Threat (25 page)

“Um, are you looking for Colin?” I
ask as he approaches, taking a step back. He looks like he's pushing
60, with long stringy, greying hair tied back in a ponytail, and a
face full of wrinkles. Something about him makes me uneasy and I
don't know what it is.

He looks me up and down and smirks, making the
hair on my neck stand on end. “Let me guess, you're Leah?”
he asks.

“Um, yes?” I reply tentatively. Who
is he, and why does he know my name? “I was actually just about
to leave...”

I hoped he would get the hint, but obviously he
doesn't. “My, my, my. Now I understand why you have my son
so...bewitched.”

Huh? “Wait...are you Threat's dad?”

His brows shoot up and he laughs. “Threat
said you were smart.”

“He isn't here, sorry. And I haven't seen
him in days.”

“Oh, I know. I just came back from a
little impromptu meeting with him,” he says. “It seems as
though he left a few of his things here. Sent me over to retrieve
'em.”

That was true, he did leave a few clothes and
personal belongings in his room—Janet hasn't had the heart to
pack them all up or call him about it yet.

“Yeah, he does. It's quite a bit of stuff
though and none of it is together yet.” Half true.

“No worries, I don't mind coming up there
and helping you out.”

Ew.
Okay, now I'm skeeved out. There's
no way I'm going into the house alone with him. I don't care if he's
Threat's dad, he gives me the worst vibe ever.

I nervously pretend to look down at my watch,
even though I'm not wearing one. “Um, like I said, I'm on my
way out and I'm actually running late. Maybe have Threat call first
and then come by later?”

He simply stares me down and smirks, again. Now
I see where Threat gets that from. But it sure isn't sexy coming his
father.

“Threat's a little bit busy these days.
Just turned over the keys to my shop to him.”

Wait, Threat's dad gave him his tattoo shop?
Strange. He never mentioned that before.

“Actually he wanted me to thank you for
helping him secure the shop.”

My brow peaks. “I think you're mistaken.
I didn't help him do anything.”

“Oh, but you helped in more ways than you
know.”

I shake it off. The old man is probably senile.
“I don't know what you're talking about. And I don't have
anything to do with Threat anymore.” It's a bitter pill to
swallow, but at this point, it's true. “So if you could
please—”

“He really didn't tell you about our
little bet?” he says. “And you didn't figure it out?
Maybe you're not so smart after all.”

“Bet?”

“My son and I like to make a game of
things.” Yeah, I can tell, he obviously loves to talk in
freaking riddles. “Like for example, I would give him $100 if
he got you to drink, or $50 or if he got you on the back of his bike.
Or more, if he got you to skinny dip, or something like that.”

My whole body tenses at his words. I question
myself for a moment—why am I giving this lunatic the time of
day? Everything he says seems too far fetched to be true. But then it
dawns on me—everything he just said lines up perfectly with
Threat's dares. It explains why Threat wanted to play that stupid
game of truth or dare to begin with.

And I went along with it.

My heart sinks in my chest.

“You wanna know what he did to seal the
deal?” His tongue flicks out of his mouth and he licks his
lips, his gaze traveling my length once more.

“I—I don't believe a single thing
you're saying,” I reply. Except I do, because it's exactly the
type of thing Threat would do. I thought he was starting to change,
but I was wrong.

I march around to the driver's side of my car
and Threat's father follows.

“Yes you do, you believe every word
because you know it's true.”

“Get the hell off of my property!”
I turn and shout at him.

“You know exactly what kind of guy Threat
is. You just don't want to admit that he fucked you over. Literally,”
he adds with a hacking laugh.

I swear I see a flash of red before my eyes. My
cheeks heat. “Get out and don't come back here ever,” I
say through gritted teeth. “You
or
Threat.”

He chuckles darkly, throwing his hands up like
he's about to surrender. “Fine sweetheart, I'm leaving. Oh, but
first, Threat wanted to me to give you this.” He reaches into
his pocket and pulls out a folded up $100 bill. “For your
services.”

I glance back up at his sadistic grin in utter
disbelief. Tears sting my eyes—this man is a disgusting piece
of shit, but I still can't help but feel cheap and used. “Fuck.
You,” I hiss before turning quickly on my heel and climbing
into my car. I peel out of the driveway and down the street at
breakneck speeds, leaving Threat's father behind in the dust.

It still hurts and I still miss him, but now I
realize Threat leaving was the best thing that ever happened to me.

*

“I'm going to be leaving soon. Could you
at least talk to me?”

Dad nudges me in the arm repeatedly. With a
huff I crash down on the hard piece of cardboard my school refers to
as a “bed”. My dorm room is so banal—tiny and
cramped with one small window and beige cinder block walls. This is
what I expect a prison cell to look like; not the place I'll spend
the next two years in. I guess Threat was right when in thinking I've
been spoiled by my dad's homes.

Threat.
He's the last person I want to
think about, and the one person I can't get off my mind. I always
promised myself I'd never let another guy burn me, not after the
asshole I lost my virginity to just walked away. I swore I'd never be
one of those pitiful girls who pined over guys who treated them like
shit. And yet, here I am.

I had to get away. I couldn't be in the same
city, let alone state, as Threat anymore. A change of scenery was the
only remedy, and I had to get back on track and focus on my future,
and not douchebags who don't give a shit about me.

When I told Dad I would start school early, he
assumed it was because of the tension in the house after Threat's
departure. It was a nice and easy cover up. He didn't even put up
much of a resistance, even though I know he's disappointed that we
won't have one last summer together.

