Accused: A Retaliation Novel #2

In matters of crime and justice, innocent means you were never accused.

Prologue

Brandon gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove through the Atlanta suburb. Jacinda, a fellow Harris High School student and nerdy 11th grader, rode shotgun. She talked the entire way to his house.

Thank God it's only a 20-minute ride, Brandon thought.

I can't believe you like me, too. I was really nervous about approaching you, she spoke quickly, her words ran into each other.

Brandon, a popular senior athlete, convinced the school counselor to give him early work release even though he didn't have a job. He persuaded the basketball coach to allow for his early release as well. The star of the basketball team received many perks.

Brandon gazed into the mirror and smoothed his eyebrows. His gray eyes were as icy as ever. With a stare, he looked through people.

He forced himself to not laugh in the girl's face as she rambled on about the possibility of them being in a relationship.

He glanced at her. Plain. No makeup. Excited. Gullible. Unsuspecting. Perfect.

Their eyes connected, and he smiled that smile. His smile said, You'll do what I want you to do. His smile said, I care about you, but on the inside he didn't. Brandon never cared. It was his same smile that convinced Jacinda to cut class and come home with him.

In the early afternoon, the neighborhood was quiet. Brandon's mother, a wealthy widow, was not home, and the cook wasn't scheduled for another three hours.

He parked his two-seater sports car in the driveway and stepped out. Jacinda followed clumsily, tripping twice as they approached the front door. She rubbed on her gold butterfly chain as if it would free her from her awkwardness.

Are you gonna be okay? he asked. He stifled a chuckle at the thought of caring about her well-being.

Yeah, Jacinda said and shook her head. I'm nervous. This is sorta our first date.

Jacinda reached out and grabbed Brandon's hand. In the moment, Brandon's skin crawled.

I gotta open the door, Brandon said with a tone of regret. He pulled away his hand.

He opened the double front doors. The beautiful marble floor reflected the light from the huge window that was almost as high as the roof itself.

We're going to stop in the kitchen on the way to my room.

Your parents let you have girls in your room? Jacinda asked.

Well, my dad is dead. But, if my mother was here, she would. I have a TV in my room. We'll just watch TV, Brandon said, and he knew he lied through those perfectly straight white teeth.

****

Jacinda followed Brandon up to his bedroom. He carried two glasses and a bottle of soda.

I hope you like grape soda, Brandon said. Jacinda gasped when they entered his bedroom.

Your room is massive, she said.

I know, Brandon said and pointed to a couch for Jacinda to sit.

Brandon remembered convincing his mom to give him the master bedroom after his father died.

I'm the man of the house, so I should get the biggest room, he told her. Dad encouraged me to think big, to be commanding. I'm moving in to the master bedroom. You can take my room. If Dad were watching you deny me the big room, he'd be disappointed in you. He intimidated his mother with his cold stares and his hulking six-foot-four frame. And, his willingness to guilt-trip her over the untimely death of his father always devastated her.

****

Brandon carried the two glasses and the soda into his bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He had an assortment of illegal pills. There were pills that made a person unable to fight him off, pills that rendered a person unconscious, and pills that made a person unable to remember what had happened to them. As he thought about what he would do with Jacinda, he dropped two pills in her drink. She would not be able to fight him off and he'd be able to take pictures of her completely naked without her even knowing.

He walked into the room, smiling as broadly as ever. He took a sip from his soda.

Let the fun begin.

Chapter 1

Six months later, October

Georgia Atlantic University campus

Tashera sat in the large auditorium and remembered making the decision to break away from Washington, DC. It wasn't easy leaving her mother behind.

There were too many memories in the small DC apartment she shared with her mother. There were too many memories of her brother being killed and even reminders of everything leading up to the day Khalil was put in the ground.

The girls who jumped me, the girl who committed suicide, my mom's constant need to retaliate and seek revenge... Everything about staying in DC made me sad, she thought.

When Georgia Atlantic offered Ahmed a scholarship, he requested Tashera be allowed to join him as a sort of buddy scholarship program. Tashera had excellent grades, but it was a favor the athletic department did for Ahmed. Georgia Atlantic wanted to do anything to make Ahmed happy. Tashera was in love with Ahmed as Georgia Atlantic appeared to be.

Now, Tashera had to adjust to the big campus with over 25,000 students. She had to get comfortable being on a campus with so many different kinds of people. The campus was totally different from life in DC. And, she decided she'd learn how to protect herself from any and every kind of attack. She never again wanted to be anyone's victim.

****

Ahmed texted as he entered the building.

where are you?

He glanced down the hallway hoping to see Tashera. A group of girls walked toward him.

