Island Rush (3 page)

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Authors: Marien Dore

BOOK: Island Rush
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He didn’t move but only looked me over. I knew it was with worry, but I couldn’t handle how serious this was getting.  I rolled my eyes. “Mr. Rush, you may want to go to the police with this, but I would watch your own back. I think the cops would be interested in knowing how much you love to stare at your students. Especially me,” I said with a smile. His face and expression returned to that of cold stone and perfection. Neutral with annoyance. 

“Goodbye, Miss Reeves,” he said, irritated.  He let me go and walked back towards his desk.

I pulled out my phone and read the message from my dad as I walked down the hall. Sure enough, there was that nickname. “If you don’t get this raise, you will be hurting later. Good luck baby girl,” it said.

I shuttered. He hit me but only occasionally. I was sure he wouldn’t hesitate though if I didn’t get the raise. We already had the money I was saving up for college and the money he received from selling everything mom had. And with both our jobs, we made up most of the money we needed. It just wasn’t enough yet. This raise wouldn’t help much, but it will do us some good.

That’s what I had to remember as I pulled up to the coffee shop I work at thirty minutes later.  I learned to know it as my safe place.  I got along with the people here, and I didn’t have a father to fear. 

Today, though, I felt anything but safe with the pressure I felt. I took a deep breath. The raise would either go to me or my coworker, Donna. She was so nice and deserved it, but I needed it more. I braced myself for the worst, got out of my car, and went inside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

As I drove home, I wasn’t afraid anymore of being in trouble with my dad. I was so incredibly thrilled!  I mean, I got the raise! How awesome was that?  Donna was really nice about it too and congratulated me along with my boss, Shelly. It wouldn’t be enough, obviously.  It would help though, and it would make me feel much more secure at home now that my dad is getting what he wanted.

When I walked in the front door that night, he was there, sitting on the couch and waiting. I wasn’t nervous or afraid, or at least, not like I usually was around him. After I closed the front door with a click and met his eyes, he waited for me to speak.

“Um, I got the raise,” I said, biting my lip and watching him carefully. With how late it was, it was common sense to assume he has been drinking. Validation came in the form of the number of beer cans that sat on the coffee table. 

However, he seemed fairly focused on me. A smile broke out across his face, and it only made me cringe. I was safe from a beating and his harassment. I could handle his creepiness I suppose. Dad stood up and walked over to me, wrapping an arm around me.  Oddly enough… he gave me a hug.  It was a hug that actually made me want to cry.

It reminded me of how he use to hug me. Lovingly almost. It just made me want to shake my head.  How could he turn from my caring dad to this monster?  The signs were always there, and we had our differences.  I suppose just too many things built up until he broke.  Therefore, it hurt terribly to have him hug me right now.  I had to force my arms down and to not return what felt like a real fatherly hug.  I knew it wasn’t, even when he spoke. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. 

I’m not proud
… That’s all I could think to myself.  Because even though I was happy with the raise and the fact that I felt safe, it was for a terrible cause. After all, this is to bail my brother out.  If I’m honest with myself, my brother could be worse than my dad in some ways. 

My brother was a perverted sicko and always has been screwed up in that way. Like I said, there were signs that this could happen, that this family could fall apart. Some of those signs were from my dad that I remember from an early age.  His drinking, angry physical outbursts, and how he seemed bipolar at times.  However, when it came to my brother… he didn’t exactly show ‘signs.’ That implies that his state of mind wasn’t clearly displayed.  But my brother was always weird. Always laughing at things that didn’t make sense to laugh at.  He had a very unhealthy deep interest in anything relating to sex.  I hated the memories of the way he would sometimes look at me too.  I was just grateful my father wasn’t like him in that way.  That didn’t make dad better.  It was my dad’s idea to kill my mother. 

He looked up and stepped back after a minute.  After such a strange and affectionate hug from him that put me on edge, I was very tense.  He hasn’t hugged me like that in a long time.  I was sure it was because I never contributed so much towards helping him. 

