Fierce (13 page)

“Goddammit!” he screams, and he smashes his
hands into the wall a couple more times. “It’s so hard without him. I just
can’t …”

When he finally calms down, his body rests
against the wall, and he sinks down to the floor after a while.

My heart is beating fast, but I can’t just
keep watching him from a distance, even if I’m scared.

He needs someone. I want to be there for
him.

I crawl up from the edge of the bed and
walk over to him. I put my hand on his shoulder and sink down to the floor,
too.

“He’s the only one I have. The only one.
There’s no one else. And now he’s gone, too.”

I shush him and pat him on the back, trying
to get him to stop fuming.

Suddenly, he turns around and pulls me
toward him. My eyes widen as he buries his face in the nape of my neck,
sniffing.

My thighs squeeze together in anticipation,
because I can’t handle him touching me. It heats me up so much, I feel it in my
core. And I feel terrible that I’m feeling this way right now.

“The day I got the phone call I was so mad
I smashed it to pieces,” he mutters.

So that’s what was going on the day he
kicked the wall … Now I get it.

I’m overwhelmed with the feeling that I
need to care for him. “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m here for you if you need me.”

I didn’t know it was this bad. If I had, I
would never have asked about it. I don’t want him to be reminded of something
this horrible.

I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your
last family member behind bars. What would I do if I had nobody else?

I’d turn into a nervous wreck and pray to God
someone saved me and my family.

Maybe he’s doing the same. Maybe he’s
fighting his way through his misery, trying to make sense of it all. I don’t
know what the reason behind all of it is. All I know is that he’s put up this
barrier to protect himself, and that he’s breaking right here, right now.

“Look at me,” he says, sighing. “Spilling
all my beans to some girl on campus.” He lifts his head to look at me with his
adorable gray eyes.

“I’m not some girl,” I say, winking. “I’m
the
Leafy.”

He chuckles, and I’m glad his mood has
improved. “Sounds better coming from your mouth.”

He takes a deep breath and stretches, his
muscles straining to the limit, making me gulp. “God, if any one of the guys
finds out about this, I’m dead meat.”

“Why?”

He laughs as we get up from the floor. “The
guys I hang out with aren’t as innocent and sweet as you are, Leafy,” he says
jokily.

“What do you do with them anyway?”

“Nothing good,” he says.

Suddenly the door opens.

Immediately Hunter and I let each other go
and stare at the person standing in the doorway.

“Crap, sorry,” the guy says.

The moment he catches my eye, my heart
stops beating for a second. It’s that guy with the flowerpot hairdo, the guy
who hangs around Hunter a lot. The guy Brody talked with.

So this is the guy who they both know.

“No, it’s no problem, dude,” Hunter says,
clearing his throat.

We both get up and Hunter signals to me.
“That’s my roommate.”

“Jaret Paxon.”

“Autumn Blakewood,” I stammer.

We shake hands, but soon he diverts his
attention back to Hunter.

“Sorry, dude, but I don’t have much time
for small talk. I’ve got another delivery for you to make, and something else.”

A darkness looms over Hunters face, and it
sends a cold shiver down my spine.

“Now?”

“Yes, the boss wants it done today.”

The boss? What the hell?

Hunter sighs as Jaret walks out again.
“Fine. Let’s go.”

“Huh? Where are you guys going? What’s
going on?” I say, terrified of the answer. Is this the part where they beat up
some dude? And what do they mean by ‘delivery’?

When Hunter said he had a roommate, I
didn’t expect him to be part of this.

I don’t like this Jaret guy. Not one bit.

Before I have a chance to make them answer,
they’re already running down the stairs.

Well, Hunter’s wrong if he thinks I’m going
to let him leave me like that. Not with all those questions. Not that quick. No
matter if I know about his brother, it doesn’t mean he can just go around
beating people up for God knows what reason.

So I grab my things and bolt after them.

Out
with the Old, in with the New

I make my way down the stairs, trying not
to produce any sound. Hiding behind a wall, I check if the coast is clear. I
don’t want them to see me. They have to feel secure enough to go about their
business, so I can finally find out what they’re really doing. What Hunter is
really up to all those times he’s with them.

What kind of shit he’s gotten himself into.

Lurking behind a pillar, I watch them walk
into an alley behind the building. I run after them, making sure I don’t get
seen. There’s a guy in the alley, and they’re shaking hands.

“Got the stuff?”

“Yeah.” Hunter fishes in his pockets and
takes out a tiny plastic bag filled with some white powder.

Images of Brody organizing those exact same
plastic bags flash through my mind.

“How much?” the guy says.

“How can you do this?” I scream.

The guys turn around, all looking like
they’ve seen the chief of police. When Hunter notices it’s me, his eyes fire up
with anger.

“What are you doing here?” he yells.

