Entry 7
It's been two days and I can still feel the phantom pain of those cuffs. He left me weary, and it was purposeful. I felt it in my chest every time I glanced in his direction yesterday (and today). Maybe I shouldn't have let him do whatever he wanted to me. What's done is done, but I hate this stain on my conscious. I haven't even tried to kiss him, and he doesn't care. It hurts, and I don't understand why he won't just...
I slam the pencil against the top of my drawer and close the notebook. All I ever do, as of late, is rant about him. I check my watch and sigh. I don't want to bother with the evening meeting, but apparently everyone is required to show up tonight. I get up slowly and start to head over. I assume Dallon is already there considering he didn't even bother to come back to the dorm. Sometimes I wish his absence would make me feel better, especially now.
When I walk into the room, I see nearly everyone gathered, and I just decide to sit in the back. I can't help staring at Ryan while he organizes the front desk. My fingers subtly brush against my wrists as watch him write something down. I chew the inside of my bottom lip, trying to sustain the memory. His eyes catch mine, and I can't help but look away in defeat. As soon as Josh and Tyler arrive, Ryan starts the meeting.
"We're here to discuss Dallon's upcoming job and whether or not he needs backup. Dallon." He looks to the taller man.
Dallon says, "One extra person will suffice."
"Brendon." Ryan says.
I feel an immediate knot in my stomach, "Hm?" is all I can get out.
"It's been awhile since you've had a job." He says to me before looking back at Dallon, "Split the profit fifty-fifty, it's time Brendon earns some money."
"Pardon me for questioning your judgments, Ryan, but I've been considering Frank-"
"Ten thousand. Splitting the profit wouldn't be necessary with Frank. You've been raking up enough cash lately, unless you plan on buying one hell of a new car."
"How I spend my money is personal." Dallon says.
The tension in the air is thick. Even though my nearly binding nerves, I can sense that this type of discourse rarely happens between them.
"Brendon earning some cash would severe the tie of reliability with his parents. You're taking him and splitting the profit. Have I made myself clear?" Ryan states.
"Yes." Dallon says. The tall man looks back to me with dead eyes and a slight frown.
The room is so quiet before Ryan says, "Brendon."
"I, uh, yeah. That sounds good."
He gives me a soft nod. I slump further back into my chair, now processing what's going to happen. Another kill. Fuck. My heart nearly races at the thought.
"When will this be carried out?" Ryan asks Dallon.
"Tomorrow."
I grip the edge of the table as my breath quickens. I fight my growing nerves as my chest proceeds to tighten. I count slowly in my head, 1-2-3...1-2-3.
"What time?" The brown haired boy asks.
"Nine on the dot." Dallon replies.
"Good." Ryan says, "You two can discuss further details amongst yourselves."
I look at Dallon again and he has the same bothered expression. I get out a quick nod of acknowledgement in his direction. Fuck, I should have asked Frank for Xanax, although I have a feeling it would be too suspicious. He might assume that in taking anti-anxiety meds, I'm someone too vulnerable who can break. Gerard would most likely catch on first, however, considering he looks into people. I have no idea how many blunts I'd have to hit to ease whatever trauma I'll endure tomorrow if it comes down to that. No... I know I can't go into this without something strong. Dallon is the one person I can't be too emotional in front of. Then I think about Josh and Tyler, the most "innocent" of the group. Tyler has a bunch of problems, maybe he has some sort of anti-anxiety meds.
I get up and walk over to them.
"Hey, guys."
They both greet me softly. They also seem a bit surprised that I'm taking the time to chat with them. Maybe they want me to leave them alone, who knows.
I lower my voice, "Do either of you have a Xanax I could pop for tomorrow? Just want to be on top of my game. I wasn't gifted with totally enjoying these things." I softly laugh.
"Oh yeah." Josh says, "I can relate to that. I'll give you my number, come by tomorrow after class."
"Awesome!" I say, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. Never thought I would be this thrilled for medication.

~~~

It's silent between Dallon and I for the first half of the day. And I didn't really care. I struggled pushing through a borderline panic attack all morning, but thankfully exhaustion kicked in by the afternoon. When the last class is out, I check my phone to make sure I have Josh's room number correct and start heading over to his dorm.
