Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) (56 page)

“No, dude, I didn’t tell her…and she doesn’t actually
know
you’re here, but a little bit ago Jillian spilled a cup of punch all down the front of Camie’s dress and she said you had to be here and blamed you for it. I still don’t know how she knew you were coming though…how do you think she knew?”

I had to look at the ceiling and bite my lip to keep from laughing. I started shaking my head as we moved forward and replied, “She can’t blame me, that’s the cosmos’s area, not mine…”

“Huh, she said something about that too…anyway, whatever, so we’ll just g—”

“Uh-uh, I’m serious, man, besides, I still don’t have a ticket and I want it to be her choice to talk to me…I’m
not
gonna hijack her dance.”

“Dude, you don’t need a ticket…Henderson had the door and she bailed like an hour and a half ago,” he started to tell me and then he looked at my face and sighed, “Alright, I get it. How about if you just stick to the walls and watch from a distance? ‘Cause I’m tellin’ ya, she’s not gonna shut you down tonight…she’s been havin’ a
really
shitty time and Katy and I both think she’s been secretly hoping you
would
actually show up and kidnap her.”

“
Humph
. Well, I don’t
want
to kidnap her, that’s the point, but, I’ll go in. I won’t be blaming the cosmos if this blows up in my face though, I’ll be blaming you.”

“Yeah yeah…come on you big scaredy cat,” he said and opened the doors.

I followed him in, rolling my eyes and trying to not laugh at the scaredy cat comment. That was kinda hilarious comin’ from a guy who’s been known to occasionally have nightmares about one of my five-month-old kittens and a thirteen-year-old girl…

Bon Jovi or Nickelback? ~ Brandon

Pulling out a chair for my girl as we sat down at a table with Camie, Kate and Jillian, I watched Jeff leave the ballroom to go use the bathroom, and Scott wander over to get in line for punch.

“Does this hurt?” Melissa asked me, leaning in to place a short little kiss on the small cut on my bottom lip.

I shook my head and mumbled, “Mm-mm,” wanting that kiss to be longer and not quite so little even if it did sting a smidge.

“How about this?” She asked, repeating the process with the cut on my cheek.

“Mm-mm.” I winced a little though when she removed her lips from the cut and dabbed a wet napkin on it.

She laughed and said, “Liar.”

“I’m not a liar…it didn’t hurt until you started to fuck with it,” I retorted, laughing too, as I took the napkin from her and tossed it onto the table.

“You’re such a baby…what about this?” She asked and traced a finger very lightly over the roughly six-hour-old tattoo below my neck.

“What about it?” I asked quietly and tried to not wince or squirm out from under her finger as she traced the whole damned unhealed thing. Don’t get me wrong here, I can handle a lotta fuckin’ pain, but a fresh tattoo this size that’s bleeding again basically amounts to being a fourteen-by-three-inch open wound, so it doesn’t feel all that great to be touched there right at the moment, you know?

“Does it hurt?”

I almost said no again, but she raised her brow dubiously and showed me my own blood mixed with a little black ink on the tip of her finger so I went with the truth. “Yeah, little bit.”

“Little bit…Brandon, it’s still bleeding!”

I took her finger and wiped the blood on the front of my shirt. “I clot up pretty quick so it should stop soon.”

“But, shouldn’t it still be bandaged? I mean it’s open, what about infect—”

“It was done bleeding in less than an hour after I got it today…it’s not a big deal, the fight just started the bleeding again, but trust me, if it’s left alone it’ll stop and heal up just fine.” She kind of moaned her unsure disagreement and not that I mind the idea of playing doctor with her tonight, but the kind of role playing I have in mind doesn’t involve soap and band-aids, so before she could nag me about something I’ve had plenty of experience with, I decided to ask her about something I don’t have much experience with at all. “Hey Sexy, did you mean what you said to the joystick?”

“Uhh, which part?” She asked and looked away to the dance floor.

“The part where you said you love me…”

She looked at the ceiling for a second and then finally at me and answered, “Mm, I don’t know.”

“Excuse me? You don’t
know
?”

“
Ugh
, fine…it depends on whether or not you’re gonna do the guy thing.”

I was at a loss and starting to wonder if she’d been sippin’ off the joystick’s flask so I asked, “The guy thing?”

