Chapter 12
CHARLIE
I have to wait until Saturday to exact my revenge since I don’t know Troy’s schedule.
During the week, he tried to apologize again for what had happened, but I really didn’t want to hear his excuses.
The reason was simple: I didn’t want him to convince me to forget about the prank.
I can’t afford to fall for his charm. A beautiful, cocky football player like him would crush me and obliterate my heart if I let my guard down. Then, I’d have to move out.
My accomplices today are Ben, Tammara, and Fred.
Blake vehemently refused to help, citing his aversion to birds as an excuse.
I would have preferred to not involve Ben in my schemes, but since he’s the one with access to the animals, I couldn’t leave him out.
He and his girlfriend were like kids on Christmas morning as they helped load the birds in the van Fred had borrowed from work.
Troy left the house before the sun was up, and he won’t be back until the end of the day. Enough time for our aviary friends to get comfy in his room. We brought only a dozen chickens with us, which should be plenty to get the job done.
Right before we release the animals in Troy’s room, hesitation grips me. Maybe this prank is a little too extreme. But then I remember everything Troy has done to me since we met, the lack of respect and common courtesy, and the guilt takes a back seat.
I’ve never been in his room before today. He keeps it in immaculate condition. There isn’t a thing out of order. No dirty clothes on the floor, no dust covering the furniture.
Man, he’s going to blow a fuse when he comes home.
“Wow, look at this room. Who knew homeboy Troy was such an organized freak,” Fred pipes up. “Are you sure you want to do this, Charlie?”
“I found a guy taking a shit in my bathroom last weekend. Yeah, I want to do this.”
He shrugs. “Okay. You’re the boss.”
“Too bad we won’t see his reaction,” Ben says. “We should have bought a hidden camera.”
“I thought about it, but I think the chickens are punishment enough. We don’t need to add invasion of privacy on top of it,” I reply.
“Oh, glad to hear there is a line you won’t cross.” Fred chuckles.
“Ha-ha. Shut up and help me release the birds.”
“Release the Kraken!” Ben shouts.
“Make sure Troy doesn’t harm the chickens, okay, Charlie?” Tammara glances at me.
“Yeah, of course. Besides, I don’t think Troy is the type of person who hurts animals.”
Once all the chickens are free, we close the door and head downstairs. We hang out for a little bit before Fred has to return the van and Ben and Tammara go to the movies.
It’ll be hours until Troy comes home, and without company, I begin to worry about the birds loose in his room.
What if they eat something they shouldn’t?
Shit . Maybe I should have waited longer to let them out of their cages.
The lengthy wait makes me paranoid, and during the day, I check on them several times.
I’m in the kitchen making a sandwich when I hear a car door bang shut outside.
My heart skips a beat, and then it accelerates to a hundred.
I’m suddenly nervous about Troy’s reaction.
It’s one thing to lash out in the heat of the moment; it’s quite another to plan retribution.
I realize then that serving revenge cold is not my game.
Troy comes in carrying his huge duffel bag over his shoulder.
His hair is damp, pushed back off his forehead in a messy way.
A wisp of desire curls around the base of my spine, an odd contrast to the twisted ball of nerves in my belly.
I wish I weren’t attracted to the guy. It would make my life so much easier.
He glances in my direction and hesitates for a second before he says, “Hello.”
“Hi,” I croak.
Shit . Okay, Charlie, you can still stop this . There’s time to avoid Armageddon .
But as much as my conscience urges me to do something, I don’t move from my spot. Instead, I watch in frozen terror as Troy heads up the stairs. I’m literally shivering.
Ugh . This is fucking madness, Charlie. Snap out of it. Raven the Sorceress would never second-guess herself .
I turn toward the fridge and pull a bowl of strawberries and a can of whipped cream from it, setting both on the counter.
A moment later, Troy curses so loudly that I’m sure it can be heard from miles away. I wince and then glance at the front door. I can make a run for it.
“Charlie! I’m going to kill you!”
Fuck . I don’t think he’s joking. But he’s already at the stairs, so running now would be pointless. He’d be able to catch me.
“What? Didn’t like my surprise?” I ask innocently.
His hazel eyes are dark with fury, and his body is coiled tight with tension. He strides in my direction and then walks around the counter like a lion that’s about to attack. I lose my bravado then and stagger backward until my back presses against the fridge.
“My room is a fucking mess! There’s shit and feathers everywhere,” he screams, invading my personal space.
I’ve never experienced this kind of wrath aimed at me from this close, but all I can think about is how delicious Troy’s aftershave smells.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“That’s payback for the party, my ruined costumes, and Poop Boy in my bathroom. Now you know how it feels.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I said I was sorry.”
