Dirty roulette, p.28
Dirty Roulette, page 28
“What do you say?” His Adam's Apple convulses. The evil look on his face makes my mouth water.
“All you need to do is write it down.” He pulls a pen out of the pockets of his slacks and places it on the table. He opens the folder with a document for a witness statement.
It slides over to my side of the table. I gulp down the lump of lies I’m about to write on the sheet of paper. I push the cap off the pen and stare down at the document and the dull lines.
A high-pitched noise seeps into my ears as the tip of the pen meets the lines and I start to write out the lie. Choking back the pain welling up in my throat, I have no choice. If Charlie has any shot, it’s going to be this sheet of paper.
I finished writing him a five-paragraph essay retracting my entire statement, and act like the word rape didn’t exist in the dictionary. I push it across the table with the pen and lean back in the chair.
A wicked smirk forms on his lips, reading it and making sure everything he wants is in ink. Might as well slice my hand open and sign it in blood to seal the deal I made with the devil.
He motions at the officer with two fingers. “We’re good here.”
The officer cocks a brow. “Looks like you got lucky,” he mutters and opens the door for me. The officer takes me through the hallways until we reach the main front lobby. I’m given back my wallet, phone, keys, and book bag.
The smell of rain meets my lungs when I step out of the double doors. My phone only has ten percent battery life and I manage to schedule an Uber before it powers off.
Chapter thirty-seven
Payton
Ihaven’t done much, other than rotting in bed and leaving an impression of my fetal position. All I want to do is sleep, but I can’t. My brain blew a fuse, and it forgot how sleep works. I’ve stared at the fan whirring above me for hours. The tick from a loose screw fills the stale air, and the hanging rod rocks side to side like it might rip off the ceiling at any second.
Mum encouraged me to go back to the dorms and wait it out. I waited thirty minutes before I showed up at her doorstep again. I can’t regurgitate the past and formulate words about what happened to Ryder, or relive the events at the concert, and the guys groping me. It’s a night terror and I can’t wake up.
Charlie is dead silent and off the radar too. She’s given me the cold shoulder before, but I don’t even get the notification that she read my messages. When I call it goes straight to voicemail. It’s a proven fact that she can’t block anyone for more than twenty-four hours but it's been five days since the concert. I really screwed up.
Ryder, the only remaining solace I thought I had left, was hauled off in handcuffs. There are no shoulders for me to lean on. I’ve spun around the idea that Charlie is dead. I’ve plotted out Ryder going to prison and a brick wall separating us. The only way to talk to each other would be through a corded phone, separated by a glass window, for fifteen minutes once a month.
I’ve sobbed, hurting from losing both of them. I lost count of how many times I wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my hoodie but it’s been enough times my skin burns and bunches around the rims of my eyes. I’m convinced my tears have given me a rash.
Scrolling through my social media makes it worse. The number of messages in red keeps getting bigger. Every hour there are twenty more. There are over a hundred friend requests from random dudes. The calls, the text messages. I can’t handle it anymore. I turned off my phone, and at this point, I need to change my number and get the hell out of dodge.
After my brain runs a marathon of emotions, I do finally sleep. When I wake up, I'm already tired and ready for bed again. Mourning doves sing their songs by the window. When I go to the bathroom, I’m faced with meeting my reflection in the mirror. I look pale, like a corpse shoved in a morgue freezer. It takes me two seconds to fall to my knees and throw up in the toilet bowl. The fun yellow bile swimming in my stomach comes up in globs.
The past three days have been like this. I go through the same process and brush my teeth, scraping my tongue clean from the sour taste. I’m lightheaded, my brain throbbing as I use the wall to support my weight as I trudge out of the bathroom. Mum and Rey have already left for work, leaving the trailer to be still and quiet.
My feet creak down the hallway to the small kitchen. When I open the fridge, my stomach churns even more while I stare at a gallon of milk, butter, eggs, and a case of beer. I forgot this part of living here. Mum doesn’t buy a lot of food so I’d eat at Charlie’s. At this rate, if I don’t try to eat I’m going to shrivel up into dust particles. I let the door close and the fridge seals shut with a soft click.
The screen door rattles as fists bang on the door. I’m jump-scared to look at a shadow moving around the patio. “Payton!” They cup their eyes glancing through the windows shielded by blinds. It’s Ryder. I’m quick to unlock the door and the screen flings open.
“They let you go?” I ask.
Ryder stumbles over his feet, coming in. His hair is disheveled, he hasn’t shaved with the patchiness along his jawline. Bloodshot eyes meet mine, and I think I’m staring right into my reflection.
“Why won’t you answer your phone? I tried calling you.”
I smell the Hennessy on him. It’s seeping off his skin, and I don’t even think he realizes he’s over here with how glazed over his eyes are. It’s ten in the morning and he’s wasted.
“How much did you drink?”
“Why are you ignoring my calls?” He grasps my shoulders with firm hands, shaking me as if it will get the answer out of me.
“I’m not going to talk to you like this.”
“Where is Charlie? You always know where she is.”
“I don’t know where she is.” I shake my head and a hard pulse rockets in my chest. I can almost taste my bloody heart in the back of my throat.
