Misplaced Trust (Misjudged) (4 page)

My father called a half hour ago to say
that he landed safely in Florida.

I don’t think it would be a big surprise to say I didn’t get a lot of sleep again last night. Neil and I left my father’s
house a lot later than we had anticipated because of what had happened, resulting in us arriving back at campus well after midnight.

When the
cops finished their forensic search, I noticed they took away a few items in clear evidence bags with them. Because the three of us had also been in there, both before and after the burglary, we had to stay longer so they could take each set of our fingerprints and to answer a few questions.

From what we could gather, n
othing appeared to have been taken. Mainly the place had just been messed up. Luckily my father decided to still go on his vacation. This made me feel a whole lot better, knowing he would be away from the house, because where we have no idea who or why someone would have any reason to break in, or whether they would be back, I’m a lot happier knowing he won’t be there on his own.    

There was no sign of a forced entry, so at this present moment in time, the cops believe that ei
ther the intruder, or intruders somehow had access with a key, or think that we didn’t lock up properly on our way out. My father is absolutely sure he locked everything up though.

He
promised me that he would have a locksmith stop by first thing this morning, leaving the new set of keys with his neighbor, ready for when he returns at the weekend. Hopefully the cops would have already caught the person or persons responsible for all of this by then.

After grabbing a shower and some breakfast
, a bowl of muesli, which tasted nowhere near as good as my father’s cooked breakfast yesterday morning, I decided to go and visit my mom’s headstone for a while.

“They’re
nice,” Neil says, gesturing towards the spray of flowers I just bought from the little florists on the corner by the cemetery, for which I always use.

It’s raining today so I find us both trying to take cover under my umbrella, and with Ne
il being slightly taller than I am, I’m still feeling the rain hitting my face. It actually feels nice. Although I told him he didn’t have to join me, he said he didn’t mind, actually, he insisted on coming along.

Walking through the gates, stepping to the
side to allow a blonde woman to pass by us, I glance over to my left. An enormous flower arrangement on Holly’s memorial stone catches my eye almost immediately. A sinking feeling washes over me when I begin to wonder if they’re from Brandon.

Sadness, heartache, and a
nauseas feeling flies through me at the thought, making me anxious to know if he’s been back since he left, “Neil, do you mind if I just go over to see something?”

“No, whatever you need,” he smiles,
though the smile soon disappears and turns into a frown when he realizes what it is that I’m talking about, but his reaction doesn’t stop me. I want to know if he’s been back.

Arriving at the foot
of Holly’s grave, the different array of flowers, from lilies, to roses, tulips, and daisies look absolutely stunning. Reaching down, I notice the small handwritten card amongst the beautiful arrangement.

You and me, forever.

I’ll never forget you, Holly.

Ever.

X

Wow.

Standing
up and wiping the blurriness away from my eyes, I turn and walk away, feeling too choked up to say anything, but I do notice Neil’s gaze fixated on the flowers as I pass by him.

I know
it’s wrong and completely selfish to be jealous of someone who isn’t even around anymore, but I can’t help how I feel. Why couldn’t he have wanted me just as much as he wanted her? He came here, placed the biggest bouquet of flowers beside her headstone, but not once did he think to contact me. Not one freaking time.

He would have gotten my messages, all of them, voice and text.
I only wish I knew what I did wrong for him rip the necklace,
the promise
, away from me. I want to know what I can do to make things right again, but as the more days pass, I feel like maybe I read more into our relationship than he did. Perhaps I wanted to believe his love for me was as strong as my love was …
is
, for him.

I hate doubting him. I hate questioning us and what we had.

P
lacing the flowers for my mom by her graveside, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay with her for too long today. I’m far too exhausted and way too emotionally drained.

***

Twenty minutes after I had arrived by my mom’s graveside, my cell phone sprang to life. It was the garage asking if I could drop by so they could go over what they found with my car. It would have been helpful if they would have at least told me what the amount of damage was, or how much it would cost for me to get it fixed, but no, they wanted me to stop by.

Once I’d explained the call to Neil, we both said
our goodbyes and headed separate ways. He’d arranged to meet with one of his college buddies Downtown, and the garage is located approximately a mile away and in the opposite direction.

After s
pending some time there, I make my way towards the campus,
on foot.
That was not the news I was hoping for. From now on, I’m without a car, at least until I can raise enough cash for a new one anyway.

The mechanic told me that unless I wan
ted to spend more on getting my car fixed than what the car is actually worth, it wasn’t worth my money or time. Neil was right, the engine was fucked. What I can’t and don’t understand though is how water had gotten in to the fuel tank.

I’m not exactly the brightest person when it comes to cars, but I most certainly wouldn’t have
filled the tank with anything but gas. The gauge was almost on zero when I visited the filling station, on the day before travelling to my father’s, and I filled it to the brim,
with gas.

The guy even asked whether I have any friends who like to play expensive practical jokes, or if I’ve gotten on the wrong side of anyone recently, laughing it off
as soon as I threw a scowl his way.

Planning to indulge
in a large bottle of wine as soon as I make it back up to the dorm, I walk through the campus gates and head towards my building.

“So what did he do this time?” Great. Closing my eyes a
t the sound of Matt’s voice, taking a deep breath, I choose to ignore the asshole, and try to walk around him when he attempts to block my path. “Was it drugs again?”