Truth be told, I am too. Now I'm wondering if I
made the right choice.

“I don't like it here,” I pout.
“There, I said something. Are you happy?”

“Leah,” he replies sternly. As
stern as my dad can get, at least.

I drop my eyes to the floor. “Sorry.”

He crashes down next to me. “I know it's
not the room you're upset about. You've barely spoken a word since
the bonfire,” he says. I tense when he mentions that. “
I
know you're still a bit shaken up after everything the whole Threat
ordeal.”

He doesn't know the half of it.

His face falls. “I should have known,
with all the stress you were under after graduation, that changing
things so drastically would only exacerbate it. I'm really sorry I
screwed up your last few days at home with all this drama.”

What?
He's
apologizing to
me
? For
what? If anything, it should be the opposite. Truth be told, I've
been silently angry at him for throwing Threat under the bus.
Logically, I know he had every right to, but that logic hasn't
stopped me from resenting him. The last thing I deserve is an
apology.

“Dad, that's not what I'm upset about.”

He looks confused. “Then why are you
upset?”

Shit, I just talked myself into a corner didn’t
I? How am I supposed to answer that—
oh
I fucked my step brother and now I'm all hormonal about it.
Shit.

“I, um...it's just—”

“You and Threat were getting along well,
weren't you?” I gulp. “I know you had some reservations
about him to begin with. Janet was the one who noticed it.”

I nervously tug on my hair. “He's a nice
guy after all. He just has a difficult time showing it. Things
haven't been easy on him.” I'm trying my hardest not to say too
much.

“Yeah, I know someone who's hurt when I
see them,” he pauses, staring down at his hands. “I
didn't like doing it. I felt terrible telling him to leave and I
still do. But you understand why I couldn't keep him around, right?”

I nod. “I just wish things could have
worked out differently.”

“So do I.” He breaths out a sigh.

I put my arms around his shoulders. “Dad,
you didn't do anything wrong. You deserve to be happy, now or
whenever. And you can't control the actions of others—not
Threat's or anyone else. You've made enough sacrifices for me.”

“They're not
sacrifices
when they're for you.”

I squeeze his shoulders tight before letting
him go. “Just remember, I wouldn't be happy if you had chosen
to be alone, just for my sake, okay? That would actually make me feel
really, really guilty.”

He studies my eyes for a moment, his thin lips
forming a tight smile. “You're a pretty good kid, you know? I
think I actually did something right.”

I giggle. “You did a lot of things right,
trust me.”

He waves me off, his cheeks flushing a shade of
pink.

I lean back on my hands, relieved that my dad
and I would leave off on a good note. My eyes fall on the three big
boxes piled in the corner of my room. It's hard to believe my whole
life has been reduced to those.

This room is so suffocating. Suffocating and
lonely. I'm supposed to have a roommate, but according to the RA I
might not get one until the fall semester. What if I don't make any
friends? What if college ends up just like high school, and everyone
hates me? Uneasiness tightens in my belly.

“Maybe...moving in early wasn't a great
idea after all?” I admit.

“There's no turning back now, kiddo.”

I clutch my stomach. “I don't feel good.”

“You feel fine. And I'm not taking you
back home.”

I groan. “Can you at least stay one more
day.”

“Nope. I've got a show to do. Gotta pay
for your tuition, remember?”

“I have a full ride scholarship,
remember?”

“Those books are expensive.”

“You're just trying to punish me for
leaving home early.”

He chuckles. “No, it's just nerves. It'll
pass soon. Before long you'll fall into the groove of things and
it'll take the jaws of life to get you to even visit me back home.”

“You sure do want to get rid of me.”

“This is ten thousand times more
difficult for me than it is for you. Believe me.”

And I do.

He stands up and ruffles his hand through my
hair. “You know if you need anything, I'm only eight hours
away.” He bends forward, placing a kiss on my forehead before
making his way through to the door. Before he gets there he stops and
surveys the walls. Pointing to one, he turns his nose up and adds,
“but good luck making this place look better than a crypt.”

*

I've been alone here for the past thirty
minutes, but it feels like it's been hours. All I do is stare at the
three huge boxes in the corner—why does such a small amount of
things suddenly feel like a lot? I don't want to deal with it. I just
want to contemplate my loneliness, wallow in a mixture of self pity
and anxiety.

I roll over on to my side, hearing a knock on
the door at almost the same time. That's weird—the dorm was
nearly empty when we got here, the only person I figure it could be
is the RA. Unless Dad left something, which would give me the perfect
opportunity to beg him once more to take me home.

I pull myself up off the bed and slink towards
the door. And when I open it, the absolute last person I expected to
see again is waiting on the other side.

“Threat?” I whisper.

I blink rapidly and question my sanity. He's
not real, I decide. It's just that thing your mind does when you
can't stop thinking about someone to the point that you see them
everywhere, which just makes you miss them even more.

That's how the last few days have been for me,
and apparently, that tradition is continuing now.

Except this time, Threat doesn't disappear or
turn into someone else. This isn't my mind playing tricks on me, a
mirage, or a hologram. Threat is real, in the flesh, and standing
right outside my dorm room.

How the hell did he even find me?

I stand in stunned silence. My lips move but
nothing comes out.

“Hi, Leah,” he replies solemnly.

The second I hear him speak I remember who he
really is, all his schemes, and the way he used me just to get what
he wanted. The fucking bet. I think I despise him now even more than
I did back in junior high. He hasn't changed and he never will.