear-to-ear. I step over to his partner and give him the same treatment, and watch as their blood spills out onto the floor.

“Rest in pieces, jackholes” I grumble before shuffling over to the sink to clean my knife. As the water washes away the blood, the crimson drops mixing with the water in a beautiful dance of finality, I make a plan for disposal.

Tonight, I lost my last piece of solace, of peace, of happiness. If that’s not bad enough, I lost my repairman, my best friend- my only friend. Add the overwhelming humiliation of him and his friends knowing and seeing me so vulnerable, so freaking broken…

I shake my head as tears mix with the now-clean water. And just like the blood, there’s nothing left. I have no family, no friends, and no way to have any safe “social calls.”

It’s all tainted. All dirty. All so durn screwed up.

Shutting the water off, I get to work, cleaning up a mess of my own making, and desperately wish the universe would give me a freaking break for once.