I storm over to them, and the guy who they
were talking to runs past me, scared he’ll get in trouble, probably.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I frown
and stare at Hunter towering above me. I’m no longer afraid of him. He can do
with me whatever he wants, I don’t care. He needs to hear this.

“I told you it was none of your business.
Why can’t you just leave it alone?” he growls.

“Of course I won’t leave this alone! You’re
selling drugs! How can you do this? ” I say. “And you, you got him into this!”
I point my finger at Jaret, who starts shaking his head.

“No, I’m in this as deep as he is. I’ve got
no part in him getting into this,” Jaret says.

“I can’t believe this! Goddammit, all this
time you’ve been doing this, haven’t you? What would Jessie say?”

Hunter steps forward, pushing me against
the wall. “Leave my brother out of this. I will do whatever the hell I need to
do to survive.”

“It’s wrong, and you know it.”

“I don’t care,” Hunter says.

I purse my lips together and frown, pushing
back the tears. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

Fuming, I storm off, leaving the guys there
dumbfounded.

♥♥♥

Back in my room, I’ve been reading the same
page for minutes. I can’t seem to even finish one chapter today. The only
reason is Hunter and what I caught him doing.

I still can’t believe he’s selling drugs.

Brody must be involved.

He was making the bags, and now Hunter’s
selling them. They’re all part of the same group. Is it a gang? I have no
goddamn idea, but it freaks me out knowing this is all happening at my college,
and nobody else seems to know about it.

Opening my drawer to take out a different
book, I notice something lying on the bottom. A note with handwriting on it.

I take it out and feel something attached
to the bottom. Fiddling with it, I rip it off. It’s a tiny bag filled with only
one white pill.

Hey Autumn,

I’m sorry for being such a dickhead the
last couple of weeks. We’re both working hard, but I know that’s not an excuse.
You’ve been studying so hard, and I think you could use a little boost.

I hope I can trust you with this.

Cheers, Brody.

With trembling fingers I rip open the
packet and inspect the pill. Shit. Is this really what I think it is? How can
he give this to me and treat it like some kind of peace offering?

The nerve …

And to think he’s even asking me if he can
trust me.
Him
, of all people. The irony.

With furrowed brows I throw the tiny bag
back inside my drawer and slam it shut.

Someone knocks on my door, and from the
heavy thumping sound of it I can clearly hear it’s Hunter. He doesn’t even wait
before inviting himself in.

I don’t want to look at him right now.

He stomps forward with his heavy feet,
coming closer to me. I’m shivering behind my desk, but I don’t want him to see
my nervousness.

With a thwack he throws a book in front of
me, and I jolt up from my chair.

“You left this on my bed,” he says, leaning
sideways as much as he can so he can look at me.

He puts his hand on the table, waiting for
me to answer.

“Thanks,” I say, after his fingers scrunch
up my papers.

And then I notice his knuckles. They’re all
bloodied up, scratch marks all over them.

My eyes widen, and I look up at him. A
black eye marks his face.

“You’re hurt!” I say, and I grab his hand
and check his wounds.

He only growls and just stands there,
saying nothing. His rough fingers lie limp in my hands, as if he’s giving me
complete access to fix him up.

Frowning, I throw one angry look at him,
but he just looks back at me with those piercing gray eyes like there’s nothing
wrong.

“You got in a fight again,” I say as I grab
some tissues.

Wiping his wounds clean, I glance at him,
but he refuses to answer. I’m so mad at him for selling drugs, but at the same
time I can’t let him stay all bloody like this. I have to help him out, even if
my first instinct is to tell him to leave my room.

I don’t want to see him hurt.

“Was this the other thing they asked you to
do?” I say, looking him straight in the eye. He just stares back.

I stand up and grab an ice pack from my
fridge. I also fetch a stool and put it down in front of my chair. “Sit.”

He groans, annoyed, but sits down anyway.
He looks pissed, probably not used to having girls tell him what to do. Well,
if he wants help, he’d better do as I say.

I press the pack against his black eye and
put his hand on top. “So, you want me to fix you up, but you don’t want to tell
me why you’re busted up?”

“It’s not going to change anything,” he
says, keeping a stone-cold face as if none of this is even remotely bothering
him.

“Yeah, well getting into fights isn’t going
to change anything, either. I don’t understand why you always have to do what
they say.”

I open my drawer and take out a package of
bandages, but before I can close it again, Hunter pulls it back open. He puts
his hand inside and fishes out the plastic bag with the pill.

His eyes become viciously big, and he makes
a fist with his bruised knuckles. “Who gave you this?”

“Does it matter?”

He slams his hand on the table, and I
almost spring up from my chair. “It matters if I say it does!”

“And you think that by yelling I will just
go ahead and tell you? Just like you told me why you’re dealing drugs and
fighting people?”

His nostrils flare and his nose twitches.
“Whatever. As long as you do
not
use it.”