“I trusted... I trusted you. I could have stopped him...” He releases me and runs his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. He hitches a sob and his back meets the wall as he runs a hand down his wet face. “I don’t even know how to tell my mom, I don’t know where my sister is.”
“You haven’t heard from her either?”
“No one has! If you two didn’t steal my Jeep or that damn vodka, none of this would have happened!”
“So you came over here to tell me it's my fault. Everything is my fault! I wish you’d get it! I wish you’d understand why I didn’t want to tell her anything!”
“Get what? Tell me!”
“I never dated anyone in high school because I wanted to be with you. I thought after prom I had a chance but you came home with Brittni, and it fucked me up. I didn’t want anyone but you, and then I saw what dating did to Charlie. I watched her get burned, and now I can’t be with the one person that I fell in love with. I would have never stood a chance with you if Roulette didn’t happen. How do you think I am supposed to feel, how was I gonna tell her how I felt about you without it backfiring? But you proved to me everything Charlie warned me of. I’ll never be happy with you!”
“So I’m the one who hurt you?” Ryder runs a hand over his mouth. “Don’t sit here and tell me you’re in love with me. You left, you walked out on me and told me you didn’t think we should see each other anymore.”
I’m right there with him, sobbing so hard I can’t even manage to swallow the large lump lodged in my throat. I might as well vomit all over myself because bile is swimming again, and I’m surprised it hasn’t burned a hole right through my stomach.
“Shut up!” I scream harder than the damn metalheads I blast through my speakers.
“No! I’ve loved you for fucking years! I’ve done nothing but protect you two. I’m the one scaring the assholes off because I know what they want. I’ve been dragging you two out of parties, I’m the one who intervened with Roulette. I got my ass beat to help you. I sat in a jail cell for two nights because again you two keep making stupid-ass choices. Don’t sit here and tell me you love me.”
I stalk up to him and ram my palms against his chest as relentlessly as I can. “Shut the hell up!” I punch and bang on his chest, using all my weight, but he doesn’t budge. “Leave! Get the hell out!”
He grasps my wrist. “No!” I twist and bend my arms, slapping and shoving him in all directions as he walks me backward, and I’m greeted with a cold wall to my back. He tangles his hands into my hair. “I love you! For fuck's sake, I love you!”
I hitch a sob at his words. “You’re drunk!” My body is unable to carry my weight as I feel myself crumbling, but he’s the one holding me together in his arms. “All you do is drink! You don’t love me, you love that bottle!” I shove my weight into him, but his lips tasting of salt and bitterness mesh into mine. His face is soaking wet as I grab his cheeks, and I fall into him, my lips molding into his, our tongues tangled together. My chest aches. This isn’t him, this isn’t Ryder. It’s the bottle talking, it’s the bottle kissing me. Not Ryder. Hennessy does nothing but lie to him when he thinks it will make him feel better.
I pull away. “Please, I can’t do this with you.”
His head drops to the floor, his body shaking all over the place. He bangs a fisted hand into the wall, over and over again as he softly cries.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He wipes his nose and, just like he stormed in, he rushes out the door, with it slamming behind him.
Chapter thirty-eight
Ryder
Istand under the sizzling hot shower for an hour. When the water finally runs cold, I turn the dial and get out. A biohazard team was needed when it came to my teeth. I still can’t wash off the taste of being in a cell, or the taste of being greeted this evening with regurgitating Hennessy. The toothpaste spat in the sink was crimson. I scraped my gums and tongue until everything was raw and throbbing. I even threw out the toothbrush and grabbed a new one from under the cupboard.
Sitting on the edge of my bed in nothing but my boxers, I scroll through the dozens of messages I sent to Charlie. Not a single response. Her online profiles say the last time she was active was the night of the concert. Now it’s been almost a week.
I dial up Mom, and the phone rings for several long moments, but eventually I hear the shuffle and the sleepy groan on the other end.
“Hey baby,” Mom says and clears her throat.
I firm my grip on the phone, as my palms turn clammy. “Sorry, were you sleeping?” I check the time on my phone and realize it’s past ten in the evening. I didn’t even think to check how late it was.
Mom yawns as she says, “Yeah, it’s okay though.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask, my mouth watering as I inch myself closer to asking her about Charlie. But it’s wishful thinking that she’s at home with Mom.
“I’m doing better, the church is offering me a free retreat. It’s for women like me. I think it will help... and umm...” She pauses for a moment and I hear the shudder in her voice. “They are going to pay off the bills for the next three months. We’ve donated so much money to them, they are going to help us out.”
I run a hand over my face, and say, “That sounds great.” I pause, my lungs constricting as I stare at the headlights of cars passing through the blinds illuminating the walls with streaks of light. “Have you heard from Charlie?” My gaze goes to my feet, and the dirty laundry littering my floor.
“No, why? I haven’t even heard from you the past three days either. Everything okay?” she asks. I’m not sure how to break the news to her that I was released from a jail cell, my knuckles are bruised and swollen, or that I don’t have a clue as to where my sister is.
“I haven’t heard from her. I thought maybe she came home.”
