CHAPTER 14
"Morrison!" My surname being yelled out several times and the door being nearly banged out of the hinges didn’t quite fit in the ‘my favorite mornings’ list. I turned on my side, taking one of the decorative fluffy pillows from beside me and put it over my head. The banging did not stop.
"Leave me alone…" I whined and pulled the blanket over my head, hoping it would do the trick. It was hot, but I was willing to sacrifice even my body fluids to get back in the wonderful dream I had. I didn’t want to face the reality where I had been stabbed and I would feel miserable as soon as I would be completely awoken. After my little escape from the hospital, I had returned there at the same day, thank god they didn’t hold me there. Trent had been with me the whole time and I was trying to figure out- why? I was pleasantly surprised when I noticed I had gotten richer by twenty grand.
When I received the balance sheet, I was expecting to see around two thousand dollars, instead I saw twenty two thousand. I had been very skeptical of Trent keeping his word, but now he had gained five percent of my trust, no, rather than three. I was not generous. Anyway, not in this decade. That’s that. Now when I had received my money, I was not obligated to kill the man, but after all he had killed Anastasia. Yes, I was making excuses just to kill someone. It was even more surprising that the bar where Ana had been killed had not been closed and the killing hadn’t been reported anywhere. Odd, right?
These past days when I was pinned to the bed or to the couch (if I got lucky) I had loads of time to think, mostly because Trent had ordered Duke to keep an eye on me. The right person I must say. Anyhow, I was behaving like CSI in one person, I dug through every possible site just to find some information about Ana’s death and nothing. I asked Duke if he had gone to the police department, but he just waved me off. I know I wasn’t that insane, seeing dead people? Dead people were my daily basis, in order to go insane, wasn’t I supposed to see… living people? Was that right? That didn’t sound right. I didn’t want hallucinations, not of dead people by all means. Maybe I had dreamt everything and the dream was just too vivid? No. I had tried calling her, and she was not answering, so it was real, but why was everyone hiding the information? Oh, who was I kidding, I was not going to go knee deep in the enormous puddle of mud if I wasn’t going to receive an enormous honorarium, although, the ignorance was killing me.
"Are you deaf?" The deep voice felt suddenly close. Duke’s deep voice. I was dreaming. Yes. No. He took me by ankle and pulled down the bed until my knees touched my soft carpet, but the rest of my body remained on the bed and under the covers.
"Can you by any chance stop by later…" I murmured, pushing the hair out of my face. Duke was in my room and I had nothing against it. Surprising. He had been marching in and out since Trent threatened him and he saw my wound. It was good no weapons were put out on display, otherwise it would end really sad… for him. I was not going to share my secret with anyone. Let alone Duke. Not just yet. Yes, I was planning on it, just out of curiosity, but Trent had forbid me. People were starting to push me around and I wondered when was I going to snap and go killing the innocents, cause I was extremely close to the danger line.
"You see, Morrison, other people actually have a life. I don’t have all day to babysit you around." Okay, that hurt. I had a life. My life was just none of his business. He pushed up the black t-shirt I had been sleeping in. A soft touch was felt on my wound and I knew he was laying on the stinky ointment with the q-tip. It smelt like old peppermint tea mixed with other quite ‘redolent’ herbs. At the first days it was seemed marching through hell would’ve been a more appealing option. My wound felt like it was constantly being stabbed with a rusty pitch fork, he didn’t know how to be gentle or was it because he hated me so much? Either way, I screamed, I twitched and I nearly let a tear drop, just because he didn’t know how to lay medicine on a wound with a goddamn q-tip, but I guess he started to feel sort of sorry for me, he became nicer. I would’ve done it myself, but it was kind of hard to reach my back, everything was a-okay with my front side, but when it came to my spine, I needed assistance.
"Should I cover you up?" He was holding the bandage in his hand.