Snorting, I say, “Why do you care? You’re
the one who’s handing out drugs to people. It shouldn’t matter to you.”

He grabs my hand as I’m busy with the
bandages. “
You
matter to me.”

Frozen in place, I hesitate. My face heats
up, turning my cheeks pink. I can’t even look at him.

“W-well,” I stammer, “I don’t think you’re
the one to tell me what to do and what not to do.” Seeing the drugs in his hand
and his bruised face makes images of the day in the cafeteria flash through my
mind. He looked so drugged up back then.

Now I know why.

“You take them yourself. That day you
showed up in the cafeteria you looked like you were beaten up quite badly, and
you had red eyes. Don’t deny it. You’ve done it yourself.”

The bag with the pill is crushed in his
hand. “And you think I wanted to do that?” he hisses.

“You tell me,” I mutter.

“I hate it. I hate the fucking stuff so
much, you can’t even begin to imagine. But I had to. There was no other way to
…”

“To what? You had to use drugs to do what?”

“To forget. To feel a little better. And
because they told me to,” he says, sighing.

I knew it. He’s really under their thumb.

I swallow, wrapping the bandage carefully
around the slashes on his knuckles. He doesn’t look as broken as last time, but
it still isn’t a pretty sight. I wonder what he’d do if I wasn’t here. Would he
go to the hospital? Or would he just leave his wounds and let them get
infected?

However, now that I’ve seen the extent of
his problems, I totally get why he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital. If
you’re there, and you’ve been in a fight, the cops are immediately involved.
With his history I don’t blame him for not wanting to have anything to do with
law enforcement. They robbed him of his brother.

“Tell me you won’t use that stuff …
please.” His voice is croaky, and it sounds like he’s begging me. “Not ever,”
he adds.

I snatch the pill from his hand and throw
it in the garbage bin next to my door. He visibly relaxes, seeing it disappear.

“I won’t. But why do you?” I say, and I
fasten the bandage around his hand with a clip.

“Because I have to.”

“Why can’t you just tell me why?” I say.
“Are you afraid I’m going to spill your secrets or something? Don’t you trust
me?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt, all
right?” he bursts out.

I’m dumbfounded by his sudden
explosiveness, but also because I’m flustered. I don’t really know what to say
to it, because it feels so unreal. I don’t even have the guts to look him in
the eye. My heart is pounding in my throat.

His free hand reaches for my face, and I
freeze. My nipples tighten when his fingers touch my skin, and my nerve endings
are on fire. I burn on the inside, wanting more of his touch. His thumb skids
across my cheek, gently caressing my soft skin with the rough pad of his thumb.

My breath hitches in my throat.

I can’t believe it. He’s really touching
me.

It feels so good, I just want to nudge my
head into the palm of his hand and let him touch me everywhere. It sets my
heart on fire.

When he stops, I shudder.

He chuckles a little. “I told you you’re
afraid of me. I knew it.”

I bite my lip, my cheeks burning up,
feeling very exposed. “I’m n-not,” I stutter.

“Yes, you are. You’re terrified of me. Just
a touch from my hand makes you shiver.” The grin on his face is making me feel
both embarrassed and hot and bothered.

“Why are you so afraid? I’m not going to
hurt you,” he says with a cocky voice that makes me want to give him a second
black eye.

“Because I’ve never had a boyfriend before,
okay?” I say, sighing. “At least not past the kissing stage.” There. It’s out
now. I’ve said it. And I feel completely stupid for blurting it out.

For a second Hunter just stares at me with
a blank look on his face. Then he bursts out into laughter.

“Is that it?” he says, in between laughs.

Frowning, I make a fist with my hand. “Yes.
Stop laughing.”

I pound him on the shoulder, and he inches
back with a wince. “Ouch. Damn, your punches have improved.”

Shaking my head, I snort. “You’re an
asshole, you know that? Laughing at girls because they’re not experienced.”

Suddenly Evie walks into the room and stops
in her tracks when she sees Hunter sitting there.

I clear my throat. “Hey,” I say.

“Can we talk?” Evie says, looking fazed.

Hunter looks at her and immediately gets up
from his stool. “I’ll get going.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow for training
then?”

“Sounds cool,” Hunter says, and he smiles.
“Thanks.”

Then he passes Evie, who’s still standing
in the doorway.

I clean up all the mess that’s left on the
desk, while Evie just holds herself, standing there, looking at me. I don’t
really know what to do or what to say. She’s mad at me, that’s for sure. Ever
since I told her I was falling for Hunter she’s been acting strange.

Does she really hate him that much?

“Do you have time?” she says.

“Sure,” I say, and I turn toward her.

She sits down on her bed and stares at me
from a distance with a scared look on her face.

“What’s the matter?” I say, getting up and
sitting down next to her.

“I … I just can’t deal with this. Seeing
you and Hunter together all the time …”