“Yeah, the guy thing. You know, guys get all freaked out and either back way off or run screaming when they hear I love you.”

I cocked my head to the side and just looked at her a moment before saying, “Um, last night I risked life and limb by scaling a goddamned two-story, rose covered trellis for you,
twice
, and got all scraped to hell in the process, I just kicked the
shit
out of your fuckin’ ex-boyfriend’s ass because he was bein’ verbally abusive to you, and now my
blood
is literally seeping through your name that’s permanently etched into the skin of my collar bone, so what do you think, Sexy, you think I’m gonna do the guy thing?” I heard snickering coming from around the table and when I looked at the other girls sitting there I saw Jillian roll her eyes at Melissa, Kate nodding at her like, “Duh,” and Camie trying to not laugh. I looked at Melissa and then back at the other girls, held my cup up in a half-toast and before I took a drink I said, “I’m just sayin’…”

We were all laughing about Melissa’s irritated, “
Ugh
, fine, I love you, but I’ll be pissed if you freak out on me later,” statement when I saw Jeff walk back into the dance, and I hope no one took my choking on bad punch as the shock at seeing Tristan following him that it actually was. It was completely obvious Tristan didn’t wanna be seen by anyone, least of all Camie, as he clung to the walls of the ballroom and slowly made his way around until he stopped behind a tower of balloons across from us on the other side of the room. I looked back at Jeff who’d stopped walking to talk to Pete who I hadn’t seen since I went to the bathroom last, which had to be at
least
twenty minutes ago. They both looked over here, Pete appearing calm but
hella
pissed, and Jeff looking furious and nervous as his eyes darted over to Tristan hidden in the shadows. Pete followed his gaze and immediately looked away, no longer looking calm.

I was trying to get a handle on what was happening when the fuckstick pulled up a chair in between me and Camie and said, “So, Camie, I know I haven’t been a very good date for this thing and I’m really sorry you’re having such a lousy time, but I come bearing punch, cherry not grape, and if you still want to, I’ll dance with you…just be warned, I pretty much suck at it.”

She started laughing a little at his humble apology and the girls and him started to stand up to go dance, but then Camie went to pick up the punch he’d set on the table in front of her when all of a sudden, the tablecloth was pulled, making all the cups on the table tip over and spill. I looked at who was responsible and chuckled when all Jillian did was say, “Oops,” and gesture to a corner of the tablecloth that was stuck in her purse. I would say that she’d probably snapped her purse shut after putting lipgloss on or something, inadvertently catching the tablecloth, which was pulled away from the table when she stood up. That’s what I
would
say…if it were anyone except Jillian. It wasn’t that big of a deal, I mean most of the cups were empty except for Camie’s, but the fuckstick kinda freaked and Camie now has a few red stains on her dress to go with the many purple ones. I’m not too sure when or how exactly those got there, but Camie was just shaking her head in irritation and then she started looking around the ballroom when I decided to stand up and step into her line of sight to Tristan just as Pete and Jeff joined us.

“Aw, what happened?” Jeff asked a little too sarcastically and nailed the fuckstick with his eyes.

“Camie’s fuckin’ kid sister happened, that’s what! Seriously, are you retarded or something? I mean, why are you even here? Isn’t it way past your bedtime?” I started shaking my head, but I was surprised when Jillian didn’t do or say a thing in response. However, Pete did.

Standing next to Jillian, Pete had gone rigid and I sensed that energy I had before when he administered swift punishment to Jeff, and I’m pretty sure he wanted to eat the fuckstick’s heart, but all he did was nod at Jeff, who put on a hand firmly on the fuckstick’s shoulder and forced him back into his chair. Then, taking Jillian’s purse from her, Pete pulled out her iPod and played a video. You couldn’t see shit on the screen because wherever it was recorded was practically pitch dark, which made me think maybe the picture wasn’t the important part so switching gears; I started paying attention to the sound. It sounded like a conversation but there was only one voice. And then I heard it. My long sought after proof.

“
You mother fucker!!
I
knew
you fucking raped that poor girl!” I announced, my suspicion vindicated at last, and then growling, I started to move towards him. I stayed put though when I felt Melissa’s hands gently push against my chest.