I stand in front of his room and knock. Josh opens the door not too long after.
Through a light smile, he says, "Come on in."
"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it." I say, as he opens a bag and takes out a bottle.
"There's a few left, I need to get more anyway." He says, before handing the whole thing to me.
"Awesome, thanks again." I smile. Then I say, "Don't mind if I take one here?"
"That's fine, I have a pack of water bottles in the fridge." He says, before walking over to a mini fridge and retrieving a water.
I open the bottle of pills hastily and take out one before screwing the cap back on and placing it in my pocket. I take the water from Josh and place the pill on the back of my tongue before washing it down.
"See ya later." I tell him. I add, "Tell Tyler I said hi!"
"Will do." Josh gives me a nod before I take my leave.

~~~

It's around 8 o'clock when Dallon comes back to the dorm.
I swallow hard, looking at him, "So tonight." I say.
"Yeah." He lets out a long breath, avoiding eye contact.
"What's the plan?" I ask.
"The plan is you do as I say and don't fuck up." He states in a nearly aggressive tone.
"Right." Is the last thing I say before it all goes silent again. This is so awkward, because all I can think about is what Gerard and Frank said. Every time I open my mouth, I risk just blabbing about it now. Thirty minutes go by and I just try to fill the time with doing work and then continuously getting distracted by the internet.
Dallon gets up, "We're heading out now."
"O-okay." I stutter. I shut my computer and grab my coat.
"We need to get weapons." He says, and I follow behind him as we get to the club door. He looks around before opening it and heading inside. As soon as I take one step in, he says, "Wait there."
So I do. I watch him open the door to the 'armory' and fill a medium sized duffel bag. I look back outside to see if anyone is around. There's about 2 or 3 wandering students, but no campus police. Me just waiting outside the door would probably seem suspicious. Dallon is quick, though, as he walks out with the bag of weapons. We then head to the parking garage and get to his car. I'm floored noticing the vehicle is nearly the same make and model as Ryan's. Once again, everything feels awkward. I sit uncomfortably in the passenger seat and we both stay silent. About 10 minutes in, I check my phone and notice a text from Ryan.
Come over after the job.
A warm feeling sits in my stomach, although I can't tell if it's good or bad. Resisting the memories of that first time... no amount of practice could keep some of the images away. I don't want this to be reminiscent, hell, it's not the same. Besides, our relationship has developed. He wouldn't... well. I reply:
Okay.
I close my eyes for a moment. No, it's not the same, but after recent events... things feel continuously unpredictable. I should be happy that he's offering to give me attention. I should want it. I should hope that he can make me feel better. My chest hurts, or maybe I'm forcing it to feel this way. The drug is starting to kick in.
We stop across the street near some hole in the wall diner. This whole area a town over gives me the creeps. Of course everything bad happens in a sketchy town. We get out of the car and Dallon hastily grabs the duffle bag from the back. We walk down the street a couple blocks before turning into a corner that's a little too dark for comfort. There's an eerie off yellow street light flickering as though it's about to turn off. I hate this, objectively speaking with the lack of nerves. Dallon shifts his direction, making a slight right and we end up near some dumpster.
"These men are smart. We take the weapons we need now, ditch the bag, come back for it if it starts going to hell." He says while taking out a silencer. I dig around and take out a shotgun.
"What are you doing?" Dallon says behind me.
"I just thought-"
"It's too early for a loud weapon, dumbass." He rips the gun from my hands and takes out a long blade instead.
Another close proximity kill, great. The near drowsiness is what worries me. I might slip up tonight. Could I hit a target decently even if I had a gun instead? Doesn't matter now. Hell, maybe this will be easier. The sound of an engine is heard, then silence. The taller man turns around and looks at me, "You're keeping watch and taking care of the perimeter, I got the rest."
He looks down at his watch before walking away and heading into the building. I place myself a couple feet from the door and look around. I fucking hope no one else shows up. Of course I keep forgetting how much the guy's head is worth, and that leaves me on edge just a bit. He probably has a bunch of men backing him up, and what, Dallon expects me to deal with all of that?
