Page 4

4

AINSLEY

S on of a bitch, what the fuck happened last night?

Laying in a super itchy bed, I spread my hands out wide, noticing how big the bed is but refusing to open my eyes. I know if I do—I will vomit. The world is spinning around me as if I’m on a damn rollercoaster. I continue to rub my hands over the itchy fabric using the grounding technique my counselor taught me as I try to work through my memories to figure out why in the ever-loving hell my head hurts so damn badly.

The pounding reaches its peak when the memories slam into me.

The memory of following Gloria into the bar.

The moment we fought about the drinks.

The heat at my back before slamming into the ground just as the sound of gunshots ring out.

Recalling the smells from that room makes my stomach churn—burned skin, gunpowder, smoke, and body odor. I fight the rising vomit until I just can’t. Rolling to the edge of the bed, I lose anything I had in my stomach.

“I’m starting to wonder if it’s you making her vomit and not the head wound,” a kind but rough voice chuckles.

“Shut the fuck up and quit being a dick,” says a voice that makes my blood run cold.

Memories flood me like a dagger to the soul.

I step off the bus and look at the campus in front of me.

Savannah State University stretches in both directions. The lawns are green and manicured, and the old oaks covered in moss bring tears to my eyes. The thought of my mother and father laughing faces flash in my mind's eye. This is where they met and fell in love. We would visit occasionally for them to relive their glory days. Until the night my father passed, leaving my momma broken and looking for something that I just couldn’t understand or help her find.

I take in a big lung full of air, “I finally made it, Momma. Just like we’ve always planned.”

The words leave my mouth and a feeling of calm washes over me. Looking around, trying to figure out where I need to go, I find a large white tent to my left. Just as I start toward the tent, a loud rumble catches my attention. Looking to the right over my shoulder, I find three men sitting on large motorcycles. The man in the front is turned, talking to the others, gives off the aura of darkness and mayhem.

I can’t help but stare at him, taking in every inch of his body that I can see. Suddenly, his head snaps around as if he can feel my eyes on him. The look in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen. A shiver runs through my body with a sense of trepidation and something I’ve never felt before.

“You’re danger and mayhem all in one,” I mumble under my breath.

An eyebrow arches as if he’s asking me a question just as his eyes trace down my body, leaving gooseflesh in its tracks. The feelings coursing through my body scare me to the point I spin around, moving quickly in the opposite direction. I make it to the white tent to get my schedule and dorm room assignment, trying with everything I have not to turn around and look at the man on the motorcycle.

Picking my way through the halls of families and students excited for what the future holds. Finding my room with the door closed, I try to do the polite thing and knock before barging in. The door flies open and standing on the other side is what I can only describe as pure joy and sunshine.

“OMG are you Ainsley?” The young woman smiles so wide I swear her face is going to split open.

I can’t help but to smile back at her, “I am. You must be my roommate. Or at least I hope you are, since you're in the room that’s supposed to be mine.”

“You’re so pretty. Yes, I’m Jenny. It’s so, so good to meet you,” Jenny says, holding her hands together under her chin.

I stand there just taking her in. She has long dark hair with large bright blue eyes. They reflect nothing but happiness and joy. My first instinct is this is going to be a long semester with all her joy and brightness. I look past her to see that, like I asked, we’re in a dorm room that has a living space with two separate room spaces and our own bathroom. We stand there just looking at each other for longer than necessary before I decide to say something.

“Are you going to let me in or what?” I ask her, trying not to sound as annoyed as I feel at this moment.

I watch as red crawls up her checks and a look of pure embarrassment crosses her eyes. “Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry. Please come in. I’m just so excited. This is the first time I’ve not had a babysitter since I was born.”

I stop in my tracks, turning to look at her. “Aren’t you like eighteen or something?”

Mortification wraps around her like a cloak. “It’s a long, long story. Let’s just say that I’ve never been left alone. Maybe one day I’ll tell you all about it.”

I instantly feel like a complete asshole. This woman has done nothing to me and I’m being a rude bitch.

“I’m sorry. That was rude.” I start feeling embarrassed myself. “I’m not very good with people!”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to go and let you get settled. Maybe we can catch up later,” Jenny says, looking slightly sad.

Reaching out, I place my hand on her arm. “I swear it’s me. I’ve been traveling all day and I’m just being a bitch. I promise I’m not usually so difficult.”

She places her small hand over mine. “No worries at all.”

She's cut off by the ringing of her phone. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulls out what looks to be the newest iPhone. She looks at it and rolls her eyes before placing it to her ear.

“You haven’t been gone ten minutes. I haven’t left my room.” She looks over at me, making a face.

She stops and listens to whoever I can hear barking at her on the phone. I turn to leave when her next set of words make me pause.

“Yes, my roommate is here,” she pauses. “Absolutely not,” she snaps. “You are not talking to her. I will not bend on this. No, I … please don’t do this.”

“Yes, I want to stay here.” Jenny’s head drops back on her shoulders, looking at the ceiling. “Yes, I promised. Fine, I’ll tell her—but if she says no, I don’t control her, and this isn’t your world.”

Whatever the man on the other end says makes Jenny sigh in what can only be described as pure disappointment. I take a couple of steps back from her, not liking where this is going.

The apologetic look on her face is beyond concerning. She pulls the phone from her ear, hitting something on the screen.

“I know we don’t know each other, but my brother wants to talk to you.” Her pleading eyes shake my resolve.

“I can’t. I don’t know you and I don’t know him.” I shake my head back-and-forth. “Why in the hell would he want to talk to me?” I snap, my weariness making me short.

“If you don’t talk to him, he’ll just show up and corner you. This is going to be better for the both of us,” she tells me, looking nervous.

I don’t know why I do it or what comes over my body, but I reach out and take the phone. I click the unmute button and place it to my ear. Before I can say hello a voice dripping in danger, frustration, and anger assaults me.

“I swear to fucking God, Jenny, if you don’t do what I’ve fucking said the last thing you’ll be doing is going to that fucking school,” The man sounds as if he smokes a pack a day and drinks a bottle of whiskey at breakfast.

“I don’t think that’s how you should be speaking to someone,” is what falls out of my mouth.

The tirade stops at the sound of my voice. I hear the man inhale deeply.

“It’s a good motherfucking thing that your opinion doesn’t matter. That’s my fucking baby sister and I’ll talk to her however I damn well please,” he finally snaps defensively.

“I’m not her and I don’t have to fucking listen to it. So why don’t you tell me what this call is all about?” I sigh and rub my forehead, truly over this conversation and ready for a damn nap.

The chuckle he releases isn’t one of humor—more like a warning. “Straight to the fucking point. You are now responsible for her fucking protection. If a motherfucking thing happens to her on your watch, I’ll be coming for you.”

His words sendoff warning bells and the world starts to go black.

I am pulled back from the memories when my stomach rolls so hard I don’t even have time to stop it. I roll so my head is hanging over the side of the bed, once again letting whatever is fitting to escape out onto the floor. A low rumbling growl vibrates through my aching head, making my stomach roll once again. When nothing comes up with the dry heaving, I finally lay back on the bed.

“Fucking hell, that makes what? Round three of her puking on your boots? I think you might need to find a different pair,” another voice chuckles.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole. What the fuck is wrong with her? Is she going to fucking make it?” Fear shoots through my body as that voice wraps around and tries to strangle me.

The reminder that I failed that voice just like I have everyone else in my life. I whimper as fear sets its claws in, dragging me into nothingness.