Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
I am a glutton for punishment. Kennedy and I were already on our second margarita pitcher, with no end in sight. Wall-to-wall people filled the Pub as they played the BU game. Normally, I avoided watching like the plague, refusing to acknowledge anything hockey-related. Tonight, though, my eyes tracked every time I saw fifty-two fly across the screen. They were on fire, up three to one in the third period. I screamed when the referee didn’t make a high-sticking call against the opposing team.
Kennedy laughed at me, taking a large sip of her drink, “Didn’t you used to play?” she shouted over the other loud voices.
I looked at her from the side of my eye, “Once upon a time,” I sang and moved our conversation to safer territory. Kennedy’s eyes glued to my brother, watching him as intently as I watched Hunter.
I pointed at the screen. “Still hoping he likes hand necklaces?” I wiggled my eyebrows and Kennedy turned crimson. She bit the side of her plastic cup and attempted to play off her embarrassment.
“Nah, I heard he’s drowning in that pucky pussy, or whatever you call it.”
I snorted, “Puck bunny Ken, puck bunny .”
She knew what they were called but was trying to deflect from my actual question. I never got to ask her what happened between my brother and her the night I got arrested. Seeing them together from inside the cop car, they looked cozy, sparking my curiosity.
Kennedy abruptly changed the subject. “Shots!” She screamed, maneuvering her way up to the packed bar. I watched as she climbed her small body up and over the bar top and waved to get the bartender’s attention. Kennedy was the person who could command a room with just her smile and still not realize how captivating she was. Even though she was unabashedly herself with me, I picked up on her shyness with others—especially men. The instant a good-looking guy looked at her, she clammed up and started rambling about the weirdest subjects. Earlier, she started telling a guy on the football team obscure facts about Fall Out Boy. Poor guy didn’t know what to do with all that information about Pete Wentz. I wondered if she was a virgin, but didn’t want to ask. It didn’t matter if she was or wasn’t—she was a catch and any guy would be lucky to have her.
She came back holding a set of red-colored shots. Kennedy handed me one, clinking the plastic cup against my own before downing it. Following suit, I made a face at the sickly sweet cherry taste.
“Ugh, what the hell was that?” I asked.
“Vodka sir?p!” She said with a slight French accent on the second word.
“I thought you were pissed at the kid who ‘fucked off to France’,” I said, using air quotes to reiterate her own explanation.
“I am, doesn’t mean that I can’t embrace the shots around the world menu, plus it was a dollar. ”
“Ah, now that explains it, but that seriously tasted like ass.” I screwed up my face and took a sip of my drink, trying to rid the medicine-like taste from my mouth.
“But cheeeeap,” Kennedy sang. I laughed at her antics, stopping to scream at the television when the ref tried to call Jackson offsides.
“That’s bullshit!” I yelled.
A few other patrons yelled similar accolades at the nasty call. Despite the shitty referees and bogus calls, BU won. Kennedy and I cheered and chanted the school fight song with the rest of The Pub. A few people threw their pitchers in the air and I laughed as beer fell on us like raindrops.
“This school is insane about their hockey,” Kennedy laughed.
I nodded in response, making our way to the exit. We said our goodbyes outside The Pub and parted ways with a promise to text each other when we got to our apartments. Kennedy lived in the opposite direction of me, and we decided against walking each other home. I was proud of myself for not overdoing it tonight. I had drunk just the right amount to feel something, but could still walk in a straight line. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and was shocked to see a text from Hunter,
Hunter:
Naughty girl, thought we agreed no drinking?
Looking around, I half expected him to jump out of a bush while I cut through the Uptown area. Cutting across campus would make my trip home shorter and I appreciated the blue emergency buttons that were littered around. BU was safe, but even safe towns had crime. Don’t even get me started on Israel Keyes. That man killed people because of convenience . Queue full body chills .
Another text came through my phone before I could respond to his last one.
Hunter:
Kennedy posted photos of you two at The Pub. :p
Shit. He was right. I had taken a bunch of snaps with her throughout the evening. Of course, he had seen them after the game. I was an idiot, and I am pretty sure there were quite a few with me drinking in them, too.
I rubbed my forehead, chin tucked down, and my eyes focused on my screen. I obsessed about what to type. Did I apologize? Beg him not to hold up my end of the bargain? Did I tell him the truth?
Settling on the latter, I typed my response.
Maci:
Kennedy makes me feel like the old me.
I didn’t expect him to give in to my unasked plea. I picked up on the fact that Hunter liked to be in control. It was something I never paid attention to before, but as we spent more time together, it became apparent. It wasn’t a scary controlling, but a protective-alpha male type of thing. I daydreamed on more than one occasion if he was the same in the bedroom. The thought of him bossing me around in bed sent tingles between my legs and made my panties wet.