All of the sudden, I see someone walking around a corner. I quickly tuck away the blade within the inside pocket of my coat. A fucking conveniency that it's damn cold out, I wouldn't know how else to hide this thing. My brain works as quick as it can, and I decide to play it dumb and act oblivious to my surroundings. I let my eyes catch the man's as I comfortably lift my foot up to the back and have it sit against the wall. The soft waves of calm help me set up a cool demeanor.
"Who are you?" The man says. He's muscular and a few inches taller than me. His chest is puffed up as he holds a menacing glare.
"I'm..." I look to the ground and try to think. Nearly drawing a blank, I let out the phrase, "whoever you want me to be."
"What?" His hand reaches behind his back.
Quickly, I say, "Toss me a couple tens and I'll get down on my knees for you." I tilt my head slightly and lick my lips slowly.
He hesitantly retracts his hand from his pocket as his expression softens, "You're on the wrong side of town."
"And you look like you need some pressure eased." I lightly bring my pointer finger near my mouth, running it across my lips while smirking.
"Get out of here." The man says, in a rather nice tone.
"I'm desperate." I say, gripping at his belt loops, "Just a bit more cash and I can make it till the end of the month."
"Whoa, Marcus." Another man appears, "Who's this?" He doesn't hesitate taking out a gun.
Marcus, as I now know his name, says, "Don't waste a bullet, it's just some male prostitute."
"Sympathizing for a fucking fairy now?" He spits, still aiming the gun at me.
I begin to fake cry, ugly fake cry, yet try to keep my voice low, "Please don't hurt me, I just want to pay my rent."
"Jerry, let him go."
"What, you think the little bitch won't tell the cops?"
While they're both distracted with each other, I take out the blade and hastily sweep it across Marcus' throat. Blood spews across my face. If my heart could race, it would, as the familiar scent of the warm liquid attacks my nostrils. Jerry pulls back up his gun and I duck down before shooting my leg out. My foot harshly collides with his crotch and he drops the gun. He doubles over in pain and I get a decently clear view of his back.
Before I can ram the weapon into his skin, he grabs my leg and I fall to the floor. I nearly get the air knocked out of me because of the impact, but I keep a grip on the blade. I try to get up as fast as I can and swing carelessly in his direction, hoping I'll hit him. I get too close at the wrong time and he hits the inside of my elbow, making me drop the blade. My eyes grow wide as his hands harshly grasp my coat. He rams me into the adjacent wall, and fuck, that hurt.
"Mother fucker." He curses, "Was gonna kill you fast." He pulls me back just to shove me into the wall again. He then roughly flips me over, "You killed my partner." One hand is left on my back, keeping me to the wall. I can hear the sound of a belt being pulled out of its loops.
His uncomfortable breath is near my ear, "So I'm going to fuck you up first."
A dismal feeling piles up in my chest. He reaches around, trying to get at my belt. The forced whines from my act become a little more genuine as tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. I try to push back, move, anything. It's no use. Oh god, oh god.
"This is what your fucking faggot ass wants, don't it?" He says, tugging down my pants. I shut my eyes hard and prepare for the goddamn worst.
But then the weight is off of me. I stumble away from the wall and turn around. Jerry's dead eyes look into space with his pants to his knees and blood seeping from his skull. I look over and see Dallon slowly lowering his gun. I rush to get my own pants up and walk around Jerry's body to retrieve my knife.
Dallon says, "You're lucky I finished taking care of the boss in time."
So cold, yet unsurprising. I don't reply to that, and instead just say, "We calling the clean up crew or what?"
"I did call them, they're going to be late." He opens the door completely and says, "Pick a body, bring it inside."
I pick up the ankles of the one who didn't just try to sexually assault me and start pulling him inside the warehouse. He's heavy, yet it's manageable. The thought runs through my mind that I'm literally carrying dead weight. It would have been funny in any other scenario, presumably fictional, and if I wasn't involved.
As soon as Dallon gets inside with the other body, I say, "If they're going to be late, what are we going to do?"
He says, "Start their job to save them time."
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"We cut up the bodies."

A/N: Sorry for taking a billion years, I got preoccupied with doing some other stuff!! Part 2 should be coming soon bc I started writing it so!!! Quicker update for next time I swear!!