“Well, excuse me for not taking your apologies to heart. Now, get out of my way. You’re smothering me.” I press my palms against his chest and push back. He barely moves. “Troy, I’m fucking serious. Do you want me to crush your balls again?”
He narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, you won’t catch me by surprise this time.”
“Try me.”
He watches me for a couple more seconds before he finally moves away. I let out a breath of relief when he turns his back to me, but it’s too soon. A second later, he whirls around, can of whipped cream in hand, and the next thing I know, I have white foam all over my face.
I let out a shriek and then blindly try to find a towel near the sink to clean my eyes. They burn. Behind me, Troy laughs, making my blood boil. I finally find a dish towel and quickly wipe my face. I still have whipped cream everywhere, but at least now I can open my eyes.
Troy is doubled over, cackling like a madman. Him laughing at my expense snaps something in me. I see he no longer has the can in his hand, so I lunge for it. Before he can stop me, I squirt what’s left of the whipped cream on his face.
Take that, sucker!
His amusement ceases immediately. He wipes his face with the back of his forearm, but I don’t wait for him to attack again. I bolt for the stairs.
“Oh no. You’re not escaping now. It’s on.”
He tackles me, wrapping his steely arms around my body and keeping me from moving.
“Let go of me.” I struggle against his hold, though I know I won’t be able to break from his boa constrictor embrace.
“No. I won’t let you go until you apologize for all the headaches you’ve caused me since we met.”
“You’re crazy! You’re the one who’s acted like a jackass from the beginning.”
I try to stomp on his instep, missing it. However, my effort makes Troy lose his balance, and we both end up on the floor. The fall would have hurt me if Troy hadn’t taken the brunt of it.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
His hold slackens, allowing me to slide away from him. It’s not until I’m on my knees, ready to get back onto my feet, that I see he’s clutching his right arm and his face is twisted in agony.
“Are you okay?”
“No. I think I dislocated my shoulder.”
Shit . His shoulder does look weird now.
“Can you get up?”
He opens his eyes and peers at me. “Yeah. Can you call Andreas? I probably need to go to the emergency room.”
“What? Are you crazy? We’re not waiting for your friend to pick you up. I’ll take you.”
“You?” His surprised tone is obvious.
“I’m not a heartless bitch.” I crawl to his left side and help him to a sitting position.
He winces when I move him, making me feel horrible. I’m responsible for his pain. I wanted to make him suffer but not like this.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Not too bad. It’s not the first time it’s happened.”
Our eyes lock. His are bloodshot thanks to the whipped cream.
We don’t speak for several beats. The air between us seems to be charged with electricity despite our situation.
His gaze drops to my lips, making my breath catch.
My heart drums a staccato beat in my chest, the sound so loud, I’m afraid he can hear it.
“We should go. I’ll help you up.” I clutch his left arm, then drag him up with me as I rise from the messy floor.
He steps closer to me, which sets my face aflame. My entire body is humming thanks to his proximity. He’s like a beacon and I’m a moth, drawn to his light. I keep my eyes glued to his chest, but I don’t step back.
Good grief. What the hell is happening to me? Troy is the enemy, and our war probably just took him out of commission. If he didn’t hate me before, he does now.
“Charlie? You can let go.” His voice is low, strained, sexy .
Not sexy, you fool. He’s in pain.
At once, I let go of him and step back. Still not making eye contact, I return to the kitchen sink to wash my face properly. The small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when I sense Troy’s approach. I reach for a towel, stepping aside to let him use the sink as well.
“Can you help me?”
I freeze mid-motion, then slowly lower the towel from my face. He’s watching me expectantly, but I also notice the tension around his mouth. He’s trying to hide his discomfort.
“Sure.”
I grab a clean towel from the drawer, and after dampening it with lukewarm water, I offer it to him.
He glances at the offering, then back at me. “Do you mind? It hurts when I move.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.”
I try my best to focus on the task and not on the fact that Troy’s eyes are glued to my face.
Neither of us speaks as I drag the towel across his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead.
When I’m done, I move away quickly, afraid my body will betray me further and I’ll do something stupid, like lick his damn lips. I bet they taste sweet now.
Gee, Charlie, get your mind out of the gutter already.
“I should change,” I say.
“Oh no. If I have to wear a whipped-creamed T-shirt to the ER, so do you.”
“Really, Troy? Are you that petty?”
“Petty?” He arches both eyebrows. “There are a dozen chickens in my bedroom, and I have a dislocated shoulder.”
Remorse sneaks into my chest, making me lose my misplaced annoyance. “I’m sorry. Let’s go.”