Hunter’s reply caused my phone to vibrate, but before I could open the text, someone knocked their shoulder roughly into my own. My phone went flying out of my hands and clattered away from me on the ground. I looked up, surprised by being jarred so suddenly.
A man in a black sweatshirt with the hood up stalked past me. He didn’t turn around, and I scrambled to pick my phone back up. Glancing over my shoulder, his retreating figure moved farther and farther away. He was easily a foot taller than me, with wide shoulders and a large frame that resembled a linebacker. Fear that he would turn back around and shove me again, or worse, caused me to pick up the pace. There would be no way I could defend myself if he came back.
I shakily pulled my phone out and clicked on Hunter’s contact. A statistic I heard once said that women who were engaged with someone on the phone were less likely to be victims of crime. The validity of the statement was unknown to me, but I’m shaken enough to attempt the charade. Jackson and I still weren’t talking, so he wasn’t an option to call and I knew Kennedy was likely home and passed out by now.
“Sunshine, we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” His voice sounded like smooth velvet, relaxing me immediately.
“Sorry to bother you—” My breath hitched while I looked over my shoulder again, ensuring that the mysterious man was gone.
“Are you going to tell me why I shouldn’t punish you for breaking our deal?” His voice lowered and the sounds of the team loading onto the bus filtered through. He must be standing outside. The loud rumble of the engine was louder than the jeers of the team. The idea of Hunter punishing me brought my earlier thoughts rushing back, making my cheeks burn.
“You’re impossible. You know that, right?” I exited the quad onto one of the principal streets that ran through campus. It was only a few more minutes to my building, and I was ready to get behind a locked door.
Hunter chuckled, and I hoped he would drop the subject?.
“I’ll let it slide, but I mean it, Mace, you need to be sober. Don’t make me tie your cute ass down to my bed, I’ll gladly do it,” His voice rumbled and my stomach flipped.
I enjoyed how bold Hunter had become when talking to me. It inched more and more toward the idea that he liked me as more than a friend. I couldn’t be sure, seeing as Hunter had made it his life’s mission to treat me like a kid sister for the last few years. But how he talked to me now made me feel desired.
“I’m not responding to that.” I grunted.
“Well, as much as I want to keep talking with you, I need to get on the bus,” He trailed off as he waited for me to explain the reason for my call. Did he hope it was because I wanted to hear his voice? I probably should have congratulated him on his win tonight, even though he was the one who distracted me.
“Um, is there any way you can stay on the phone with me for just a few more minutes? You don’t need to say anything,” I rushed.
“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” I could hear him jog up the steps and there was a shuffling sound as he switched to talking to me on his Airpods.
“It’s stupid…” I trailed off.
“Tell me.” He demanded, a rustling noise muffled his voice as if his Airpods were rubbing against fabric. He mumbled an apology to someone. I imagined he was attempting to clamber through his teammates to a seat on the bus.
“Someone bumped into me on my way home and I just had a weird vibe about it. I heard this statistic somewhere that women who were on the phone when walking had a lower chance of becoming a victim?—”
“Maci,” he growled, but I didn’t let him finish.
“It’s fine. I was just being paranoid. I’m home.” Seeing my door, I made quick work of unlocking the door. Leaning against the cool metal, a sigh of relief slid past my lips.
“Do me a favor, please don’t walk home alone anymore,” His response came from gritted teeth .
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not not going out after dark Hunt, it was just one creepy guy. I’m fine.”
“It only takes one creepy guy to become a victim,” Hunter pointed out.
I didn’t like that he was right, but I wouldn’t tell him that either. After going back and forth a few more times about my general safety, Hunter let me know he needed to go. I shrugged out of my jacket, hanging it over the side of my couch. Making my way into my room, I stopped, frozen to the ground by the sight before me.
My heart hammered in my chest as the familiar feeling of panic creeped up my spine. Scrawled on the wall above my bed in eerie crimson paint was the word “ MURDERER ”. The paint was still wet, slowly dripping down my wall like rivulets of blood. I gulped in air and slowly looked around my room. My door had been locked when I came home, and the windows didn’t open. Someone had gotten access to my apartment. A pit formed in my stomach as my breaths came in shallow waves. The beginnings of a panic attack loomed. The feeling of helplessness gripped me in its icy fist.
Changing my locks was the easiest solution. I marched back into my living room and moved my couch against the door. It was heavy enough that someone would need to use force to open it, and it would cause a commotion if they did so. I refused to run out of my home because of some pranks. I quickly changed into comfier clothes and ordered a home security system from Amazon. It was the kind that you could set up yourself and pay for independent monitoring. It will be at my doorstep tomorrow. Thank you, Prime shipping.
With that settled, I spent the next few hours scrubbing the paint off my wall with paint thinner. Fuck whoever did this, turpentine is expensive.