Page 11 of Stevie
“Uh huh… and when does addressing it ever go well? She is about to get torn apart in the worst way. I just hope it doesn’t bleed into the real world, but if it does—”
“That’s where I come in.”
“Precisely.”
* * *
Pulling into the empty parking lot of Nuts About Dough, I kill my engine and stare at the backdoor. I usually have to park in a different lot and walk over, but she’s not getting that tonight. Not when she is refusing to answer my texts and calls. Arrangement be damned. I told her I needed her to let me know she’s okay, and she’s ignoring me. After the phone call with Janie, I went back to my sister’s party, but I was distracted for the rest of the night. My mind continuously going to Stevie, and my hands unable to stop refreshing the video; watching it go from thousands of views to tens of thousands, the hundreds of comments going to thousands, and her follower count skyrocketing. There were a hundred bad comments for every one nice comment, and my blood was beginning to boil.
After promising to bring my girlfriend over the next time, I left the party. I went to my house and started calling, texting, and emailing her, and the fucking brat ignored me.
Or she’s in trouble and can’t answer me. I have no idea which, so here I am, storming up to her unlocked door. “I’m going to kill her,” I growl as I open the door and walk up the stairs. I try her door at the top of the stairs, and when I’m met with no resistance from the lock, I am both terrified and furious.
Tapping on the door as I walk through it, I look around her studio apartment. “Stevie?” I call out, wishing I had thought to grab my gun before walking up here. I hear movement from the bathroom and see the door cracked open, a warm light glowing. I put my hand on the door. “Holy shit, Stevie!”
Stevie sits on the floor, her body slumped against the shower glass door. “Fuck. Baby, what happened?” I panic as I pull her head to look at me. She’s so pale, and her eyes are hazy.
“Mmm… Brooks?” She croaks, and fuck, her voice is so weak.
“Stevie, w-what happened? Did someone attack you?” Her dark brows furrow as she looks up at me.
“What? N-no, I have a migraine and started bleeding. I think I got light-headed.” I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.
“Okay,” I tell her while standing up. “Come on, I’ll get you to bed.” I lift her to her feet and hold her as she grabs her stomach and doubles over. “Come on, Peaches, let me get you to the bed, and I’ll take care of you.” I walk her to her pull-out bed and cover her up once she lays down.
“I can handle this myself,” she snaps under her breath, and I roll my eyes.
“Yes, because you’re doing such a great job. Both doors unlocked, collapsed on the bathroom floor, not answering your goddamn phone, not to mention that video you posted.” She stops rubbing her head and looks at me.
“What video?”
“The video that the entire internet is freaking out about? The piercing–”
“Entire internet?” She interrupts while reaching over to her end table and grabbing her phone. “Oh… my god.” Her wide eyes find mine, and she shakes her head. “I-I… I didn’t think it would blow up. Nothing I do ever gets attention. Oh god, do you think he will see it?”
I tamp down the blinding rage. I know she’s talking about Vincent, and fuck it, let him see it and try some stupid shit. He’s still at the top of my list of people to kill. Actually kill, like murder. I’m not one of those “I will beat his ass for touching her” types that don’t really do anything. I have zero qualms about making sure that waste of space isn’t breathing.
“I don’t know, I would assume, but it’ll be okay. You know I’ll keep you safe.”
“Brooks,” she whines.
“Stevie, fuck around with me, and you’ll find out I’m not as agreeable as you think. I will keep your ass safe. Starting with making sure you lock your fucking doors.”
“Oh, and how are you going to do that? You going to come check every night?” she scoffs.
“Yeah, Peaches, every single fucking night. I hope you enjoyed those days off from me because we’re about to get real fucking close.”
“Perfect,” she moans into her pillow, and I stand to grab her medicine, some water, and her heating pad. Once I return, I give her the pills and water while plugging in the pad.
“You want me to rub your back?” I ask, watching her curl up in the fetal position. I don’t wait for a response because while I know she does, she will tell me no. Sitting on the pull-out mattress I absolutely detest, I lift her sweater slightly and start rubbing her lower back. She lets out little moans of probably both pain and relief as she slowly drifts off to sleep.
Once I know she’s fully asleep, I look around the small apartment and sigh. I can’t leave her alone here. What if something happens, and I’m not here to protect her? The anxiety that thought fills me with is nearly suffocating. With my mind made up, I take one of the couch pillows and place it between us so she can’t yell at me in the morning. Though she probably will anyway, and rest my head on the mattress.
I have no idea what I’m going to do. How do I keep her safe from the entire fucking internet? Even as I think that, I know my biggest fear isn’t everyone out there threatening her, it’s the ones who will try to make good on that threat. There’s only one option I have to make sure no one can get to her.
She’s going to have to be under my complete protection.
Stevie