He sat there for a second just listening to his own voice in shock, but then when he heard me and he saw Camie looking at me and then him in confusion, he tried to get up so he could make a run for it. Jeff wasn’t havin’ it though and I got the impression there was more to it, but in order for Jeff to keep him in the chair without breaking his neck like I’m sure he wanted to do, he had to set a photo album and an envelope on the table. Then he looked directly at Jillian and said, “I’d love to kill him right
here and now
, but that wouldn’t end well as we’re
being viewed
by
too many people and then Katy would lose her fiancé and
Tristan
would lose his best friend because I
would
wind up in jail for literally murdering him
, so please be my hero and tell me you got ‘em on you somewhere.”

Jillian sorta smirked and actually reached into her cleavage to produce a pair of fucking handcuffs. Handcuffs! I shit you not; the chick carries handcuffs in her bra. I mean how can you not appreciate and respect that?

Jeff took ‘em and grinning wickedly at her over the fuckstick’s shoulder as he cuffed one of his hands to the chair, he whispered in his ear just loud enough for us to hear, “You really shouldn’t call a genius retarded, you evil fuck, and you’re honestly lucky she didn’t gut you like a fucking fish for calling her a kid earlier and again just now, and just so you know, the rest of us might be worried about goin’ to jail, but she’d never get caught so none of us will stop her from cutting you open and hanging you from your entrails if you make even the smallest scene here, you understand me?”

“I—I don’t u—understand what’s h—happening here…” Camie stuttered and looked back and forth at Pete, Jeff, Me, and the fuckstick just like all the other girls aside from Jillian were doing. Jillian was looking at the fuckstick like she was trying to estimate if his intestines would in fact hold his weight if she hung him by them.

“He was planning on date raping you, Camie,” Jeff told Camie and looked at Pete who was vibrating with unsurpassed anger still while making sure he kept his back to Tristan. It was weird. He could’ve helped Jeff keep the fuckstick in the chair before he got cuffed, but he would’ve had to turn around to face Tristan’s direction and it was obvious, to me at least, that he was dead set against doing that.

“Wh—ra—I—how? I don’t—” Poor Camie. She was so shocked and confused she couldn’t even form coherent sentences anymore and she was starting to just sorta crumple. She would’ve ended up sitting on the floor, but I grabbed a chair and got her into it, shaking my head sadly as she stared blankly at the table in front of her.

Scott glared at me and Pete, and then his face went white when Pete pulled out his phone. Well, I thought it was his phone, but…

“How the fuck?!” Scott gasped and used his free hand to pat the pockets of his jacket.

“So let’s see…” Pete said, tapping a couple of icons on the phone that I’m figuring is actually the fuckstick’s, “Trevor took the pictures, Doug gave you the drugs, you’ve got their numbers, addresses, emails, Twitter and Facebook names in here…God, you gotta love Gmail…and the guy you called last is Aaron Anderson, I’m assuming he’s the one who got arrested for the rape and got let go…Brandon, those names ring any bells?”

“Yep. So that’s four out of the five…I’m sure I know who the other one is too.”

“Jeff, what the
hell
is going on?!” Kate demanded to know, looking back and forth between him, Camie, and me.

“Well, Tristan and Brandon were right all along…this guy is pure evil. In addition to what he did to Samantha, he was part of a gang rape last year, and tonight he was trying to slip Camie ecstasy so he could get her up to his room without it looking like—”

“Oh my God! That’s why Jillian kept spilling everything he gave her?” Kate asked in shock and looked at Jillian who just winked in reply.

“Yeah, but even if he couldn’t ‘pre-game her’ like he wanted, he was still gonna give her a roofie once they got to his room, but, kinda hard to do that without a key or ID to get another one…” Pete confidently stated and casually he threw down a hotel room key and a wallet on the table that, judging from the fuckstick’s expression, I’m guessing belongs to him.

Then all of a sudden, Jeff stilled and pulled out his phone. He looked at it and cleared his throat uncomfortably and nervously before looking at Camie. “Camie, those are for you,” he said and pointed to the two items he’d put on the table, “You uh…you should probably start with the book…”

Everyone’s attention turned to Camie who was still shellshocked and hadn’t made a move to pull the book with the envelope on it to her, so I reached over and slid them in front of her, and noticing a red ribbon acting as a bookmark, I opened the book up to the pages it was between.