46. Charlie
Charlie
Noah convinced me to study. To come back to the dorm after spending a week with him. I’m sprawled across my bed, attempting to cram for my French exam tomorrow. Mom is still locked up in a psych ward. I guess something happened, and she's refusing to take her medication.
Of course, Payton is nowhere in sight, but I don’t blame her.
I forced her to play roulette, and I didn’t tell her anything about what I was up to this summer.
But sleeping with my brother? That’s fucking low.
She’s had every opportunity to fess up. At this point, I could write a book on how to fuck up a friendship with only five syllables. Charlie Henderson.
I look down at my phone at my text messages from Noah that afternoon.
Noah: How is it going?
Charlie: Idk, I miss you I guess.
Noah: Do you wanna come over tomorrow?
My head at this point is spinning, and I’m waiting for my head to fall off.
A knock echoes off the walls in this tiny dorm room. Groaning, I push myself up, unlocking the door, only to be met with the last person I wanted to see. Brody. His arm leans against the door frame, with that cocky smile.
“What do you want?” I ask. Before I can process anything, he pushes his wide shoulders past me, stepping into the dorm room. “You can’t just walk in like that!” He ignores me, reaching behind to slam the door shut, locking it.
My heart pounds in my chest, as if seeing Brody was like meeting death. A muscle flicks in his jaw, and his face is bone-white. His eyes send a shiver down my spine. They’re so cold, so dark I don’t even think he has a soul anymore.
He reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun nestled between his jeans. He cocks it back, and it clicks. A barrel points directly at me. The metallic glint of the weapon sucks all the air from the room.
“Brody...” I step back, holding up my palms. “Why do you have a gun?”
“It’s a fucking beauty, isn’t it?”
I can’t breathe. There’s no oxygen. I’m suffocating as my lungs get tight.
My eyes dart to my phone on the edge of the mattress.
“This isn’t funny...” I breathe out the words with a nervous laugh.
He says nothing, just takes another step forward, and my feet creak on the floor.
My palms are trembling and suddenly slick with sweat.
He takes a step closer, and I can feel the air getting thinner, the walls closing in.
“We need to talk, Charlie,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “Get on the bed.” My breath hitches in my throat, a knot forming in my stomach.
“Talk?” My voice trembles. You have a gun pointed at me. This is definitely not how we talk. This isn't talking. Time seems to slow to a crawl as I stare at the gun, then back at Brody’s face. Not a single hint of emotion, just me and the devil having a face-off.
“Get on the bed, Charlie,” he orders again, his voice not faltering one bit. My legs are lead, but I back up until I hit the edge of the mattress and collapse onto it. The springs creak under my weight, the sound amplified in the suffocating silence.
“Hmm...” He licks his lips, smoldering at me. “Fuck... take off your shirt.”
“W-What? I...I... What?”
“I said, take it off.” His finger hovers over the trigger.
I’m shaking all over. “O...o...okay.” I do what I’m told and grasp the seam of my shirt to pull it over my head.
“Now take off those shorts.”
I’m sweating. My face burning, my chest on fire. My palms are so sticky that I’m fighting with the button. “Hurry up, baby.” He hums under his breath, and I notice the large bulge in his pants as he suddenly has an erection. “Hmm, fuck.”
I manage to unzip them and kick them off onto the floor. “I wanna see your tits, and that pussy.” He keeps the gun pointed at me as he strokes his hard-on through his jeans.
“B...br...Brody...”
“NOW!” he shouts, and I do what I’m told.
Unclipping the bra, letting it fall down my shoulders and I take the panties off too.
He continues to groan as he steps forward and climbs onto the squeaky mattress.
I use my hands to crawl backwards until my back meets the cold and lonely wall behind me.
He towers over me, and I sink further into the mattress where he's on top of me.
His legs straddle me and he pins me to the sheets.
The barrel glides down my cheeks, and I’m shaking everywhere. “You’re so sexy...” With his free hand he squeezes my breasts and I squirm and kick underneath him.
“Stop!” I scream out with tears welling up in my eyes.
He leans into the hollow of my neck, “Shh...shh...shh!” His hot breath is in my ears.
“We’re just getting started..” The cold barrel of the gun pushes back strands of my hair and points straight at my temple, pushing into my skull.
My face turns wet, my mouth watering, and my vision blurs, the room meshed with only smears of colors.
“We need to talk, baby.” He groans as his erection presses against my thigh and up to my navel.
“Please... please... what? W...wh...what do you want?”
“You’re gonna stop seeing that fucking faggot,” Brody leans into my neck.
“I’ve seen you at his place.” He’s biting down on my skin.
It’s not like Noah’s touch. Sharp pain radiates, my nervous system going into overdrive screaming at me to do something, but I’m pinned.
