Disturbed (Disturbed #1) (15 page)

             
Clarissa doesn't hesitate spilling what she found when we get going down the road. "You need to stay away from him, Liv. Both his bottom drawers opened up." She whips the car to the side of the street. It sends dust flying behind us as she roars to a stop. Her body twists in the seat to face me and tears instantly start spilling down her cheek.

             
"The first one wasn't bad but it’s sketchy. Money. Tons of money. Thousands, if not more." She slows her breathing down. I don't even want to know what is in the second drawer if she is truly that petrified. "The second one," she continues. "There were three guns." She pauses before saying what really terrifies me. "And a picture of me... and your sister... and hundreds of other girls."

             
"What? What does that mean? Are you sure?"

             
She starts to cry a little harder as she nods her head yes. "I couldn't make it up if I wanted to. Liv, some of these girls... they... they had bloody faces. Bruises. Were skin and bones. They looked sick. Some of them, like the one of me..."

             
Clarissa starts to hyperventilate. I can't understand what could be so bad about the picture of her. It’s obvious she wasn't battered or bruised like the others. I want to know what she saw in the picture of her.

             
And my sister! I haven't even seen or talked to my sister in God knows how long.

             
"Clarissa." I reach over and grab her hands in mine. "Shh, its okay. Breathe." I try my best to calm her but it doesn't seem to help.

             
She speaks through her tears. The words come out shaky but I understand what she says loud and clear. "It was last week, Liv. I was... I was naked and in my shower. He got a picture of me somehow."

             
The door to her car opens up and she starts throwing up on the ground. Her body heaves murderously. I rub her back, holding back tears of my own. I'm still trying to process how that could happen. It doesn't make sense. Not just how he got them, but why. What does he want with this pictures and what is he going to do with them?

             
I grab napkins out of the glove box and hand them to Clarissa once she is done. She closes the door and rests her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. "Your sister was at the graveyard."

             
"Graveyard? My mom's grave?"

             
She shakes her head no. "Talyn's."

             
My body goes cold. How could he know about Talyn? I never told him anything about that. It can't be coincidence he knows about her.

             
"What have I gotten us all into?" I whisper, more to myself than Clarissa.

             
She answers softly anyways. "I wish I had the faintest clue."

I hate saying
goodbye to Clarissa already but we both have classes tomorrow, and even though everything is fucked up right now, we can't ignore our responsibilities. "Make sure you call me," she tells me.

             
"Absolutely. Drive safe and I love you."

             
She smiles warmly at me. "I love you, too, Liv. Always."

             
I give her the biggest hug of all time. I don't want to let go. She leaves and I sit on my dorm bed with a stack of books. I need to attempt in doing some homework but my thoughts keep going back to the photographs. I wish I knew what to make of them.

             
Drugs, guns, pictures of girls, stacks of money. I'm not sure I can go to the cops with just that information. Yes, the drugs will most likely get him some time in jail, but there is obviously more to the story. If I don't find it out what that is, he could just get a slap on the wrist and come after me.

             
When my parents warned me becoming an adult isn't all its cracked up to be, I wasn't expecting things like this. Is this my future? Do I even have a future? I'm not even sure anymore.

             
The room closes in on me. I'm suffocating.

             
I push the books to the floor before grabbing the blanket and wrapping myself up inside. I need its comfort right now. I close my eyes and urge my mind to shut off all the information I've accumulated this week. I'm ready to hit the rewind button. Life needs to simple again.

             
My mom runs through a field in front of me. I sit against a large oak tree with a smile on my face as I watched the sun wash down on my mother. A halo of tropical colors glistening around her brings out this serenity in me that I'll never be able to explain.

             
Bliss. It is pure bliss.

             
I watch her dress whip around in the wind as she dances all around. Her arms spread wide, feeling the freedom that surrounds her.

             
This is her heaven. Our heaven. I may not have ever gotten to know much of my mom in real life, but in my dreams, she can be my best friend. It's been a long time since I've dreamt of her though.

             
She catches me out of the corner of her eye. Her beautiful dance stops as her feet move in my direction. "Olive, what are you doing, my sweet little mami?"

             
Mom is the only person who has ever called me Olive. She wanted to name me Olive but my dad refused to let her, saying I wasn't being named after a Popeye character. She agreed to Liv instead, then when dad wasn't around, she'd cuddle me in her arms and call me her precious Olive.

             
"I'm scared momma," I tell her.

             
"I know."

             
"What do I do?" A tear falls from my eye.

             
Mom swipes it away with her thumb. "You protect yourself. You protect the ones you love. And you fight, Olive. Fight as hard as you can."

             
"I wish you were here."

             
"I've been here all along." She kisses my forehead.

             
The door closes to my dorm, waking me from my surreal dream. "Your phone's been going off," Tricia announces in her annoyed tone.

             
I reach over to grab my phone and see that not only have I slept literally all day, but that I have over two dozen missed calls. One from Roman, two from Clarissa, and the rest from Blaise. I'm shocked he hasn't shown up to my dorm yet.

             
I ignore his calls and the three voicemails he has left. Instead I call Clarissa. She mostly wants to find out why I didn't answer the phone and if I'm doing alright. Alright... yeah, I guess you could call it that.

             
Hesitating for a moment once I'm off the phone with Clarissa, I dial back Roman's number. He answers on the first ring. "Roman."

             
I hate the arrogant way he answers the phone. I think it’s obvious it’s Roman answering if it’s Roman I'm calling. "You called," I state.

             
"I did."

             
"And?"