Hiiiii, Ahmed, they said in unison. Ahmed didn't respond. Droves of girls always spoke to him, flirted with him, and tried to get his attention. The Georgia Atlantic basketball gear, regular photos on the university website, photos in the school newspaper, and the television interviews gave Ahmed absolutely no anonymity.

Do you need someone to sit next to you in the auditorium? one girl asked.

Nah, I'm good, Ahmed said as he read the text from Tashera and headed in the opposite direction.

coming to get you, she texted.

Tashera walked up to Ahmed as another couple of girls readied to approach him. She reached for his hand and gave the hovering hoochies a dirty look. He kissed her on the forehead.

What's with all the groupies? Every day the list grows, Tashera said and elbowed Ahmed.

They're here to remind YOU not to step out of line, Ahmed said with a chuckle. 'Cause the harem awaits.

Ahmed took off running, and Tashera was fast on his heels.

They left the auditorium and blew past groups of students who watched them as they ran. Ahmed slowed when he reached an open patch of grass, and Tashera tackled him and giggled. She sat on top of him and rained playful blows to his torso.

Take it back. You better, Ahmed, Tashera said.

Ahmed laughed so hard tears fell from his eyes. He shifted his weight left and right as he tried to get Tashera off of him. The Georgia weather agreed with him. It was beginning to get cooler but still not cold like DC would already be around this time of year.

Tashera, I was playing. I don't want those girls.

Tashera rolled off of Ahmed and sat next to him. He put his arm around her shoulders.

Nobody is coming between me and you, he whispered in her ear.

Do you know him? Tashera asked and pointed to a light-skinned guy with gray eyes. He wore a baseball cap over a somewhat large head. He has on some basketball gear, and he's been staring at us.

Oh, that's Brandon. He's a freshman like us, Ahmed said.

Why is he staring? Why doesn't he come over here?

Dude is weird. Some guys on the team already call him the creep.

Tashera stood and tried— without success— to pull Ahmed to a standing position.

We need to go back to the auditorium, Tashera said.

What for? Ahmed asked. I have all the information I need on Georgia Atlantic.

Yeah, well, I'm lucky to be here, so I gotta go to everything asked of me. Come on. Show some boyfriend support.

Only if you go to the basketball party with me tonight.

Tashera nodded.

Ahmed rose and followed Tashera toward the building. As Ahmed glanced back over his shoulder, Brandon was still staring underneath his baseball cap, and he had not cracked a smile.

Chapter 2

Sixteen-year-old Zia Fontaine leaned against her boyfriend Nick's car. His oversized football jacket dwarfed her frame. The parking lot of Harris High School thinned out, but Nick was nowhere to be seen.

She re-examined her multi-colored manicure, readjusted her messy ponytail, and pulled her cell phone from the back pocket of her skinny jeans.

Zia texted to Nick.

what's taking you so long?

Zia and Nick were supposed to be going to their favorite pizza spot after school, but the buses had already left, and Nick had still not shown up in the parking lot.

Minutes passed and Nick still had not responded.

Zia texted to her best friend, Morgan Bingham.

come get me. I'm in the back parking lot.

Within a few moments, Morgan drove up in her car.

Hey girl, Morgan said. You ready to go?

Zia's phone vibrated.

Hold on, it's a text from Nick, Zia said.

i'm sorry, i'm breaking up with you.

I don't believe this, Zia said and showed Morgan her phone. I don't know if I should cry, go punch him in the face, or jump up for joy. He IS such a loser.

I have an idea, Morgan said.

What?

Make him jealous.

How?

The basketball team from Georgia Atlantic is coming here in a couple of days for our pep rally. Go out with one of those guys, and Nick will be hating.

You make it sound easy, Zia said.

Have you forgotten who you are? As homecoming queen and generally, everything-that's-good-at-Harris-High, you got this. Just make yourself available to meet with the team either before or after the pep rally.

Zia stood in the center of the empty parking lot..

As a matter a fact, I'm on the organizing committee for this event, I'll do everything, Morgan said. Zia jumped up and down.

What would I do without you? Zia asked and hugged Morgan. She took off Nick's jacket and threw it on the ground in front of Morgan's car.

Payback is a you-know-what, Zia said and pumped fists with Morgan. Let's roll.

Morgan sped off and drove all four car tires over Nick's jacket.

****

Brandon sat in his car in front of a Xi Rho fraternity house. They were hosting tonight's party. He opened his glove box. Brandon pulled out a royal blue pouch and poured the contents into the palm of his hand. A gold butterfly chain, a silver hoop earring, and a copper pinkie ring shaped into the word love fell out of the pouch.

He picked up the copper ring and mumbled, Disaster under his breath.

His mind flashed back to last year. At the beginning of the school year at Harris High something bad occurred. When his mom had gone away for the weekend, he had a party at his house.

The girl, Danielle, she was stupid, he thought.