“Tell him it’s over, or I swear I’ll shoot you right here, right now. ”
My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my fear.
I’m screaming at my brain to wake me up from this nightmare.
“No...No...please stop!” I can’t even talk, my throat is closing up as if I’ve been bitten by a viper.
That serpent being Brody, who dips his tongue into my ear.
Kissing me on the neck, grinding his dick right into my leg.
“What is it, baby?” He starts grinding his rough jeans against my leg. “Do you love him?” he starts thrusting hard. Beating into my skin.
My head tells me to lie and say no, but the words tremble off my lips. “Yes... Fuck I do. I do love him...” I sob, clenching my eyes tight. “P...pl...please...please stop!”
His hand starts to tremble, his finger pressing firmly on the trigger. The bed rattles against the wall as he goes harder. Thrusting his hips, and my skin is burning from the chafing of his pants.
“You’re in love with Noah?” Brody’s voice cracked, the words hanging heavy in the air.
Tears stream down my face as I nod, unable to speak. “Please! Y...you..you...you don’t want to do this. This isn’t...this isn’t...you!”
A wave of rage washes over his face, his grip tightening on the gun.
“Have you fucked him yet?” He screams the question, spit flying out of his mouth.
He pounds like there's no tomorrow. “What do you sound like when he’s inside you?” he asks, his voice raw.
“Oh, Noah... Oh, Noah... harder, harder,” he moans it out, and my leg is so sore I think my skin is peeling off.
But then, something shifts in his eyes. The anger seems to falter, replaced by a desperate, broken look.
In a swift, horrifying motion, he turns the gun and presses it against his own temple.
Sweat coats the throbbing veins in his reddened face.
My breath hitches in my throat, a silent scream building inside me.
“If I can’t have you, then nobody can!” he chokes out, his finger trembling on the trigger.
“It’s my name you should be moaning! MINE!
” My world tilts on its axis, the room spins as I watch the guy I once thought I loved teeter on the ledge of a bridge. “You’re going to fucking end it!”
“No! No! No! Please stop! Stop!” There’s slobber and snot all over my face. My body tingles, as if every limb has fallen asleep and I’m stuck paralyzed. “Stop it!”
“Tell me you’ll end it!” Brody’s voice quivers as he continues to hump my legs, and he trembles, groaning. “Fuck...” he hums. “Fuck you feel so fucking good. Now say it!”
Desperation claws at my throat with talons. “Fine!” I cry out, my voice hoarse and trembling. “I’ll tell him! I’ll...I’ll do it! Just please stop!”
“Baby, I’m gonna come all over you.” He trembles, with his mouth falling open as he moans, and he slowly stops grinding on my leg. Something hot and moist touches me. His eyes search mine, as if trying to gauge my sincerity. “You swear on his fucking life?”
“I...I...Please leave him alone, please!”
“Swear it!”
“I swear,” I sob, sucking in a tremor. “I’ll do it. I’ll...I...I will end it tomorrow night. At the concert. I’ll tell him it’s over.”
He puts the gun back to my head. All I can hear is my heartbeat in my throat, in my head, I feel it in every vein in my body, and suddenly all of my life flashes in my mind in those two seconds.
It’s like a movie playing on fast forward.
Meeting Payton at school, sitting next to her in class, having the same teacher every year.
The amount of sleep overs we had as little girls, playing with dolls, jumping in the pool, painting our nails, and dressing up in all my moms clothes.
Then it’s Ryder, him always being that over protective brother, telling me to stop making stupid choices, and now I regret not listening to a damn word he said.
I don’t want to meet Jesus. Not like this.
I’m not ready. “Stop! Please!” It’s the last image that hits me the hardest. Noah is smiling at me, and I can hear his voice in my head as Brody pulls the trigger.
“No!”
And it just clicks.
Brody lets out the wickedest laugh I’ve ever heard. He climbs off the bed with a wet spot on his jeans. I’m mortified. There’s semen on the side of my thigh and the evidence on his jeans. He seriously got off on that.
“I’ll see you at that little concert, baby, and if you don’t end it.
Next time, it will be loaded.” Just like that, he stuffs the gun back inside his jeans, making sure his shirt conceals it.
I’m infested with goosebumps where my hairs are sticking up as he comes back over, grasping my cheeks, planting a kiss on my lips.
“You taste good.” He moans under his breath before clenching down on my throat and shoving me onto the mattress.
I lie flat on the bed, and I’m hyperventilating, my chest rising and falling so quickly.
I run a hand through my hair, fisting it as I sob.
The door opens and shuts. It was one thing for Brody to rip up my emotions like a piece of junk mail, but this is different. He’s forcing me to break my own heart.