Chapter 4 – Betsy
CHAPTER FOUR
BETSY
“Okay, so movies. We have a choice out of these three: Kill Bill, Inglourious Basterds, or Django Unchained?” Eden asks while scrolling the selection.
“Either Kill Bill or Inglourious Basterds,” Mor mumbles around a mouthful of popcorn.
“Inglourious Basterds,” I agree.
Eden selects it before reaching for the bowl of chips and the seven-layer dip. “Do you think other women have sleepovers like this?” I ask as I take apart my firearm and begin cleaning it.
“Er, yeah. This is totally normal.” Mor shrugs as she continues to eat the popcorn.
Bernie walks in with a large jug of margarita. “Well, I imagine others may watch less violent movies,” she says as she refills our glasses.
“They are good films,” Eden argues.
“I’m not saying they aren’t, but I figure most girls’ nights are with a romcom and wine. They also don’t spend that time cleaning their weapons,” she states, nodding at me.
“It’s common knowledge that you need to take good care of your weapons,” I counter.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Do you also have to have your laptop open sending diseases?” Bernie asks.
I grin. “Viruses,” I correct her. “And I’m only sending them to that men’s club in the city.”
Mor sits up, her eyes alighting with amusement. “Oooh, nice. You know they have had four staff members accuse them of sexual allegations, and nothing has been done.”
“I do, so I figured I would share their secrets via their entire mailing list.” I smirk.
Mor slaps a big kiss on my cheek. “Man, you’re fucking awesome.
You know that?” She grins. I wipe my cheek and laugh.
“Hating to make this all businessy, but I’m going to call kitchen,” Mor adds.
Eden and I exchange a look. Kitchen is the name for our club meetings.
The male MC call their meetings church, and we wanted something more for us.
More ironic. Mor only ever calls kitchen when it’s something important.
“Calm down, it’s nothing bad,” she assures us, but I notice something flicker across her features before she schools it.
I frown, wondering what it could be. We are open with each other. There isn’t anything going on within the club that I, nor Eden doesn’t know about.
We continue to sit and watch the movie, talking and laughing while eating junk food, when suddenly loud music with a thumping bass begins to vibrate its way through my house.
“What in the hell is that?” Mor asks, a piece of red liquorice hanging from her mouth as she jumps to her feet to peer out of the window.
“Next door are having one of their parties,” I say on a yawn. I’m so used to the noise of it. It’s like white noise to me.
“This is what you’ve been putting up with?!” Eden asks, raising her voice over the sound of the music.
“Well, I’m not having this!” Bernie huffs, getting to her feet and storming towards the front door.
“No. Bernie, don’t. It’s not worth it,” I protest.
She turns back to look at me. “Not worth it? By the time I’m finished with them, they will wish they had never been born!” she snaps, aggressively swinging the door open and stomping off.
I groan and flop on my back, pulling the pillow over my face. “This is just going to make it worse,” I state.
Suddenly, the pillow is yanked off my face by a glaring Mor.
“Come on. Let’s go out on the porch and watch Bernie chew their asses out,” she says with an excited grin.
I roll my eyes as she grabs my hands and yanks me up to my feet.
We step out onto the porch and watch as Bernie stomps over to their house in her robe and slippers.
She marches up their steps before she pounds on their front door over and over again until they answer.
One of their pledges opens the door, wearing nothing but a frilly apron and a feather duster in his hand.
Bernie doesn’t say anything. She just barges right in, pushing the poor lad out of the way. “Oh shit, she’s pissed.” Mor chuckles.
We catch glimpses of her through the windows as she moves through the house. The next thing, the music is cut out. Then Bernie reappears, carrying a cable in her hands. She grins triumphantly, holding the cable above her head like a trophy.
Brody, Brady and Archer come running out of the house behind her. “Hey! Stop. Give that back!” Brody yells. “Get her,” he orders one of the pledges. They run as quick as they can after Bernie, but she’s already running up the steps of my porch. Eden and Mor pull out their guns and take aim.
“How did you…?” I look at them, then back into the house. “When did you?” I ask.
“Take one step on this property and we will shoot you,” Mor threatens, still with her red liquorice hanging out of her mouth.