             
He chuckles over the line. "What time are your classes done tomorrow?"

             
"It’s a Monday. Three."

             
Roman sighs over the line. "Are you able to stay late then?"

             
"Why?"

             
I'm not making it easy on him but mostly because I'm extremely frustrated right now and something about Roman brings out even more emotions. I've never been able to pinpoint exactly why. I guess it’s a little of everything.

             
"I have to run inventory tomorrow. It wasn't supposed to be until next week. I need the extra hands if you're able."

             
"Yeah, that’s fine," I mutter. I stare at the text books on the floor and realize that I haven't even done my work for tomorrow, and with the way my brain is working, I probably won't finish it. "Actually," I speak up. "I'm missing school tomorrow. I can come in early."

             
"Don't miss school, Liv. It’s important."

             
I interrupt. "No, really, I'm not going anyways tomorrow. I may as well come into work when you need me."

             
I swear I can hear a smile in his voice. "Eight sharp. See you then."

             
He hangs up his phone before I have a chance to say goodbye to him.

             
A text chimes through on my phone while it’s still in my hands. It’s from Blaise:
Where are you?

             
I turn my phone to silent. I don't want to talk to him. I want nothing to do with him. I'll just talk with Roman tomorrow about it. He must know something. Maybe he can give me some insight, or even some advice on what to do with the information I found.

             
"I'm going to shower," I let Tricia know.

             
She looks up at me to give me acknowledgement then goes straight back to her studies.

             
I grab everything I need for the shower and head down the hallway to the washrooms.

             
The best part of showering at night is that I can actually shower with hot water. I let it pour over me, enveloping me in its warmth. The beads from the shower head rain down on me, relaxing me just how I was hoping it would. Once I have my hair and body cleaned, I grab the razor to shave my legs.

             
The water starts to cool off before I finish the first leg. I rush through to finish it but the water turns to ice cold. It isn't the first time I've had to finish shaving my legs in the sink. I turn the water off, pack everything up into my shower basket, and wrap a towel around my body.

             
Sliding my feet into my sandals, I walk over to the sink and prop the basket on the table next to the sink. I run the water until it’s at the right temp, then I lift my leg to shave it.

             
The lights turn off on me. "Hello, I'm in here," I yell out.

             
No one answers.

             
"Hello?"

             
I drop my leg from the sink and walk around the corner to where the light switch is. No one is in here so that is weird. Probably someone walked past and pulled a prank. I roll my eyes at the annoying pranks people do in this school. I turn the light back on and walk back to the sink.

             
It turns off again.

             
I swallow hard. "This isn't funny. Turn the light on."

             
Nothing happens.

             
I walk back over to the light switch.

             
A hand reaches from around my back, covering my mouth. I scream against it but all that comes out is a muffled cry. I'm pulled against a rigid body, obviously male. The hand grips harder around my mouth, making sure no noise will come out of it. I can feel my teeth slicing into my lips. The taste of metal coats my tongue.

             
I close my eyes to keep the tears from pouring down.

             
The other hand rips the towel from me. My hand reaches for the door handle, my only escape, but as I pull on it, I find that it’s locked. I'm stuck inside here with this... villain.

             
He pushes me against the door and hisses in my ear, "Don't fight this."

             
I recognize that voice. My body instantly goes cold.

             
I knew he was cruel, but I didn't think he was this... horrible. I can't even think of the correct word to describe him.

             
Blaise reaches down between my legs. I tighten them, making it harder for him to access a spot that is no longer reserved for just him. He shoves his knee between my legs, forcing them to spread apart some. Everything inside me attempts to fight him off but he is too strong for me.

             
Two fingers push up inside me. "Mmm," he moans against my ear. "My delicious Liv."

             
I try screaming again, knowing no one will hear me, but I can't help it.

             
He doesn't stop. The more I attempt to fight him, the more aggressive he becomes. His lips touch at the skin of my neck. His grip is too hard on me, I can't even shake my head back and forth.

             
"This is mine, Liv. No one else’s but mine." His whispers aren't seductive like they once were, they're horrifying now.

             
His fingers continue to assault me. I can't stop him.

             
I close my eyes harder and wish for a miracle. Anything. I need somebody to come here, to stop him, to get him to stop touching me.

             
"You're so wet," he whispers against my ear.

             
The fucking pervert things that I'm actually turned on by this.

             
Tears continue to roll down my cheeks. My elbow goes back to get his ribs.

             
My body is pulled back and forced forward again, slamming my head against the metal of the door. "Liv," he hisses. "Don't fight this." I do it again anyways, slamming my elbow back into his ribs once more, this time harder.

             
"You fucking bitch." Blaise pulls me back with him and throws me down on the ground.

             
I scream out in horror. "Help! Someone, help me! Please!"

             
Before I'm able to call for more help, Blaise is turning me to face him. He shoves something into my mouth to stop me from screaming. I reach for it but when I do, his hands grab my wrists and put them over my head. I twist and turn to get out of his hold to no avail.

             
His body pushes between my legs, keeping them spread. I keep attempting to twist around, knowing my adrenaline should be giving me more strength. It’s still not enough.

             
One of his hands hold both of my wrists as his other goes down and frees himself. I use my tongue to get the rag out of my mouth but it tastes like gasoline. Blaise pushes himself inside of me. I try to scream through the rag but my world turns blurry.

             
I attempt to fight off the lightheaded feeling but I can't. Black and gray invade my eyesight. I can still feel Blaise assaulting me but I can't do anything about it now. The last thing I remember before the black takes me under is Blaise repeating how much he supposedly loves me.