Bandage? How many days had passed since his girlfriend stabbed me? Six? I wondered in which hell hole had she fallen in, ‘cause I hadn’t seen her recently, neither had Duke. He had this refreshing routine as he called it- for the past week, he had a different girl every night and every morning he came to me and helped me with the basic things while the girl was still waiting for him in bed. He made sure my wound was healing nicely, helped me with my hair ‘cause I could basically throw my left arm through the window. See… I couldn’t raise it to do my hair in a ponytail nor could I extend it to reach for something. These actions required stretching and I realized the skunk had stabbed me good. I decided against ruining Brian’s little paradise and when it came to the question of ‘what happened?’ The answer was simple – vodka. It had swept me off my feet when I decided to make a sandwich. Seemed like could happen to anyone, right? Not. Don’t ask how or why, but he believed that I actually ran into the knife. How could anyone possibly … I guess it sounded more believable than saying ‘your girlfriend had a mental breakdown’ and I happened to be on her list.
I threw away the duvet and got up, "No… I don’t think so…" I looked up at him and he nodded. What was the time? He looked too dressy for morning. Usually he was the one to walk around in sweats. My head turned to see the electronic clock blinking a good 10:16. Too early for a cloud of hairspray if you ask me.
"Can you manage the front yourself?" He placed the tube on the 19th century walnut commode, right next to a bunch of photo frames. I laid back with a loud yawn as my heavy eyelids closed.
"We can skip the front…" I murmured as I slowly fell back into the deep sleep. My eyes popped open when I felt him pull me up with a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He placed my arm around his neck, letting me feel his spiky hair as he picked me up bridal style. Why did he even put up with me? His tattooed arms felt almost too warm against my bare thighs. He smelt good and he felt good. He smelt like bad decisions and I was hands down for any bad decision life threw my way.
Duke put me on the couch. Was those muffled noises of the tv? Meh. Probably. He did this every morning. I was supposed to take my medicine at half past ten, but I couldn’t take it if I hadn’t eaten anything. "Coffee…" I mouthed as I turned on my side, with my back against the big screen.
"You don’t drink coffee…" His voice felt indifferent, tired. I didn’t want for him to be indifferent. Anything, be mad, break the dishes, just don’t be numb. That’s the worst a person could get.
"You smell like coffee…" I said, feeling a soft blanket land on my body.
"It’s so cute. Finally I see a brother and a sister who aren’t fighting…" My eyes popped open. Just then I realized I was pressing my face against the couch. Hard. I raised my head, trying to make out the image of the girl who was leaning against the counter with my favorite mug in her hand. The blonde leaned in and kissed Brian. Was he smirking? I sat up, trying to swallow everything. Brother and sister. Was that how people saw us? Somehow that didn’t feel right. The phrase, how it rolled down her tongue… It didn’t fucking feel right.
I took the opportunity of their moment, finally being fully awake and walked back into my room. Not thinking twice about it, I took some black shorts from the ‘I’ll-fold-it-later-‘ pile and a black tank top. My eyes slid over the mirror. The reflection wasn’t what I wanted to see. Bags under my eyes, swollen eyes and my hair… It seemed like something had died in it. If I told you my next movement didn’t feel like Megan Fox winning an Oscar or more precisely like hell on earth – I’d be lying. I had managed to make a messy bun even through all the pain and right now it was starting to feel like more of an irritation and less of a pain.
Let’s thank all pagan gods for that, right?
I left my room and saw them now cuddling up to each other on the couch. Something big was forming inside of me, something I had never felt before and I wanted it gone. Now. Give me a scalpel and I’ll cut myself open… yet again… just to find that monstrosity that was building up inside of me. There had to be something wrong. I was deadly ill, wasn’t I?
I picked up my phone from the kitchen island and quickly dialed a number. The number. The only number I could remember.
"Hey!" I heard Duke yell from behind.
"Is she supposed to be out of bed?" I heard the blondie ask.
"No. That’s the fucking point."
"Oh, relax, she’s a big girl…"
"Where are you fucking going?" I didn’t answer him – the phone was already being pressed against my ear, "Hey, Morrison!"
"Babe, let her go…" The feminine voice was too sweet. Made me almost throw up in my mouth a little. I wanted to rip her throat out, but I only smiled on the thought. This was the only time when I had to bear with her and vice versa. We all knew Duke won’t be keeping her around, ‘cause frankly, I don’t believe he even remembered her name.
"Morrison!" He kept yelling my last name. The more you yell, the more ignoring I will do. My hand lied on the door knob. My favorite person he picked up only when I was forced to shut the door in Duke’s face.
"I need a job. Now."