Chapter 3: 03 - Drive me psych ward and strait jacket kind of crazy
This whole day had to be a product of one of two things. One was that I had hit my head, given myself
the mother of all concussions and was sedated somewhere dreaming all this up.
If I was, then I was really d a device that could tell whatatose patients were thinking hadn''t
been invented yet because if I ever woke up, I definitely wasn''t looking forward to exining to my
mom -or dad for that matter- why my subconscious chose to go -and take Olly- to an illegal fighting
arena or to have a boy break into my room.
I already knew what she''d say, that dreams are based off subconscious thoughts so that meant I was
thinking of doing those things. Then I''d be in big trouble. For something that didn''t even truly happen.
The other, much scarier, option was that the universe was out to get me, to drive me psych-ward-and-
straitjacket kind of crazy.
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I really wanted to believe I was in aa somewhere, fighting for my life. At least I''d get get-well-soon
flowers -and chocte hopefully- but more than, none of this would be real. I really really wanted to
believe that but I knew if I had dreamt everything up, then I wouldn''t have actually cried.
I had a pretty active imagination but it was still my imagination. It couldn''t actually make me cry. Not to
mention the things happening around me didn''t have that surreal dreamlike quality. It felt very real,
especially the part where I was yelled at. That was more than real which could only mean one thing.
The universe was out to get me. Karma had finally decided to show up. It was raining bad luck on me.
I sighed wearily. Today really isn''t my day.
After five long seconds of watching Masked Idiot repeatedly open and close his mouth like the
never get past this. He''d probably keep it up till morning.
"Why are you in my house? My room to be specific." I frowned, waving my index finger in a circr
motion directed at the ceiling. Why did it really have to be my room? "In case you didn''t know, you''re
trespassing and invading my privacy. Not to mention,mitting a felony."
Technically breaking and entering on it''s own wasn''t a felony but with my mom as the opposing
counsel''s attorney, it could very well be. He didn''t look all that bright so I felt the obligated to inform him,
just in case he didn''t know that everything about what he was doing in my house was illegal.
I mean the first time I saw him, he had a mask on. A mask in the middle of June. It was nowhere close
to Halloween.
"You''re one to talk," he scoffed, finally getting a hold of himself. His tone, the upward curl of his lips, the
condescending air that surrounded him had me stiffening, readying for a fight.
"The fuck do you mean by that?" I snapped, cringing a split secondter at my volume.
Shit!
I didn''t mean to be that loud. My eyes, wide with terror, shot to the door as I prayed that my voice
hadn''t reached my mom''s room.
After a few seconds of silence, I sighed in relief.
She didn''t hear, thank God.
Relief instantly turned to anger at the idiot lounging on my bed.
My eyes hardened to stone as I red at him. "Get out," I gritted. "Before I kill you, get out."
"Oh please," he chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"Do I look," I spat icily, venom coating my tone, "like I''m joking?"
I wanted him out and I wanted him out right that second.
He may not have believed in my ability to hurt him or maybe he was confident in his skills as a fighter
but the murderous intent in my eyes got through to him, enough to get him to change tactics at least.
"You barged into my life. You snuck into my reserved room."
It was all I could do not to p him and hope it would jumpstart his sleeping brain. "Snuck?" I hissed
incredulously. "I snuck?"
What did he think I was? A fan? For heaven''s sake, he wasn''t a celebrity. He was a criminal. A full
blooded criminal! And clearly not even a good one seeing as he got caught.
"I didn''t sneak," I growled, baring my teeth. "I did not sneak into your godforsaken room." My voice was
low, full of barely leashed anger.
It was like he actually wanted me to kill him with all the nonsense he was spouting.
What reason on God''s green earth would I have for ''sneaking'' into his room? I didn''t know him. I wasn''t
even a fan of boxing and if not for Olly, I never would''ve stepped foot in that cursed ce.
"I identally found it. identally!" I hissed, folding my arms across my torso tightly to restrain the
irrational but understandable urge to wring his neck. "And I left all of ten secondster. I strongly
suggest you follow my precedent."
My words visibly threw him for some reason.
"Do you not know who I am?" he inquired in a tone that made it clear this little nugget was mind
boggling to him.
"And who exactly do you think you are?" My eyes narrowed to slits, viciousness oozing from my pores.
