“No, he can’t,” I interjected again, “but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Colethinkshe can. It’s in his head that he can. He’s convinced himself of it.”
“So who cares what’s in that asshole’s thick head?” asked Carter. “Do you?”
“What? Care?”
“About him, yeah.”
“Fuck no!” I snarled. “I can’t believe you’d even think that! But I do care about what he’s going todo.”
“Which is?”
I sighed and sank back to the bed, my mind spinning with memories that had me feeling sick and dizzy. I had to make them understand.
“When we were going out the first time, Cole thought he owned me,” I said. “Any boy who even talked to me found all sorts of things going wrong with his life. They got fired from jobs, or kicked off the teams they were on. He broke into lockers between classes. Tracked down secrets, and blackmailed people.”
“This is all teenage baby bullshit,” Carter smiled. “You were in high school, right?”
“You don’t understand,” I countered. “Cole was a lot of things before he even got into MMA, and all of them involved using his brain. He was a rare combination of being a genius, but also being resourceful, which led to some real mad scientist type shit. And he was deathly patient. Patient to the point of it being creepy.”
“How creepy?”
“Once, he hid in someone’s back yard for five hours. Just so he could paint an ‘X’ on his dog.”
“Fuck,” swore Carter. I nodded my agreement.
“All the more reason we need to get you out of here,” said Bodie, glancing around. “You’re safer with us.”
“But—”
“Look, he already suspects we’ve been protecting you at the very least,” noted Carter. “So the cat’s sort of out of the bag, right?”
“I—I guess so.”
“Right,” he smiled. “So the way I see it, we can do this one of two ways. Either we take turns staying here with you, in this weirdly-decorated apartment…”
I looked around, and another shiver ran through me. Obviously, it was no choice at all.
“…or you just come to our place,” Carter finished, “where we shower you with protection and affection, while plying you with popcorn.”
He picked up the shirt I’d dropped, and handed it back to me.
“Microwave popcorn?” I asked hesitantly.
“Are you kidding?” Carter snorted. “What do we look like, barbarians? We have a professional popper. Irish gold butter. Six different kinds of seasoned salt.”
He slid a comforting hand to my shoulder. As warmth of his fingers began transferring to the back of my neck, I felt my whole body relax.
“Alright,” I smiled back at him gratefully. “But this is only temporary.”
“Only temporary,” he put his hands up, innocently.
“I’m serious,” I reiterated. “I don’t even want him to know where you boys live. Because if he did…”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I made one last round of my apartment, plucking up various things I’d need to survive in the king of all bachelor pads that surely awaited me. Aside from a strangely-attractive new shower curtain that I decided could stay, the bathroom was something Cole hadn’t really touched. My makeup, toothbrush, deodorant — all those comfy things were still here. I tucked theminto the overnight bag, and before long we were back outside; my apartment safely — or not so safely — locked up.
As we made our way to the curb I paused; to look back at the door. Strangely, I found myself wondering if I’d ever see the inside of the place again. The little apartment had been the first real home that was all mine. I’d found it, quite proudly, all by myself.
