Bryan Smith - The Killing Kind

On the other hand…

She stared at the empty vodka bottle again for several long moments before shifting her focus to the array of brown and green beer bottles scattered all about. Someone had made a booze run during the night, but she had no idea who had done it. And if she couldn’t remember that, what else might she be forgetting?

Oh fuck…

She started panicking. Maybe Chuck had come by during the night after all. He hadn’t been happy with her last night, but he wouldn’t just ignore her absence, not for this long. He would have worried. He would have come looking for her. She thought of him coming into the room and seeing her bouncing up and down on his best friend’s dick. She cursed her stupidity. Yes, she’d been upset last night. Had been upset and anxious for a while. But that didn’t excuse what had happened. Bottom line, this whole escapade was a colossal lapse in judgment. She had no business letting something like this happen-not, at least, until she was well and truly done with Chuck.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up slowly, groaning as the ache in her head flared brighter. She whimpered and scanned the floor for her clothes. The pain was bad, but the need to get dressed and out was more intense. It wasn’t just the need to see Chuck and know the full extent of the damage done. That reluctance to face Emily after the things they’d done together was growing by the moment, verging on becoming something much more intense. Fuck. She might have to spend the remainder of the vacation avoiding all contact with her best friend. And that sucked, but she didn’t see how she had a choice. Or…did she?

Nobody forced you to do any of those things.

This was undeniably true. She had come to this room of her own free will.

Guess what else? You fucking loved every second of it.

Also true. Acknowledging this only intensified her conflicted emotions. There were implications in last night’s mad romp she wouldn’t be ready to deal with for a long time.

So, yeah, she needed to be gone from this fucking den of iniquity, but where were her fucking clothes? She got to her feet and shakily wandered about the room. Her shorts and halter were in a pile of discarded clothes on the other side of the bed, mixed in with Emily’s clingy black dress and Joe’s jeans and underwear. She stooped to retrieve her things from the pile and let out a startled yelp as a fist thudded against the other side of the closed door. A voice called out her name. Female. Annalisa? The knock came again, louder, much more insistent. The voice became shrill as it called out her name again and then Emily’s name.

Zoe groaned and managed to croak out a husky reply. “Hold on!”

She hopped into the shorts, the effort causing her to fall against the wall behind her. The insistent knock came yet again. Louder. Faster. Harder. Just like the relentless beat of the club music spewing from Emily’s iPod. Zoe wanted to scream. It was all too much. She finished dressing, stabbed the iPod’s pause button, and wobbled over to the door.

Emily stirred behind her. “Mmm…” She yawned sleepily. “What’s going on?”

“Dunno.”

Zoe opened the door and blinked against bright sunlight. She held a hand to her brow and squinted at Annalisa’s livid expression. “Hey. What’s up?”

Annalisa pushed past her into the room. Her friend looked like she was about to blow a gasket. She was shaking. Zoe was pretty sure she’d never seen her quite this angry. Watching her survey the room did nothing to still Zoe’s fears. It was too easy to see it all through Annalisa’s eyes. The naked bodies. The empty booze bottles. The tray on the table with still-lingering traces of white powder smudged across its surface. All that and the odor of sex still heavy in the air.

Annalisa turned to look at her. “So you’ve been here all night?”

Zoe grimaced at her tone and said, “Yeah.”

“Having a little party, right?”

Zoe shrugged. “I guess.”

Emily sat up in bed and stretched her arms high over her head as she yawned again. She was still nude and made no effort to cover herself. “Look, what’s the big fucking deal? Seriously. Zoe’s a grown-up. She can do what she wants. Who the fuck are you to judge?”

Emboldened by Emily’s sharp tongue, Zoe felt a bit of her own defensiveness fade. Some of the shame seemed to vanish as well. “Yeah. So I had some fucking fun last night. So what? Nobody got hurt.”

Annalisa did not look chastened by this reproach. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Zoe. Somebody did get hurt.”

Zoe frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You need to see Chuck.” She clapped a hand around one of Zoe’s wrists and began to drag her toward the door. “You need to see what happened last night while you were off playing with these creeps.”

Emily raised a middle finger. “Fuck you too, bitch. I’ve never fucking liked you. Stupid whore.”

Annalisa paused with her hand on the door and turned to face Emily. “I’m glad you said that, Emily. I always thought you were only pretending to like me for Zoe’s sake. Now I know.” She glanced at Zoe. “We all know.”

Zoe’s head was throbbing again. “Can we please just stop this?”

Emily sneered at Annalisa. “Boring cunt.”

Zoe was pulled out into the bright sunlight. The door to her own room was standing open. She made Annalisa halt just outside the door, laying a hand on the other girl’s shoulder and turning her toward her. “Look, I’m sorry Emily was so mean. She didn’t mean any of that. I’ll…talk to her about it.”

Annalisa’s expression softened some. “I appreciate the thought, but there’s no need to play peacemaker, Zoe. Honestly, it’s a relief. I’m so tired of the game. She’s a user. The only sad thing is how totally fooled she has you.”

“You’re not being fair.”

Annalisa shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But let’s leave it for another time.” She nodded at the open door. “This needs dealing with now.”

Zoe frowned, feeling anxious again. “Is it…really that bad?”

Annalisa didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to-the grim look on her face said it all. Zoe’s anxiety increased as she followed her inside. The bathroom door stood open at the far end of the room. She heard water running. And an intermittent splashing sound. She brushed past Annalisa, stopped at the door, and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Chuck was in there, attired only in his jeans. He was leaning over the sink and splashing cold water on his face. He looked at her and tried to smile, an effort rendered grotesque by his swollen lips. His face was bruised and abraded in several places. There was more swelling around both eyes. His bare torso bore similar signs of abuse. Someone had kicked the living shit out of him.

Zoe’s eyes watered. “God. Chuck…what happened?”

He shrugged and stood up straight, gingerly patting his face dry with a white washcloth. “Got jumped outside a bar across the street at three in the morning. Couple guys in ski masks. It looks worse than it is.”

Zoe wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of a hand. She stepped into the bathroom and cautiously touched one of the welts on his face, eliciting a small wince. “Jesus, Chuck. You poor thing. I’m sorry.”

More tears came then, followed by a sob, then still more sobs. She was shaking. Chuck pulled her into his arms, allowing her to press her damp face against his warm neck. He stroked her hair and patted her back, whispered words of reassurance. She’d already felt pretty damn guilty, but hearing and feeling his sincerity only made it worse. She thought of what she must have been doing while Chuck was being assaulted and felt like pure shit. He’d only gone to that bar because of his frustrations with her. This was all her fault. The sobs intensified and pretty soon she was wailing like a baby. Chuck just held her and rocked her very gently, cooing in her ear until she began to calm down.