A casual observer would''ve thought I was the criminal between the two of us in that moment.
"ck Stripe," he answered, eyeing me warily.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me? ck stripe? Is that your name?" I asked, thrown off by
the two words that seemingly had no rtion to the subject of discussion. I found myself seriously
considering whether or not he trulycked working brain cells. "Great. You couldn''t get any more
cliched if you tried," I added under my breath.
I was now ny percent sure he barely managed to graduate high school. ck Stripe? Really? Who
gives themselves such a stupid name?
"So you don''t know?" he rified, astonished.
"I don''t know what a ck stripe has to do with anything here," I answered, carefully eyeing him for any
signs of a psychotic break. Especially since he didn''t outright admit to it being his name or what
relevance it had to the conversation.
Thest thing I needed was for him to be crazy on top of everything. Not to be dramatic but I''d end up
screaming out of frustration.
"I have a better question for you. Why the hell did youe here and how the fuck did you find me?" I
tried not to wince. Cursing wasn''t something I was used to but the situation, the whole day in fact,
called for it.
Polite words couldn''t properly epass how horrendous the day had been.
"You know who I am. My real identity. I couldn''t just let you leave," he replied, sounding more unsure of
his ridiculous statement with each passing moment.
He ought to be. I knew who he was? Who exactly did he think he was, besides a boy who''d clearly
watched one too many bad TV shows. I mean, ck Stripe? Really?
I couldn''t care less who he was. I met him at an illegal fighting arena, that was more than enough for
me to never want to speak of it or see him again and yet, here he was trying to make sure I didn''t. Like
I needed the reminder. Who exactly was I going to tell? My mom, who''d kill me? Or my dad, the sheriff
who''d be obligated to throw me in jail or have me give him directions to the arena so he could organize
a bust, after skinning me alive first, of course. I wasn''t about to paint a target like that on my back.
Unlike Masked Idiot, I wasn''t stupid.
"Look around, stupid!" I sniped, gesturing to my study table filled with collegiate level textbooks and
SAT prep material, my shelf of novels and academic trophies, the absoluteck of posters or any such
frivolities in the room.
Before heid on it, my bed had been made, the edges crisply tucked in. My floor was spotless, the
polished wood practically gleaming. There was no doll in sight, no boyband posters, no paraphernalia
of any kind. Heck, the height of colour the room featured was my brown study table and floor.
There was not a single thing out of ce. The room was organized to the letter, even my pens were
lined up in straight evenly spaced rows on the study table.
"Now answer, do I honestly strike you as someone who gives a flying fuck about your little fighting
business?"
His eyes skimmed the room, understanding dawning.
Idiot.
"Just get out," I sighed wearily. I just wanted to crawl under myforter and sleep. "Leave. I don''t... I
need to rest. Just go."
It had been the longest of long days and I needed to rest. I needed it to be over. I needed him to not be
in my room, my house any longer.
He kept gaping at me like an actual confused fish and once again, I found myself doubting the
presence of an intellectually functioning brain in his skull.
"Go away. Shoo. Beat it. Scram. You have five seconds before I scream this ce down." He may not
have responded to reason but I was willing to bet he''d respond to threats. He was a criminal after all,
that was anguage he had to be well versed in. "My mother is a high powered attorney and my dad is
the sheriff. Choose wisely." I met his gaze squarely, radiating the impression that I wasn''t bluffing.
I was so bluffing. No way in hell was I involving my mother in this. I wasn''t so eager to be punished for
life. Fortunately, he didn''t know that.
His eyes narrowed conveying displeasure.
"Three seconds," I vocalized.
With a grunt of frustration, he was off my bed and out the window. I didn''t bother checking if he made
the jump. If he could sneak in then he''d better be able to sneak out on his own. If he died on the ground
by my window and my parents saw hime morning, I''d deny everything. Dead men tell no tales
after all.
Also, I''d resurrect him just to have the pleasure of killing the idiot myself.
Surprisingly, and also a testament to how unstable I was at the moment, I found that I was annoyed
that he left without fixing my bed.
With an irritated sigh, I went about that.
"So? You''ve taken care of it?" The tone was harsh but unsure.
"About that..." the masked boy hedged, looking everywhere but at the frowning man standing across
from him.
