Page 12 of Born into Madness
Not here, I plead with myself.Don’t fall apart here.
Grabbing my inhaler, I take a quick puff, hoping like hell this is just a minor asthma attack brought on by emotional stress. The dread is still thick around me, threatening to sink its claws into me, but for now, I’m okay.
I actually start to believe it until I hear the scratchy voice that haunts every nightmare I’ve ever had.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
I look up, meeting Billy’s eyes, and my breath catches in my throat. My voice is shaky when I say, “Mom said you were working tonight.”
“Job was canceled,” he says, stopping right in front of me. Billy isn’t a big man. He’s only a couple inches taller than me, and I’m guessing I weigh more than him, but I know from experience how strong he is. He has a wiry kind of strength, the kind that you don’t expect and you never see coming.
He steps in even closer, and the corner of his mouth lifts up when I take a step back. “Trying to avoid me?”
“Yes,” I say, and then I squeeze my bag to my chest and try to step around him. He blocks my path and then reaches out to grab a lock of my hair.
“That’s hurtful, Rusty,” he tells me, and I cringe at the nickname I despise.
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss at him.
He grins even bigger, and I curse myself for giving him the reaction he was obviously waiting for.
“Is my little Rusty girl upset?” Tugging harder on my hair, he adds, “You going to start crying again?”
I can feel the panic closing in on me. Knowing I have only seconds to get my ass out of here, I force my feet to move as I step around him. He doesn’t let go of my hair, waiting until I’m far enough away for it to hurt, and then he gives one last tug before letting the strands slip through his fingers. I hear his laughter behind me as I run down the sidewalk. As soon as I’ve cleared the street and turned the corner, I lean against the brick building and force air into my lungs.
Bricks behind me, sidewalk under my feet, bag in my hands, warm air in my lungs.
With my eyes closed, I focus on my breath, using the box breathing technique I’d read about online. Inhale for four counts, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four, and then repeat until I don’t feel like I’m having a heart attack or a complete mental breakdown. Eventually my heart slows and the tightness in my chest loosens enough for me to breathe normally.
When I open my eyes, the world is exactly as it was when I left it. I get a few odd looks from a group of girls walking by, but I’m way past caring about whether or not I look weird. Not wanting to waste any more time here, I push off from the wall and head for the subway. Once I’m seated and on my way back to campus, I return to my calming inner monologue.
Plastic chair beneath my ass, metal railing under my hand, vibrations from the subway.
With a sigh of relief, I get out at my exit, disappearing into the crowd as I make my way to campus. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically worn out, and I feel nauseated, probably because it’s been so long since I’ve eaten. Iceberg lettuce and a cob of corn is not going to cut it. Wanting to reward myself with something special after the night from hell I just endured, I make a quick stop to grab my favorite black bean tacos from Bean Me Up.
Carrying my supper and bag in one hand, I make sure I can easily reach my pepper spray with the other as I cross campus. Even though it’s a weeknight, when I get close to the edge of campus, I can hear the bass-heavy music coming from the U-shaped street to my right.
Greek Row is officially off-campus property, but still close enough to be within easy walking distance, which is a good thing considering the parties they hold and the amount of alcohol and drugs that are consumed during them. I can just make out the pretty white columns on the Kappas’ mansion and the massiveold red brick house across the street that belongs to the Alphas. The music is of course coming from their house, and I wonder if Sav is there right now. I hope she’s having fun if she is. I don’t want to ruin her night by telling her about mine. All that can wait until tomorrow.
The music fades as I get closer to my dorm, and I’m almost to the entrance when I hear a soft whine. My ears immediately perk up, recognizing the canine sound, and I quickly look around to find whoever made it. When I spot the large Doberman near my stairs, I freeze at the sight of him. I’d been expecting something smaller, something a little less intimidating, but I try to never judge a book by its cover, so I squat down while my hand reaches into my bag. Working part time at a vet clinic and volunteering at an animal shelter means I’m never without a doggy treat.
“Hey, pupper,” I say while I hold my hand out. “Are you hungry? You want a snack?”
He perks up at that word and trots over to me. I’d worried about him being a stray, but when he gets closer, I see the black collar and silver tags hanging from his neck. While he chomps on the dog bone, I tentatively reach my hand out. He doesn’t try to bite me, so I pet his chest and give it a scratch.
“You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you?”
He licks his lips and studies me with his pretty amber eyes. The name on his tag saysChort, and I smile when I see it because it reminds me of a book I’d read last year. It was filled with Slavic folktales, and there’d been a few about the scary demon Chort.
“I guess you do look kind of scary,” I tell him before giving him another dog bone, “but you’re nothing but a big softie, aren’t you?”
Before I can try and find a phone number to let his owner know he’s loose, I hear a quick, sharp whistle. Chort jerks his head to the side, all of his focus on where the sound had come from. Before he runs off, he looks back and gives my cheek a lick.Then he’s off, running down the sidewalk towards the end of the building.
Grabbing my bags, I stand and have just enough time to catch sight of a shadowy figure turning the corner. It’s too dark to make out any details, but what I can tell is that he’s enormous. Taller than the average man by several inches and shoulders broader than I’ve ever seen.
Damn, Chort’s a lucky dog. I can’t imagine how dangerous the two of them look together. Maybe his owner is as big of a softie as his dog. I’m guessing I’ll never know. I’ve been living on campus since freshman year, and I’ve never seen either of them around. I may not have seen his face, but I’d recognize a set of shoulders like that.
With one last glance down the sidewalk to make sure Chort doesn’t come running back, I head inside and up to my dorm room. The good thing about rooming with Brittney is that she often stays over with other people. I don’t think she has a boyfriend, but she’s determined to make the most of her college years. I envy her sometimes. If I wasn’t committed to my pinkie promise with Sav, I’d be forcing myself to go out and have some fun. Maybe I’d find Chort’s owner and have a night I’m sure I’d never forget.