They drank. They kissed and touched. Then, out of nowhere she said, Stop.

Brandon didn't know how to stop. He pulled her. He pushed her. With all of the tousling, he broke her arm.

Why didn't she freakin' cooperate? he thought. Nobody tells me no.

After the incident and after his mom had to pay the girl's family to keep the incident quiet, he found her ring on the floor of his bedroom. He considered it a gift. She was the first one. The first one he decided to take whether she wanted to or not. The lawyers told his mom that Brandon raped Danielle.

Rape.

The word doesn't fit in my vocabulary, Brandon thought. I just took her. People take things all the time.

Brandon put the trinkets back inside the pouch and put the pouch back in his glove compartment.

I want another gift tonight.

He sat in the car as people walked into the fraternity house. Fraternity houses on campus throw the best parties. And, look who's here. Brandon rolled his eyes.

The perfect couple, he said as Tashera and Ahmed entered the house.

I hate perfect.

He narrowed his eyes and exited his car.

Surely there's a girl in here for me, Brandon thought and walked inside the party.

****

Tashera and Ahmed danced. The music was loud. People stood shoulder to shoulder.

Tashera wore a fitted red top and skinny jeans and some motorcycle boots with a matching short leather jacket. She had her hair fixed in a ponytail on top of her head, with tendrils curled on both sides of her face.

I'm thirsty, Tashera said.

Ahmed grabbed her hand, and they headed toward the bar set up in the back of the house. Tashera reached into a cooler and snatched up a bottle of water. When she turned around, Brandon stood right behind her and Ahmed.

The creep again, she thought.

What's up, Ahmed? Brandon said and gave Ahmed a high-five. When you gonna introduce me to the pretty lady? He smiled at Tashera who turned away.

Oh, this is my girl, Tashera. Ahmed lifted up his hand that was holding hers. And, Tashera, this is Brandon.

Hi, Tashera said.

Brandon stared at Ahmed for a few moments.

Ahmed, I don't mean to stare, but I like your chain. Can I? Brandon asked as he reached out to touch Ahmed's chain.

Sure, Ahmed said.

Brandon lifted up the gold basketball on Ahmed's gold link chain.

I like this, Brandon said.

Yeah, me too. A gift from my girl, Ahmed said and hugged Tashera.

I've seen you two together around campus. Have you been together a long time? Brandon asked.

You could say that, Tashera said as she leaned into Ahmed.

What's good with you for tonight? Ahmed asked.

There's a girl I might be interested in, Brandon said and scanned the room. Here she is now. I'll catch up with you later.

Brandon walked away toward a petite Asian girl with dark black hair and a streak of fuchsia in the front. Her eye makeup matched the pinkish streak in her hair. She wore a schoolgirl uniform and platform boots.

He is weird. He wants to touch your chain? Tashera said. Your teammate is strange.

Yeah, but he has the athletic department wrapped around his finger, Ahmed said.

What do you mean?

He has us going to a pep rally at his old high school in a couple of days.

What? Tashera glanced up at Ahmed and searched where Brandon was in the room. She shook her head.

I've never heard of a bunch of college athletes going to a high school pep rally, Ahmed said.

No kidding. Tashera pulled Ahmed, and they walked closer to where Brandon had been talking to the girl.

I don't trust him, so watch your back around him, Tashera said.

What could go wrong at a pep rally? I'm sure I'll be okay, Ahmed said and they walked outside.

****

I'll get you something to drink and be right back, Brandon said to Kayla—the girl with the fuchsia-streaked hair. Kayla, a college freshman, nodded to the music and swayed her body from side to side.

Brandon went to the bar and grabbed Kayla a drink and surveyed the room. He reached deep into his pocket and pulled out one of his pills. He dropped it in her drink and walked over to her.

So, do you live close by? Brandon asked and handed Kayla the drink.

I stay in the Tubman dorm, Kayla said.

Brandon looked down at his phone. It'd be a few more minutes before the effects of the pill took over, he thought.

What's your major? Brandon asked.

Journalisssm, Kayla said; the pill and alcohol had taken its effect as her speech slurred.

Let's dance, Brandon said. Dancing will give me an opportunity to get close to her without raising anyone else's suspicion when she begins to get weak.

Brandon and Kayla began to dance. Kayla started to fall, but Brandon kept her on her feet.

I feel funny, Kayla said.

Funny? Sick? Brandon asked.

Yeah.

I can take you home if you want.

Okay. Take me to my dorm, Kayla said.

Brandon and Kayla walked outside with Kayla being held up mostly by Brandon.

My car isn't very far, Brandon said.

They walked until they reached Brandon's car. Brandon opened the door and put Kayla inside. He buckled her in. She wore a silver ring on her forefinger.

I can see a silver ring in my glove box tomorrow, Brandon thought.

Kayla