"What about it?" The voice hardened causing him to steel his spine and meet the man''s icy gaze.
"I''ve sort of taken care of it." The boy squirmed, wondering just how his life had gotten to this. He was
privileged kid from the right side of life for heaven''s sake. If only he hadn''t been so stupid to poke his
nose where it didn''t belong, he wouldn''t currently be entangled with what was probably the biggest
crime syndicate in the state.
He stifled a sigh.
No sign of crack show in the man''s appearance. Rather, it hardened further with every word that left the
boy''s mouth. "Sort of?" The man arched an eyebrow. His tone was velvety soft and full of unspoken
threats.
The boy flinched. "Itsplicated."
"I''m not asking for your rtionship status. The hell do you mean ''it''splicated''?"
The boy graciously took the jab, inclining his head as his lips turned down at the corners. "What exactly
was I supposed to do? In case you''re unaware, I don''t have mind wiping capabilities."
"In the first ce, you were not supposed to get caught!" the man bellowed.
"Yeah?" The boy smiled acidly as he carelessly sat down, throwing caution to the wind as he practically
goaded the man. "And whose fault is it that I was? Who left their post to go and almost blow the
mission by exposing themselves and leaving me vulnerable?"
"It was a risk I had to take," came the gruff reply.
"And it was so rewarding." Sarcasm overflowed from his words.
"At least tell me you put the fear of God in her," the man asked, sounding resigned. He preferred to
work alone. Not only had the higher ups ignored that, he was forced to work with a kid. A teenager. A
pampered rich kid who was used to be waited on, hand in foot by an army of servants. The kid even
had a butler for heaven''s sake.
"She doesn''t know," the boy said. A tinge of confused disbelief could be heard in his voice.
"Know what?" the man all but snapped.
"Who I am."
"Right because seeing your face wasn''t enough. You''d like to give her your name. How about your
address and entire dossier while you''re at it." Even an obtuse man could not have missed the sarcasm.
The boy rolled his eyes. "Not that. She doesn''t know about ck Stripe."
She had pretty much looked at him like he was insane when he indicated that she knew who he was.
To be honest, he got the feeling she wanted to clobber his head with a shoe or something much much
stronger.
He couldn''t get a read on her. If she was what she seemed to be -a straight A, squeaky clean, Ivy
league bound kid- then what was she doing at the arena anyway? And why hadn''t she called the cops
on him. He broke into her room. She was well within her rights to scream heaven down and call 911 but
instead she''d bargained with him like it was nothing. Like she had criminals breaking in every other day.
That was the part he couldn''t quite get. It was the one puzzle piece that wasn''t fitting in with the rest.
Her sé attitude was that of someone used to dealing with criminals. Only two types of people where
used to dealing with criminals; cops and other criminals. And she definitely wasn''t a cop.
The n had been to surprise her and cover her mouth before she could scream but when he showed
up, she wasn''t in her room. He got bored waiting and forgot he was meant to keep her from screaming.
It was a good thing she hadn''t but more than that, it was the reason he didn''t trust her. Not one bit. As
impressive as her reaction was, it just didn''t fit with the preppy straight ''A'' student persona. She even
counted down for him. She really was something.
He needed to keep an eye on her. There was more to her than she was letting on. He was sure of it.
"Yeah right." The man''s voice was full of skepticism.
"I''m serious," the boy countered.
"Sure," the man drawled condescendingly. "A girl goes to an illegal fight club to watch matches but
somehow is oblivious of the most popr fighter? Yeah, that makes perfect sense."
"I''m not joking. She has no clue."
"Or she is lying."
"I''ll obviously keep an eye on her for the mean time." The boy scowled.
"You had better. I''m not having two stupid teenagers ruin my mission."
"Spare me. It''s your own fault I had to be dragged onto this. If you had covered your bases that
would''ve never happened. And it''s your fault, again mind you, for leaving me unprotected while I
changed after a match."
"Zip it, Tiny Tim."
"You''re only a little bigger than me," the boy countered. ''A very little.''
"Shut up anyways," the man sniped. "And you had better take care of this or you can start making
preparations to visit daddy dearest in prison."+
"Don''t go there." His tone was far more vicious than a starving panther. A lesser man would''ve faltered
before it.
"Then make sure you take care of it," was all the man said, bringing their conversation to a close.