Unforgivable

Chapter 9

I followed him to the third hallway down, not looking back. As he walked ahead of me, he rubbed the top of his knuckles with his opposite hand.  I chewed at my bottom lip, trying hard to stop the tears that still escaped my eyes.

I watched his hand shake as he forced his key into the lock, struggling to push the old door open. He nudged me inside with his free hand, closing the door behind us.

His room wasn’t nearly what I expected, everything was tidy besides the pile of dishes still crowding the sink. His room had a faint smell of cigarette smoke, but in general the smell reminded me of laundry.

“Sorry,” he sighed, walking towards the sink, “it’s messy in here.”

I smiled through my frown, and I join him at the sink. I gently push his hands away from the sink, and turn off the water.

“It’s fine,” I spoke, my throat sore, “really. Can we just talk?”

His gaze dropped to his shoes, and he slowly nodded, taking a deep breath. He walked over to the couch in the side of the room. I sat after he did, my jeans rubbing against the old leather.

“What the hell was that,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the wall.

“I told you we needed to hurry,” he whispered back, as he turned to face me, “you know, before Nico saw us.”

“Who was he talking about?” I ask, our eyes meeting.

Booker sat in silence for a few seconds, before burying his head in his hands. I placed my hand on his knee after hearing a sob escape his breath.

“Sydney,” he began, sniffling quietly, “she wasn’t anyone important. We were ‘friends with benefits,’ you could say. Met her at the bar, and eventually she started coming home with me.”

I nodded my head in understanding, and my hand reached up to catch the tear that dropped off his chin. He looked up at me, his green eyes foggy with sadness.

“I left Laura at a party,” he continued, “we had sex at a house party, and I told her I would take her home. She was drunk and scared. A few of my friends and I went up into the attic; we watched her and laughed as she sat on the curb for hours, waiting for me to take her home.”

His eyes never left mine as he told the stories of these girls. His hand reached across the seat, and I let his fingers tangle in mine. It was wrong of me to let him, but in a way, it felt right?

“I felt horrible after leaving her there,” he sputtered between short breaths, “I drank. A lot. To clear my mind. I called Matt, and I told him what happened.”

I gripped his hand tighter against mine, and it seemed to calm him.

“He told the family,” Booker sighed, “his friends, too. Everyone. They hated me- they shunned me! So I moved in with the only thing that could supply me with enough to keep me alive and happy. The bar, Rhea, the one you found me at. Enough drinks to keep me sane.”

“Booker, I-”

“I tried to change, honestly. I’m still trying. I just want to be accepted again, you know? Into the family. Plus all of Matt’s friends hate me for doing that to the poor girl. They think I’m bad, everyone thinks I am.”

“S-stop,” I interrupted, placing my other hand on his thigh, “I don’t think you are.”

His eyes seemed to brighten, but his hand slipped from mine.

“Liar,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “y-you’re lying.”

I stare straight into his green eyes, and shake my head, assuring him I’m not.

“A bad person wouldn’t have stopped Nico from doing bad things to me,” I spoke softly.

“Could we not talk about Nico?” He asked, his expression unreadable.

“I want to know what he was trying to do to me.”

Booker’s lips formed a frown, and he reached up to tuck the same chunk of hair behind my ear. The feeling of his fingers against my ear sent shivers down my spine.

“Nico was at almost all of the parties I was at,” he mumbled, “he knew about all the girls I had messed with. He knew about Laura.”

I pursed my lips, listening closely.

“He thought-”

“That I was another one of those girls,” I finished.

“Yeah,” Booker breathed, taking my hand in his again, “he was also there the night that I touched you.”

A feeling of realization hit me like a storm. Nico’s words echoed in my head. Didn’t think I would remember you, huh, you little whore. My heart beat faster, and I looked out the window to try and get his voice out of my head.

“In the same room?” I asked, feeling my cheeks get hot in embarrassment.

“Yeah,” Booker replied, crossing his arms and slouching back into the couch, “he remembers you.”

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath, letting my hair fall over my face, “I-I was drunk, you...”

“I forced you to do bad things,” he spoke abruptly.

“Did you mean to?”

“At the time, yes, but I regret every second of it. I respect you, Rhea. I really do.”

I smile, and get up off the couch. I walked towards the door, stopping to look back at Booker before I placed my hand on the handle. His eyes were wide in confusion, and he stood up to follow me.

“Where are you going?” he asks, stepping in front of me to block the door.

“Home,” I reply, placing my hands on my hips, “there’s a bus stop near here, I saw it on the way.”

“Right,” he agreed, turning the handle and opening it. “If I were you, I’d stay. Nico’s still out there, probably lurking around the halls searching for you.”

Booker’s right, I don’t want to see Nico twice today, then again, I don’t want to see Nico again in my entire life. I didn’t want to stay. Or did I? I don’t want Matt getting the wrong ideas. Booker is dangerous, Matt’s voice repeated in my head.

“I’ll stay,” I announced, confused after letting the words slip from my mouth. Idiot! I hated the way I didn’t think things through.