The young guys that are pledging immediately stop, their eyes going wide, holding their hands up in surrender. Brody, Brady, and Archer stand behind them, their gazes furious.
Eden tilts her head, assessing them. “You know, for a college frat, you sure have some balls.”
Brady cups his junk. “Why don’t you come over here, and you can feel just how big my balls are?” He laughs, Brody laughing along with him, but Archer just stands there, his jaw ticking, his glare murderous.
“Bragging about having big balls isn’t something you should boast about. Women like big dicks, not big balls. You fucking moron,” Mor quips.
I stand next to them, dressed in nothing but my oversized Billie Eilish T-shirt, and my hair is piled high in a messy bun on top of my head. Eden and Mor are in their shorts and tank tops, and Bernie is in her grey tank, black sweats, and her robe.
“Er, guys. We are out here in our pyjamas,” I murmur quietly, and it’s as if Archer could hear me. His eyes land on mine before doing a slow sweep of my body. I shift uncomfortably under his stare. Eden notices and looks from me to Archer, her brow raising in question.
Archer steps forward, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, we apologise. I will admit it’s all just got out of hand now.
I promise that we won’t have any more loud parties,” he states.
I frown, confused as to why he is giving in all of a sudden, when just a few hours ago it was all-out war.
“As an offering, why don’t you ladies join us for one of our parties tonight? Let’s clear the air,” he offers.
Mor lowers her gun, as does Eden. “Why would we trust you?” Mor asks the question we are all thinking.
“You have no reason to trust us, but what have you got to lose? Bring your weapons if you don’t feel safe,” he suggests.
Mor and Eden both look at me, waiting for my answer.
I know if I said no, they wouldn’t decline the offer.
I want to say no, but then maybe going there will be a good thing.
I won’t be alone, because they will be with me.
Safety in numbers, plus if it truly mends bridges, then surely that’s a good thing.
Nerves swarm in my stomach, and I clench my hands into tight fists and give them a nod, even though every instinct within me is fighting to say no.
“We will come over, but just for an hour,” Mor agrees.
“I will stay behind. I’m a little too old to be partying in a frat house.” Bernie snorts as she hands me the cable. “You feel uncomfortable, you just say so and come home. Don’t force yourself to do something that you are uncomfortable with,” Bernie states quietly.
I give her a small nod. “I will be okay. Don’t worry,” I say with a small smile. Mor and Eden start making their way down the steps. “Er, shouldn’t we change?” I ask.
“What’s the point? They’ve already seen us.” Mor shrugs, turning and waiting for me. I follow her down the steps, my bare feet touching the grass as we walk across to their house.
Archer stands at the front door and gestures for us to go in, but before I can take another step, he moves and cages me in against the door, trapping my hands at my sides by gripping the cable in a tight grip. He leans his head down, his sharp green eyes searching my face.
My heart thunders in my chest. Too close, too close.
“Easy, little gremlin.” He smirks, lowering his hand, his fingers lightly grazing across my bare thigh.
Please, please. No. My mind panics, throwing me back to that night. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to calm down. I feel him take the cable from my hand, and cool air dances across my body. Slowly opening my eyes, I see he’s gone.
Mor comes over, concern on her face. “You okay?” she asks, worried.
I exhale a breath and nod. “Yeah.” I force a wobbly smile. “Just my mind went, well, it just triggered,” I ramble.
Mor wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into her side, leading us both through the house. “You want to go, just say. We are only here for you,” she assures me.
I nod. “I will be okay,” I state, my voice wavering slightly, trying to convince myself just as much as I am her. Forcing myself to face this is good. I need to do this. I refuse to constantly live my life in fear from that night.
We walk further through the house into the kitchen, and two big kegs are sitting on top of the kitchen island. More people fill the space, and girls in nothing but their bikinis look over at us and snigger. I roll my eyes, but I still shift uncomfortably. I am in my pyjamas, after all.
“Here, drink this,” Mor says, handing me a cup of beer.
I scrunch up my nose and sniff it. “It smells cheap,” I say before taking a small sip, immediately wanting to spit it back out. “It is cheap,” I complain, placing the cup on the side.
Mor smirks. “What do you expect? They are college students. They don’t care what they put in their mouth.” As she says that, I look over and see a couple passionately making out.