“Did you check the dorm? She’s not even a mile away from you.” Mom asks.
“No, I kinda got into a fight with her last week.”
“About what?”
“I was dating Payton...” I say.
“I could see that coming ages ago, she’s a sweetheart. I always liked having her around even though Charlie would fight with her like they were siblings. It was always over something stupid like stolen makeup. Payton’s been a part of the family for years. She’s a lot better than that other girl you always brought over.”
Mom approves of Payton. It makes me sick to my stomach to destroy the hype of Payton ever coming around again after what happened. “We kept it from Charlie, and when she found out she didn’t take it very well. I haven’t heard from her.” I swallow hard, my heart collapsing to my stomach.
“Is everything alright? You sound different.”
“Mom...” I shudder in a deep breath as I fight the words on my tongue. “Something happened, and I need your help.”
“Something happened? What do you mean?”
“I think she’s missing... and... I need your help, please.”
“Okay... okay,” I hear the shuffles on the other end and the sound of the screen door shutting behind her. The crunch of the gravel below her feet. “I’m grabbing my keys baby, I’ll be over there.”
I sat there in my bed staring at the walls as car lights passed by. Mom came, grabbed me, and now I stare at the map of the city with hands in my pockets as Mom talks with the police officer. It’s silent in the waiting area with rows of empty blue plastic chairs. The flag hanging off the wall flutters from the vent above it, and all the cubicles are empty as the officer writes down on a clipboard all the information about Charlie.
And we filed it.
Charlie is officially a missing person.
Chapter thirty-nine
Payton
Itried college today. I went to practice, did most of my missing assignments. I step out of the Uber and walk up the porch steps to the trashy trailer I moved back into. I say nothing. Mum tells me to stay in the dorms but there is no way I’m staying there.
Clearly the videos and pictures Brody posted are still trending on his stupid dirty laundry website. My phone won’t stop blowing up. Every five minutes, someone else is calling me from an unknown number. I’m mortified. I’m going to have to live with being an easy S-L-U-T, even though I’m a virgin. If I change my number I’ll have to start spilling the tea to Mum, and I don’t want to fess up to a damned thing. The disappointment in her eyes is the last thing I need.
Rey lounges on the couch. He’s wearing one of his cutoff shirts and a black pair of shorts that were popular for maybe thirty seconds in the 80s. He’s smoking and watching whatever show he likes best out of the thirteen channels they get for free from the old satellite on the roof. It usually went to Judge Judy, and at some point, the Local News will be on.
Rey doesn’t say anything to me. He just takes in a long drag of his cigarette, and I scurry down the narrow hallway to my room.
I tidy up, make my bed, and wash a hundred pounds of laundry. Scrambling through my bathroom, I flip on the light thinking there is no logical way my life has become this bad. I put my toiletries in pleasant spots on the counter with the pit of my stomach falling on the floor knowing I don’t want to go back to that campus.
At the dining table, I spend some time on the computer working on assignments and the math program that guides me through the algebra questions. Ryder helped me so much before, and helped me bring up my grade, but now it’s slipping again.
After a good hour, Mum pulls up in the driveway in her Mustang, pissed off with her day. The purse is tossed onto the counter. A lighter snaps over a cigarette wedged between her index and middle finger. A glass of wine is filled to the brim in her other hand and she twirls it around, smelling its potency. She grew up in the 80s, with voluminous curls teased and sprayed into place. Her attitude and annoyance still resonate with the time frame. So does her metallic lip gloss and the blue eyeshadow melting off her face from a horrid day at work.
“You’re still here?” She scrunches her lips inhaling a drag of her cigarette and blowing out a puff of smoke. Her threatening eyes tell me she’ll find a belt in less than two seconds, and beat the demons out of me if she needs to. “Payt... you’re eighteen.”
“I know.” I stare at the bright computer screen, thinking the little fan humming will dull out the inevitable.
“You can’t stay here forever. Most kids your age wouldn’t be coming back to Mum’s.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just a lot going on.”
“Well, Rey and I were talking. Dodie is selling her beetle, and we think maybe getting a car would encourage you to leave the house.”
“The old cat ladies car?”
“Yes, she legally can’t drive anymore – she’s going blind. We’ll have the title ready for you tomorrow. Now excuse me, I’ve had an atrocious day.” Mum disappears to the patio in one of the old white lawn chairs, drinking her wine and inhaling her cigarettes. She flicks the ash off and keeps blackening her lungs. Rey follows and sits next to her.
My phone flashes on the table, and when I slide it over. It’s my long lost cousin's name flashing on the screen.. I swipe right, seeing the three little dots on the bottom of the screen showing me she’s typing.
Phoebe: Hey girl!
Phoebe: How’s it going?
Payton: I dunno... I left college and I’m back in my bat cave.
Phoebe: You’ll be whiter than a ghost if you keep hiding in there.
Payton: Yeah...
Phoebe: What’s going on? Why are you back in that damn trailer, it smells.
Payton: I fucked up.
Phoebe: How?
Payton: I dunno...
Phoebe: You’re kidding me. You’re not going to tell me?
Payton: It’s a long story, and I don’t feel like typing it all out.