That’s why I was just a little less surprised when he raised his hand in a fast motion, swinging it towards my face. I flinched and looked away, waiting for him to hit me.  Instead, he laughed and caressed my cheek. “Good night, bitch.”

He walked and stumbled up the stairs a moment later. When I heard him shut his bedroom door behind him, I wasn’t sure how long I stood there for.  I knew that even though I got a raise, there was still the fact that I was stuck in a house with an abusive dad. 

I really thought about running away before.  The issue was he was too smart for me to try that.  He lets me leave the house, like a normal kid.  He allows me freedom. If he were worried about me revealing the truth, he would keep me on a very short leash.  He knew that if I run, I will be caught; that’s why he offered me the freedom I want.  I was trapped no matter what and he knows I knew that.

My dad is a smart man despite how it seems. He knew the cops were still searching for more evidence and were probably listening into our calls. So, that’s why we text each other. My father knew the risk when he and my brother killed her. He was prepared and knew how to cover his tracks. That is clearly something my brother failed at and didn’t plan out well enough.

 

 

The day before the trip, Mr. Rush asked me to stay after class. The previous few days, I rushed out of class before he could stop me or ask anything. I knew he longed for more news and information.  He was curious about what else was going on under my roof, and I saw it in his eyes every day since we first talked about it. 

Today, though, he was ready.  He figured out I was trying to avoid him so he made sure to meet me at the door I was trying to quickly leave through. “Miss Reeves, could I see you for a minute?”

I sighed. I couldn’t run out like yesterday, and I couldn’t pretend I didn’t hear him like the day before that.  His stern gaze helped keep me in place too.  It gave me a chance to take in his black button up shirt and khakis. It annoyed me how he looked even more perfect today than usual. 

“Are you doing okay? Did you get the raise?” he asked after the last student left the room.  Standing before me, staring down at me, he raised a thick and fine eyebrow and waited for an answer. 
Jesus, his eyebrows looked perfect too… What was wrong with him?

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. And yes, I got the raise,” I said and pursed my lips over the matter.

“You don’t seem too happy about it.”

I just shrugged. “I am doing fine, sir.  Please just forget about all of it. It would be so much easier.”

We stood there for a minute in awkward silence.  He searched my eyes for a long second, his lips gradually pursing as mine did a moment ago.  He changed the subject as his gaze dropped. “Are you ready for tomorrow’s trip?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it will be fun.  I’m really excited. Why do you care?” I really didn’t want to be mean, but I felt I had to be somewhat rude; I couldn’t get close to him.  I didn’t need him involved.

He just shook his head and scowled. “More mouth. There is still time for detention.  I did not forget your inappropriate behavior when you slapped me.”  I could see that he wouldn’t forget that anytime soon.

I scoffed. “You can’t give me a detention.  The trip is tomorrow.”

“Oh, I could give you a detention,” he said in an intimidating voice until his tone turned softer.  “But I won’t. I don’t want you staying here any more than you have to.”

His words, they were kind.  I couldn’t have that. “So I can say any damn word I fucking want? And you won’t send me to the shit-hole detention center?  Is that right, asshole?” I smirked.

I was shocked — shocked — at what I saw before me.  His expression transformed from blank to one of amusement.  He even smiled at my remark! “Only in front of me before the trip, Janice.”

I frowned. “Well, that gives me like less than a minute.”

He kept that smile up, surprisingly. The strict and occasionally mean teacher suddenly seemed caring and open with me. It was very strange.

After I had told him goodbye with a few cusses thrown in, I left and headed home to pack. I was glad dad was passed out and sleeping by the time I got home.  I wasted no time.  I went upstairs and started packing.  I dug my dark blue suitcase out from the back of the closet and set it on my bed where I unzipped it.

I packed a few cute and elegant outfits as suggested, knowing we had to dress up for certain places and occasions. So that included packing a yellow and white striped sundress; it hugged my bust and flowed gracefully out from there, stopping just above my kneecaps. I also packed a scarlet button-up short-sleeve shirt along with some jean shorts. I threw in a few other skirts and dressy shirts. The rest of my clothes consisted of cotton shorts, tee-shirts, tank tops, and light pajamas. After all, the weather is going to be really hot.

