Chapter 2 #2
I cringed at the sounds of Victor’s bones crunching and popping out of place. It sounded like permanent damage. Victor screamed out, gripping his shattered jaw and catching some of the blood and teeth that leaked out of his mouth in his hands. I looked away, completely grossed out.
“Get out!” Shot Guy shouted, ignoring the obvious pain Victor was in. The man clearly needed to go to the emergency room, but Shot Guy didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Victor, crying, shuffled out of the room as quickly as he could.
If anyone had asked me in that moment, I would have said that even in the midst of what must’ve been excruciating pain, Victor appeared to be mindful of not dropping any of his blood on Shot Guy’s wooden floors.
When we were finally alone, Shot Guy glanced at me for a second, stuffing the gun back to where he’d pulled it from, and turning around to leave.
I wondered if he was going after Victor.
I wondered if he maybe knew my sister and was getting her.
Maybe he needed people to help move me so that I could go somewhere else.
I believed I heard him say this was his bedroom.
It was a large room. Like everything else in this house, really.
The walls were painted a dark navy blue color, undecorated except for a large calendar by the closet door.
On one side of his large bed was a night table where the alarm clock was.
On the side closer to me, was a black desk-bookshelf combination.
On the desk was a large black computer screen, a box of tissues, and computer accessories.
His shelves were lined with dozens of books—some titles I recognized, some I didn’t.
Everything in here was so...clean. I decided it wasn’t farfetched to assume a house this large would also be staffed with maids.
The door creaked open again, and I panicked.
“It’s me,” Shot Guy said to my alarmed features, closing the door behind him. He said it as though we were already familiar with one another. I didn’t even know his name. I’d been calling him Shot Guy in my head all night. In his hands, he held up a red cup and two white pills.
He pulled out the desk chair beside the bed and sat, offering me the cup. “Water,” he said, answering my unspoken question, a hint of a Southern intonation in his pronunciation. “And aspirin. If you need it.”
When I didn’t reach for either of them, he set the cup down on the desk and pulled his gun from his waistband. I flinched, holding my breath. It didn’t escape his notice, and he smiled bitterly.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he promised, opening his desk drawer and setting it inside. “I was just puttin’ it away,” he clarified as he pushed the drawer closed. I didn’t blink. “You’re safe. I promise. Drink the water. It’ll flush your system.”
Wordlessly, I tried to reach for the cup. My arm felt impossibly heavy and my hands shook as I stretched forward. He watched my wobbly limbs and realization flashed in his features.
“Oh,” he said simply, understanding. Picking up the cup, he rolled his desk chair closer to me and slowly guided the cup to my lips.
“Tilt your head back a little,” he instructed quietly, placing a supporting hand on my back.
It was at this time that I was reminded that Victor had unzipped the back of my dress all the way to my lower back.
Shot Guy’s hand on my bare skin took me by surprise at first, but just as quickly, I relaxed again.
I took three big gulps of water before he drew back.
Shot Guy pulled the cup away from my face, examining my face for a moment.
His light brown eyes burned into mine for what felt like the briefest second of my life before I broke eye contact, looking away.
After that, I felt him reach behind me, and wordlessly pull the zipper of my dress back up.
He looked at me the same way most people look at stray puppies. I was drowning in the pity that radiated off of him. I suppose to most people, a person who behaves this way in the midst of a traumatic event is a blessing. To me? His sympathy just made what had happened that much more real.
“Do you want the aspirin?”
I shook my head at his question. My response was rushed and alarmed, as if I didn’t trust whatever pills he’d give me.
He looked at me for what felt like an eternity, and then accepted it, shrugging before tilting my head back again for more water.
I took two more gulps and decided I didn’t want anymore.
Shot Guy rolled his chair away from me, popping the two aspirin on his desk into his mouth and drinking the last of the water I’d left in the cup.
“I have a headache,” he explained to my curious eyes. I looked away from him, dragging the hem of my skirt as far as I could stretch it. I could still feel his eyes on me, so I continued to look down at my lap. His voice was softer when he said, “Hey.”
