Chapter 5 Mackenzie
In the corner of Gavin’s room, stands a girl of five foot two. With a pair of emerald green eyes, that watch me intently. Well, I’m sure they used to be a pretty pair, now there’s only one. The other is a gaping hole that filters light through it, straight to the other side.
I couldn’t save her.
I couldn’t save her.
I know that that’s what my brother would say, but guilt riddles through me anyway. It climbs up my spine and into my chest, clutching my heart in a vise grip that makes it hard to to believe anything but the fact that I could have stopped it.
She usually only appears when I’m alone, but last night I got so frustrated—I looked at her. And now she won’t leave me alone, peering desperately at us, at me from across the room.
I know what I have to do.
I have to acknowledge her; I have to help her realize that she’s passed on. But how do I do that when I feel like I’m drowning? How can I help her when I can’t even help myself?
What if I fuck it up? I’m used to things being a lot.
But seeing myself get shot—I can’t even unscramble the thoughts in my own brain.
And every time I commune with the dead, it weighs heavily on me.
I’m not ready for that weight—not today.
I thought that if I came over to Gavin’s, she’d go away, or at least give me a break, but I was wrong.
“Baby.” Gavin’s voice is a distant whisper I could live without.
As I stare blankly at the wall in front of me, still reeling from the events over the last week, my head pounds incessantly. It’s been a whirlwind, a media circus of reports trying to get the latest news, interviewing students and faculty who might have known or been in class with “the shooter.”
Michael Grey is his name, by the way—ordinary, regular Michael Grey.
I think I had a chemistry lab with him once, maybe even passed him in the hall, but I never knew him personally. And no matter how much I scan my memory, nothing ever seemed “off” with him.
Why is the world this way?
Why do people wake aiming to ruin lives?
Reporting live right outside of St. Aurelius University tonight, where an active shooter opened fire inside one of the academic halls.
Officials confirm two students are dead and at least four others are being treated for minor injuries after the terrifying incident unfolded earlier this afternoon.
Witnesses say the suspect entered the building just after 3 p.m., heavily armed, before shots rang out in a crowded hallway.
Chaos broke out as students scrambled to safety. The fire alarm got pulled by somebody, which investigators believe may have prevented a much higher casualty count.
The suspect, identified as a twenty-one-year-old male student, was taken into custody at the scene without further incident. As of now, the investigators still have no apparent motive.
Classes at St. Aurelius University have been canceled for the remainder of the week. There is a vigil on New Jersey Campus in memory of the victims, and grief counselors will be available to all students and faculty to process today’s tragedy.
We’ll continue to keep you updated as new details emerge. For now, live at St. Aurelius University, this is Chelsa Chavez for Channel 7 News.
I’ve listened to that news report what seems like a thousand times, trying to make heads or tails of such a need for violence, a craving to spread pain, a senseless act resulting in lost lives.
It’s been a week, and I still have nothing.
“Baby.” Gavin’s lips are warm, a whispered kiss feathering over my shoulder. His arm curls around my waist, the bedsheets rustling as he moves to slide behind me at the edge of his bed.
“I’ve missed you so much.” His hot breath tickles my neck as he plants another kiss. “Please talk to me. Tell me that you’re okay.
But that wouldn’t be true, would it? I’m not okay. In fact, I am exponentially the furthest thing from okay. Every moment, I feel like a boiling kettle, pressure building in my head until I want to scream. But at the same time, I also feel so…numb.
And still that fucking spirit watches me from the corner.
As I turn my head, my gaze meets his, and I lie. “Yeah, baby. I’m okay.” I smile, lip twitching in an almost painful display of deception.
He searches my eyes, molten brown clashing with my onyx storm, before his soft lips press against mine. He’s slow at first, wanting to be cautious as if I’m a delicate glass heart that might break in his grasp, until his need wins out.
Objectively, Gavin Wakins is handsome. His low-cut Caesar is always sharp, with deep waves.
Around six foot two, with broad shoulders and a chiseled jawline.
He has smooth, deep brown skin, and a Colgate smile that’s liable to send a heart into overdrive—it used to make my stomach do cartwheels, until the night I found someone else in his arms.
We met freshman year, took things slow, but now—
“You taste so sweet,” he says, turning me around to tug me onto his lap. I wrap my legs around him, just as his tongue swipes over my bottom lip then slithers into my mouth.
