Page 96 of Dirty Roulette
“Realized what?” Jared asks, brows furrow as he sits down on the lounge chair. He leans over, his arms resting on his knees.
“I love Payt, and I...fuck... I’m so stupid...”
Nick swallows hard, his tongue rolling over his top teeth, nodding his head. “Bro...”
“I went down there to tell her... they were both drugged and I... Charlie was screaming at Brody to get off, and... I lost it, Ifucking lost it... I fled. I thought I killed him.”
“His face is pretty messed up, but he’s alive dude...” Nick steps over with the phone in his hand. I vaguely see the pictures of blood and stitches.
“Where is Charlie?” Jared runs both hands through his disheveled hair.
“She jumped out of the Jeep...”
“You let her leave?” Nick paces back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck. “What the hell, man!”
“Okay, dude...” Jared’s eyes dart across the floor as he wipes the edges of his lips. “I think you’d have self-defense on your side. The cops are gonna be pissed you left, but you were protecting your sister.”
“No, it will be battery. I’m heading straight to prison.”
Nick huffs. “Shut up man.” He holds his towel tightly around his waist. “We just need to go find Charlie and we’ll go to the hospital and call the cops. Tell them the truth, and everything will be fine.”
“Nick, finish your shower and chill out. We’re gonna figure this out,” Jared says with a huff. I almost believe him.
***
Jared drives. I slouch in the back seat where the windows are tinted, and I’m nothing but a silhouette to each car passing by. Every ten minutes, I call Charlie’s phone only for it to go to voicemail. The dread makes me feel like I’m drowning.
There hasn’t been any activity on her social media in the past eight hours either. She’s always scrolling and posting pictures every day. Social media is her diary for everyone to read.
Nausea froths in my mouth, sending her message after message, leaving her voicemails begging her to call me. We checked my home first. Mom is drugged up on different antidepressants and is so out of it she didn’t realize anything had happened. It spared me the agony of having to tell her I’ll rot in jail, and she’ll need to find her own way of paying the bills because I can’t.
A thready pulse made my blood violent in my veins. Jared parks in front of Cheer Phi’s Sorority. He unbuckles, gets out of the car, and walks up the porch steps. Brittni answers the door with arms crossed and rolls her eyes within seconds. She’s acting bitchy as usual, waving him off and slamming the door in his face.
With hands falling into his pockets, he comes back to the car plopping down in the seat. The annoying ping of the car beeps non-stop until he slams the door shut.
“She’s not there...” Jared releases a heavy breath and looks at me through the rearview mirror with a levied glare. “Do you know where her boyfriend lives?” he asks.
I pull out my cell, looking through previous locations I plugged in when delivering pizzas. It takes me a few minutes to find the correct date, scrolling through the history.
“Here...” I show him the address, and he types it into his phone before we pull out.
While he drives, I try again to call Charlie. It still does the same thing. It goes straight to voicemail. Numbness crawls all over my skin, and it’s starting to sink in that there is something seriously wrong. Fear clamps my heart, pulling it right out of my chest.
In another ten minutes we roll up to the house and the garage door is open with musical instruments hoarding every inch of the place. This time, I get out of the car and dip my hands into my pockets. Muscles in my legs burn, going rigid as I reach the front door and the doorbell stares at me.
I drown my lungs with air. The small relief it grants me when I breathe out disintegrates the minute I press an index finger on the bell. The sound echoes through the house. Shadows move in the window, getting closer as someone answers the door.
It’s not Noah, who I was also hoping to see. Or Charlie telling me to piss off, hit me, beat the living daylights out of me. No, it’s another guy with a man bun giving me a death glare through the screen door.
“I’m not interested in finding Jesus, man.”
I shake my head and wipe off the remark. “I’m looking for my sister.”
“Your sister... there aren't any chicks here buddy.”
“Charlie! You know who my sister is. She’s all over Noah’s nuts. Have you seen her?” I ask.
“Oh...” He hisses out a breath. “The chick who broke up with him before we went on stage. No, I haven’t seen her.”
