Loser II || WlW

Sixteen

     I fold the letter from Zachary and stuff it in my bag. It's only one of the dozens he sent and I've read it so many times, it's nearly ingrained in my memory. Even from jail, he was trying to get in my head. Still trying to put the blame on Brittany. Kyle. Anyone but himself. Mostly Brittany though. I never figured out why. I never understood his obsession with her. Maybe he knows it would hurt me the worst if she betrayed me. Or maybe there's an ounce of truth in his words.

No. That can't be it.

Brittany would never lie to me.

God, I hate how Zachary gets in my head without even trying. This letter isn't even a blip on his radar. He probably doesn't even remember writing it and yet I'm still falling in a hole of doubt because of it.

Brittany sits on the bed next to me, kisses my cheek. "You ready for the shooting lesson?" She wipes the lipstick from my cheek with her thumb.

I force a half-smile and nod.

"Is something wrong?" Her eyebrows pull together.

"Just spinning," I motion to my head.

Her lips purse into a sexy smile. "I can take your mind off things for a while."

I pull her knuckles to my lips and kiss them. "We should take Ron's shooting course. It could save our lives."

She smiles but it's deflated and I understand why. This is the first time I've declined an opportunity to make love to her. But I know I wouldn't be able to keep myself from thinking about the letter. The accusations. No matter how mind-blowing the sex is, I wouldn't be able to stop wondering if there's more to Brittany's story than I thought. If I should have kept digging for answers instead of accepting everything that was told to me while Zachary rotted in a jail cell.

"J?"

I look at her, shaken from my thoughts. "Sorry... What were you saying?" When did she stand up and move to the window? My head is full of fog without my medication.

She's peering through the open blinds. "I was asking if you've seen that guy before?" she repeats as I move to my feet to get a better look.

"Ron said there'd be another group of campers. Some religious group or something." But as I squint to get a better look at the man, I realize he's familiar. It only takes one look at his curly beard that hangs down past his chest for the memories to come crashing down around me. "Oh my god. That's my mom's boyfriend," I tell her.

She searches my face for a reaction. "Do you trust him?"

I shake my head. "I don't really know him."

She sighs and looks out the window again but this time he's staring at us.

He waves and I half-wave back before I pull the drapes closed. "Actually," I swallow, "I don't trust anyone associated with my mom or my brother."

Brittany nods, still peeking around the blinds.

I pull my phone out and dial my mom again. The call goes through this time but ends at her voicemail.

Brittany squeezes my shoulder. "It's okay. I'm sure she's fine."

I nod and rub my eyes before we leave the comfort of the cabin and take the trek down to the field where Ron will show us all the mechanics of a handgun and a shotgun.

"Hey!" A short man with hair as dark as ink and a thick accent runs to catch up with us. "Brittany!" The man motions to me. "This is the wonderful Jordan you told me so much about."