I roll my hips once, and it’s like plugging into an outlet—I need him to make my mind go silent.
My pants come in short bursts as I find my pleasure, rocking my hips harder and faster. But even as I’m here with Gavin, he’s nothing more than the weight of a body moving against mine. Because I’m not thinking about him.
His hands clamp down on my thighs, trying to slow my motion, but I don’t stop. I can’t. I’m chasing what I need, using him for leverage, for heat, for relief.
“If you don't stop,” he pants, his voice a low growl between wet, sloppy kisses. “I’m going to fuck you.”
Gavin’s emotions have never been complex, but I still feel all of them—take, fuck, own—he recycles the same ones. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything more coming from him. But he’s a good pretender, and two can play that game.
“Then fuck me, Gavin,” I breathe into his mouth, my hips pumping faster as he groans. “Fuck me, make me feel better.”
He yanks me off him, and I find myself face down, buried in the mattress, ass high in the air as he peels my boy shorts down my thighs.
He sinks into me in no time. Stretching me, filling me, but not nearly enough to make me feel something. My mind drifts back to those crystal blue eyes that seem to want to steal my final breath.
“Oh God, yes…fuck me!” I moan, pressing up onto my palms. I toss my head back, my hair cascading onto my back as Gavin thrusts into me with strangled grunts.
“Fuck…babe. You’re so sexy,” he grits out, his hips snapping against my ass. But I don’t want to hear him—all I want to hear is the voice that haunts me.
Or something. Just two fucking words, and they unraveled me. All I seem to think about is what the something is.
“Jesus Christ, Mackenzie,” he growls when I start to arch into him more, meeting his strokes equally—but it’s not enough; I need more.
“Shut up!” I hiss, frustration oozing out of me. Sitting up on my knee, I reach behind me to cover his mouth. He catches himself on one arm as I push him back, riding him, desperate to come.
“Fuck…fuck…shit,” he mumbles from under my palm. “I’m gonna c-co…get off…get off.”
Motherfuck—I didn’t even get to come.
On top of my royally fucked life, the last thing I need is to be a teen mom.
So, I leap off him, scrambling, toward the pillows as if he were threatening my life.
I manage to get away before cum shoots out of him—he pumps his dick until the last drop dips out of him, eyes rolled back, staining his dark blue duvet beneath us
“Ah, fuck,” he whimpers, his whole body shuttering. It takes everything I’ve got not to make a face. I’m not sure why I stayed after he came clean about cheating. At the time, I guess I just thought fixing what we had would be better than starting over with an evil I didn’t know.
They always say the devil you know is better than the one you don’t—being with Gavin is better than the constant crushing feeling of being alone.
And though these last few months have been total shit, a constant mental marathon of time being spent worrying about who he’s with, or if my dumb ass is gonna get played again…he fills the void—the space in the silences that whispers…jump.
But sometimes my thoughts get dark, like if murder were legal for twenty-four hours—
I roll my eyes, slipping under the sheets and turning onto my side. Gavin slides up behind me, pressing his semi-hard cock in between my cheeks. His finger grips my shoulder as he presses kisses to my neck.
“I’m still hard. Wanna go again?”
“No.” I shrug his hand off. “I want to sleep.”
“Okay, grumpy.” The sheets shuffle as he pulls me closer to him, giving my neck another peck.
“I’m not grumpy,” I mumble. “I’m tired.”
“Okay,” he whispers, sweeping two kisses along my spine.
“Well, go to sleep then.” The covers shift again as he moves to turn off a lamp on the side table with a click, before looping his arm around my waist to tug me closer.
“Oh, we are having the Valentine’s Day party next Friday.
You still want to come…right?” His voice is almost apprehensive, with a slight tremor, as if I said no, he might break.
Such a delicate game we play…
“You guys are still having it?” I whisper, my eyes plastered to his open closet. Although I can’t be sure, I swear there is a shadow, a figure staring back at me.
“We figured after…everything—” Gavin pauses, considering his words carefully. “I just think everyone deserves a little fun right now.”
“Sure, I’ll be there,” I say, my voice is so dull, so stripped of light, a thoughtless answer.
“Good.” He snuggles me tighter, breathing me in. “Te amo, corazón.”
My body starts to shiver, but I don’t think Gavin notices, and if he does, he doesn’t say a word, falling asleep in record time. As he starts to snore, the figure moves, stepping out of the shadows.