Her Soldier (That Girl #3) by H. J. Bellus Page B

keys. Walking over to the manager’s office, I look at my car and know exactly who brought it home.
    “Hi, Al.” I step into the musty little office. Al is behind his desk, absorbed in whatever is on his computer screen.
    “Hey, girl.”
    Al and my Aunt Danielle went to high school together and are great friends. When I wanted to move out of Danielle’s, she said I only could if I moved into one of Al’s apartments. It made her feel better. Even though I still have a room at her house I frequent a couple times a month, it felt good to live out on my own. Until now.
    “Hey, Al. Have you let someone in my apartment lately?”
    “Now, kid, why would I do something like that?” Al moves from behind his computer desk and perches on the corner. It’s the only spot not covered in stacks of paper.
    “Um.” I fiddle with my key ring. “Don’t tell my aunt, but I think someone might have entered my apartment. I have all the keys now, but don’t trust this person.”
    “I’m on it. Your lock will be changed, kid, no worries.”
    I’m relieved Al didn’t make me give him any details. I thank him and leave his office feeling more satisfied with the situation. When I near my car, I notice the red writing covering my rear view mirror, and it’s the same that filled the mirror in my room.
    “That motherfucker.”
    Opening the door fast, I grab a sweatshirt from the back seat and begin to wash away the words:
     
    Die Whore!
     
    An awful smell hits me. At first I think I’m imagining the stench, but in the next inhale of air, it hits me. My car is saturated in piss. There are visible stains covering the light grey interior.
    Furiously, I dial my phone as quickly as possible and wait ring by ring. When he answers with his smug hello and slimy snicker, my stomach turns as so many emotions hit me at once, but in the end anger wins out.
    “Listen here, you fucker. You better stay away from me.”
    “Oh, yeah?” A loud ruckus fills the background on his end. “Or what, your new boyfriend gonna kick my ass?”
    “No, he won’t. If he gets his hands on you, he’ll kill you, Maxton. Come around me or my apartment again, and you’ll regret it.”
    “I don’t lie, Jenni, and I’ll make good on my promise.”
    “I’m not afraid of you anymore, Maxton. Stay the fuck away from me, or I’m calling the cops.”
    I hang up the phone before he can retaliate. He’s always loved to be the intimidating one, whether it be verbally or physically. I’m disgusted by the fact I let him hold me captive for so many months in that abusive relationship. He had me fooled—hell, brainwashed—so completely that I couldn’t do any better than him and actually deserved him. And to think I fought to save that relationship, arguing with Lynlee and Jazzy and even defending the motherfucker.
    My gut twists, and then the scent of his piss hits me hard, and I gag. The contents of my stomach swirl around even harder, and the next gag causes me to vomit. I’m able to make it to the hedge near the sidewalk. My phone rings, and I know it was a mistake to call Maxton. It was like opening the door and inviting Satan in. Using the back of my sleeve, I wipe across my mouth and look down at my phone. Beau’s name flashes across the screen. I scramble to answer it, and I lose control, sending it to the ground. Seizing it again, I answer.
    “Hello.” My voice comes out as a gurgled wail.
    “Jenni.”
    “Beau. Come get me. I need you. I’m so sorry.”
    “Jenni.” His voice is already full of concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
    He fires off so many questions, and it relaxes me. It’s the sound of his voice that calms me and comforts me. I sink to the grass and sit cross-legged.
    “I’m okay.” I wipe at my mouth again, gathering a few bits of vomit. “He’s been at my house.”
    “Motherfucker,” Beau roars into the phone. I hear the sound of his fist crashing into his dashboard.
    “He wasn’t here when I got home,