Hesitantly, I looked up. Under the light of the moon, his golden brown eyes practically glowed. I wanted so badly to say something, possibly even thank him. However, even the simple act of staying awake at that moment was taking so much out of me. My words were caught in my throat.
“Lay down,” he instructed quietly. With that, panic started to rise from within me again before he added, “Whatever he slipped you has got you dead tired, and you should sleep it off.”
I started to decline the offer, but he raised a single eyebrow at my hesitance, silently informing me that we weren’t about to have a back and forth on the matter. My cheeks felt hot, and I looked back down at my lap, discretely letting out a measured breath to slow my heartbeat.
Are you seriously blushing? I mentally reprimanded myself.
The foolishness of my behavior somehow managed to escape his notice as he waited for me to give in.
From where he sat at his desk, he was a respectable distance away from me and it didn’t seem like he intended on getting any closer.
If I was being completely honest with myself, even though he was a complete stranger… I felt safe. I felt safe with him here.
And in that safety, I finally let the sleep I’d been fighting since drinking The Punch take over.
***
I woke up terrified.
For a moment, my most recent memory was Victor and his hands. Everything else came after, and my breathing leveled out as I remembered Shot Guy, the gun-punch, the cup of water, the unwanted aspirin. Running a hand down my cheeks, my breathing began to slow.
“Welcome back.” I flinched at the unexpected sound. “How do you feel?”
I followed the sound of his voice, sitting up from where I laid.
He was sitting in the same place that I’d left him when I’d fallen asleep—his desk.
This time, however, his computer was on and it was giving off the only light in the room.
Shot Guy moved forward, reaching for his desk lamp, lighting the room.
Under the light, I was finally able to get a good look at his face again.
With a clearer mind, I decided once and for all that the man in front of me was very handsome.
Perfect, actually. I knew that I was staring, but a little part of me felt like when someone looks like that, they’re used to getting stared at.
I’m not entirely sure I even blinked while I ogled at him so shamelessly. His jawline was strong and angular—sharp enough to cut diamonds, truly. The lower half of his face was peppered with a hint of what could have been one missed shave, flecking his chocolate brown skin with black hairs.
Shot Guy’s smooth, dark skin was unfairly perfect, not even a freckle interrupting its flawlessness.
His penetrating eyes were a light brown, adding a subtle soft touch to his otherwise very masculine face.
The way his eyes contrasted with his deep complexion made for a memorable set of features.
From his eyes, I followed the bridge of his nose down to his perfect lips.
Unconsciously, I bit down on mine. Holy shit…
It was the sound of him clearing his throat that snapped me out of my daze. Quickly, I tried to stop myself from violating him with my unblinking gawk. I met his eyes again, and soon realized he’d been watching me stare at his lips for what was entirely too long. My cheeks grew warm.
“What time?” I asked first, and he seemed genuinely surprised to hear my voice.
He looked at the lit computer screen in front of him and replied, “A little after three. You’ve been asleep for about four and a half hours.”
Below us, the sounds of the party continued to rage on. Looking over Shot Guy, it didn’t look like he’d moved the entire time I’d been sleeping here. He’d really decided to miss the entire evening to keep watch over me as I slept. I could almost call him sweet for the gesture.
My eyes darted throughout every inch of the bedroom, settling on the blue blanket that was draped over my body. It hadn’t been there when I’d fallen asleep. I absolutely had to call him sweet for that.
“Thank you,” I said finally. “Not just for the blanket, but for…” I trailed off, letting out a sigh. “You know.”
He simply nodded, offering me a sympathetic smile. It was an unfortunate situation and I could tell that he didn’t want to rip open fresh wounds by making a big deal about what he’d done for me. If I never had to talk about what happened tonight ever, I would be thankful.
“My name’s Lauren,” I changed the subject, my voice coming out shy.
“Lauren,” he repeated it back to himself as if he was mentally taking note. Honestly, my own name had never sounded so enticing. He broke into a smile, displaying teeth that were, of course, beautifully straight and so white that they shined. That smile was everything.
My mouth slightly fell open at the sheer amount of blessings bestowed on one person. I was slow to pick my jaw back up. He passed a hand over his brush cut casually, as if he couldn’t see me liquefying before him.
“I’m Kain.”