On my carry-on bag, I packed with me a few things that I wanted close by me.  So, it consisted of my book, my digital camera, money, a few pairs of shoes, toiletries, along with a picture of my mom. When I was done, I looked around my room for anything else I needed.

When I was sure I was ready and good for tomorrow morning, I headed downstairs and made myself dinner as quietly as I could. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I woke my father. So, I took my dinner up to my room, and I laid my outfit out for tomorrow: A peach V-neck tee-shirt and black jean shorts. All that was left was to get some rest.

However, when I woke up at dawn the next morning, nothing was solid in my head. I don’t remember ever feeling so excited!  It’s not like this happened every day.  My happiness even increased when I went downstairs and saw my dad was still sleeping as I ate a quick breakfast. 

I didn’t waste much time.  I changed into the clothes I set out last night, slipped on my black sandals, and tucked my phone into my pocket.  Then, I grabbed my bags and left the house as quickly as I could.  About an hour later, the junior class was in the airport.  I felt so much glee flowing through me as the time came closer to boarding the flight.

After I had gone through security, I took my seat among the rows of chairs in the area people waited before boarding.  The juniors were still filing in, along with a specific teacher I noticed.  It was hard to ignore the loud beeping alarm that came from behind me.

When I turned around towards the loud noise, Mr. Rush caught my eyes going through security. He was wearing a white tank top under a blue plaid shirt.  Along with that, he wore tan cargo shorts that cut off at his kneecaps as well as tennis shoes.  At the moment, though, he also wore an annoyed face.  The loud noise that alarmed made him groan as he turned back around towards security where he just came through.

A few men in uniform came over to him, and Mr. Rush nodded at their words. He gave them his black camera bag from around his neck.  They ended up looking through it before pulling out an impressive camera. They looked it over and then nodded, approving it before giving it back to him. Getting the approval to move along, he started heading towards where the rest of us were waiting. 

Some of the students sat in groups, talking excitedly.  Some got coffee and sipped it with droopy eyes and conversed quietly. I felt somewhat jealous seeing my classmates, smiling and laughing.  It was nice to see they were obviously excited for the trip. I was too; it sucked not having someone to talk to, though. 

After my mom had died, I isolated myself from the friends I had, and it honestly didn’t bother me at the time.  It was impossible talking to my friends over my issue because I could not talk about it. I let them slip away from me, and it hurt.  It was better than them figuring out what really happened, that was for sure.  Mr. Rush knowing my problem was a big enough risk, but I wasn’t letting that take me down. I was going to be away from my dad for more than a week.  That was something to be thankful for.

I was sitting alone until I saw from the corner of my eye someone sit in the seat next to mine. When I looked over to him, I quickly looked away. I sighed.

“Are you okay?” he asked me casually. 

I could not believe him. He was always so serious and kept to himself, never showing anything but a dead face. Now, he wouldn’t drop it. I turned more towards him and spoke in a slow voice. “Mr. Rush, I am very fine. I am going on a vacation from my life. So I would not like to be reminded of it.” I paused, thinking something over before continuing. “I have no idea why you care.  You never seemed to care about anything other than your precious hair and your job.  So no offense… but please cut the act and leave me alone.”

I didn’t mean it, even though it was a little true.  I knew sooner or later, I would cave and tell him my whole life story if he stuck around me for too long.  He held such a powerful presence, and it was dangerous for someone who had nobody to talk to like me especially when he already knew bits and pieces. 

He didn’t say anything but instead got up and left, a slight scowl on his face.  It wasn’t long after that when we boarded our plane and took our seats.  I sat on the right side of the plane and got the window seat.  Next to me, a girl I knew, Emma, smiled and sat down.  She put her carry-on bag above our heads in the compartment where I placed mine.

Emma was a really nice and sweet girl. I was lucky to have her sitting next to me for so many hours.  It was much better than others sitting by me who didn’t like me. I guess, I still had friends if you count occasional polite chatter and smiles when passing through the halls. Emma was one of those who would smile and talk a bit with me here and there. 

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