Today is not the day this asshole wants to mess with me, I swear it isn’t.

“Oh I get it, you don’t know,” he smirks and follows me to the bottom of the steps. “You don’t know because he fucked you, and then he left you!” both the venom in his tone and his words sting.
A lot.

Don’t rise to it, A
lex. He wants a reaction. Do NOT give him one.

“Fuck you, Matt,” I snap,
feeling all the more tempted to turn on my heel and punch him in the face, but there’s something holding me back. That something being that it would most likely make his day, and that is particularly something that I really don’t want to do.

“S
ee, that’s where the problem lies, Alex. You wouldn’t, but then if Brandon dumped your ass right after you slept together, its most likely because you were shit in the sack anyway.”

Usually I can handle the things coming from Matt’s overactive mouth, but
this, this is way out of line.

Turning back around to face him, while also wondering what kind of comeback I can give him for making me feel
so inadequate, I still when my eyes land over on the opposite building.

Speaking on his cell phone, with his eyes directed solely over on me, is Harry. “What’s the matt
er, Alex? You’ve gone kinda white,” Matt smirks, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets as he takes a step closer towards me. “You wanna come with me and see if I can teach you how to fuck properly? It might be a challenge, but I think I can handle it.”

“Go to hell, Matt,” I snap, never once al
lowing my eyes to leave Harry. I have absolutely no idea who that guy is or what he wants, but I know one thing for sure, I don’t trust him one tiny bit.

Hearing
Matt let out a laugh as I turn and head up the steps, I throw him the finger over my shoulder as I walk through the entrance doors, and away from one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

Alyssa and Ryan aren’t due
to arrive back until Tuesday, and with Neil out for most probably the rest of the day, I have the place to myself, and unfortunately also my thoughts.

Once I get
to my room, I decide to take a long hot shower to get myself warmed back up, before maybe trying to get some sleep. Walking over to my desk, I take the broken necklace from my jacket pocket, feeling the tears beginning to pool in my eyes when I think of Brandon.

“Why?”
I whisper to myself, placing the necklace up to my lips and kissing it softly, before laying it down beside my laptop.

Turning around to grab some fresh
clothes, my heart jumps into my throat and my stomach begins to knot tightly when I hear the whispered word, “Beautiful.”

Blinking a few times to make sure I’m
neither hearing or seeing things, I re-open them one final time and see that he’s still standing there, watching me anxiously and appearing nervous. His hair is flat, he looks drained, but he still looks unbelievably handsome.

“Where
…? I mean … What …? Is …?”

Stumbling on every word I try to say, he walks slowly towards me, his eyes filled with what
appears to be a high amount of emotions, the main one being uncertainty. “You … but you …”

Unable to speak from both the shock of seeing him and his closeness, all I can d
o is stand frozen to the spot. I feel his breaths sweep across my cheek as he approaches, until he’s standing only a couple of inches away from me.

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” his voice
is shaky and he swallows, hard. Leaning closer with his fingers caressing my lips, I gaze deep into his eyes.

Am I imagining this?

His nose brushes with mine and his lips skim lightly over my mouth. His warm breaths make it impossible for me to think straight as he strokes the fingers of his right hand lightly through my hair. Leaning his forehead against mine, he searches my eyes as his tongue strokes softly over my lips.

Unable to think about anything but having him here and so close, I open
my mouth, still not quite believing he’s back in my room and back with me. I close my eyes, throw my arms around his neck, and slide my tongue into his mouth. Meeting his with soft strokes, I feel a delicious warmth spreading throughout my entire body.

G
ripping at his hair and getting as close to him as I possibly can, by pressing my body hard up against his, I feel him wrap his arms tightly around my waist, his tongue now plunging against mine. I hear a groan escaping from deep within his chest as he grips at my waist, while pressing himself firmly against me. Moving me backwards, I soon feel the back of my body being pressed hard up against the wall.

Feeling his fingers roam across my lower back as he untucks my shirt, goose bumps caused from his touch begin to prickle over my skin, and a deep heat rushes down to the apex of my thighs.

Removing my arms from his neck, I reach for the belt on his pants, hastily trying to unfasten them, but he grabs at my hands, stopping me from being able to loosen it completely.

Pulling
away from our kiss, his breathing is heavy, ragged even, as we both take a couple of seconds to catch our breaths. His eyes are searching mine, and I notice that his have become slightly glazed.

Grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, I
crash my lips back onto his, and feel as he hesitates, “Alexis …” he speaks against my lips, and when I open my eyes, his are wide and his shoulders have tensed. “I don’t think—”

“I need you, Brandon,” I whisper shakily, fearing that he’s about to reject me.
Removing my hands from his, I reach out and slowly begin to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, keeping my eyes on his the whole time. It feels as though it has been a hell of a lot longer than two weeks since I last felt his touch.

Sliding the shirt over his shoulders, allowing it to fall freely to the floor, I trace my fingers over his che
st and abs before lowering them down to the waistband of his pants. His breaths become rapid as my hand slides slowly underneath the denim fabric.

“Fuck
kkk,” he lets out in a small growl as my hand brushes over his length, and in the next moment, his lips are back on mine. As he presses me against the wall with a lot more force this time, I find my hands are pinned above my head with one of his as the other trails lightly down my neck, his fingers roaming over my cleavage before he rips open my shirt and stills his movements.