Dose 𝓣wo

Dose Two Observations:
Subject's withdrawal attempts prove ineffective.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

I stood stuck there for a few moments, contemplating my options from here.

Telling my mother wasn’t even close to a contemplation.

Right now wasn’t the time to hear that she was right.

I needed to immediately email Kara and tell her that I wouldn’t be taking this job.

Then I would have to figure out a fucking game plan.

At least I haven’t fully moved in, so I could find a more affordable place.

Then I need to start freelancing again while also job hunting.

But nothing entry-level will pay like this.

And you what—

I don’t want it to.

Not if it’s coming from the Leclairs.

Specifically, her.

I don’t need anything from her.

Maybe a fucking apology at the minimum, but it’s months too late.

I let out a deep sigh, realizing Zion was dragged into this as well.

They did this on purpose.

They involved him as some sort of emotional blackmail against me.

I know how this works.

Zion needs this job, though.

He was relying on this fucking pay boost.

It was meant to help with bills while Sarai finishes her master’s.

He might have to keep this job.

Fuck, but he can’t.

Not safely, at least.

Every person under Levane has no morals.

Zion won’t make it.

I let out a groan when my phone began vibrating with another call from Zion.

Then—

Knocks echoed against my front door, making Jynx perk up from her bed.

I childishly stomped my feet with a few more groans and a string of curse words, wanting to bang my head against the nearest wall.

“Coming,” I mumbled as Jynx swooped in by my side, ready to inspect whoever was at the door.

But just as expected, it was Zion and Sarai, in matching fall pajamas and green face masks painted on their faces.

This is the least surprising thing I’ve witnessed of them.

“You saw the company name?”

I pursed my lips distastefully, “Yep,” I mumbled as they walked into my apartment past me.

Sarai was quick to scoop up Jynx in her arms, walking over to the kitchen island that still had the roses and unopened packages.

“The flowers were from Leon, by the way,” I sarcastically added. “With a very kind letter too.”

Sarai’s eyes widened, while Zion just looked confused.

“So they did this on purpose? Mon—“

“Yes, we really don’t have to hash it out,” I promptly cut him short. “I’m not taking the fellowship.”

Zion’s face immediately dropped. “What? Libs, wait, but we were supposed to work together, and that’s the only thing keeping you here.”

“I’ll still stay—I’m just going to move somewhere more affordable, and do freelance work until I can find another job,” I determined, reaching for my wine glass. “But we both know I can’t take this fellowship, Zion.”

He was silent for a moment.

Then, with a sigh, he nodded reluctantly.

“Yeah,” he said, “That’s fucking disappointing.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumbled, taking a long sip of my wine.

“Come on, guys, there’s still some positives here,” Sarai said, gently scratching behind Jynx’s ear as she sprawled out across her arm, “Libs is back in Seattle. We’re all reunited. You just won’t be working together.”

I nodded in agreement, even if I really was looking forward to working with Zion.

“Exactly, we’ll make this new situation work. I’ll still see you guys every day—maybe I can even find a place nearby,” I suggested, earning a few nods from Sarai.

Zion managed to nod once, too, but I knew he was crushed.

Fuck them for waving this opportunity in front of us like that.

“I’m sorry this happened,” I suddenly said, realizing we were in this position because of me.

“No,” Zion said, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault, Libs. It sucks that this is happening.”

I let out a deep sigh. “It kind of is my fault—they did this because of me.”

“But you can’t control what they do,” Sarai emphasized, leaning over to set Jynx down.

“Yeah, besides, Sarai’s right. Now you’re in Seattle, so that’s all that matters,” he determined.

I forced a smile, “Yeah,” I whispered, furrowing my brows as I took another long sip of my wine.

Then I set the glass down with a clatter, grabbing my phone.

“I guess I should email Kara—the manager from Hell,” I mumbled, earning a few chuckles from Zion and Sarai.

“Yeah, and then maybe you can come down and stay with us? I know you wanted to be alone but—“

“That sounds great,” I suddenly cut her short.

I didn’t exactly want to be all alone tonight after this.

It dredged up the past whether I liked it or not.

And I definitely didn’t like it.

I hated it, actually.

“Great,” Sarai murmured with a smile. “We have leftover face masks, too,” she said as I focused on drafting up an email to Kara.

This time, I clicked on more details than just her name shown.

I clicked to read her actual email address.

karabriggs@levane.com

God, I’m so stupid.

It was right in front of me.

Why didn’t I check the email address?

My mother was right, I should’ve checked more details.

I just… I saw my university, and I thought I was good.

I thought everything would be fine.

“Okay,” I mumbled, glancing up from my phone. “How’s this? Hi Kara, I’ve recently had some second thoughts about this position. I don’t think I’ll be moving forward. I apologize for the inconvenience. Wish you the best,” I spoke, reading off my phone screen.

“That’s good,” Sarai said, while Zion nodded a few times.

I let out a deep sigh, my finger hovering over the send button.

A few beats passed—

And then I hit send.

Relief immediately flowed through me, setting my phone down with a soft clatter to grab the wine bottle.

Not my glass.

I need to chug as much wine as I fucking could right now.

Last I heard, she was taking over Levane.

I’m sure she knew about all of this.

She knows about everything.

It’s annoying, especially after what happened.

Also, the time that’s passed since then.

I just want to be left alone at this point.

And sure, the old version of me would’ve said that, but secretly wanted her attention.

Not this time.

I genuinely mean it when I say I’m choosing my peace over anything regarding her or her parents.

It’s not worth it after how fucking gruesome the healing process was.

“Damn,” Zion chuckled when I took another long sip from the wine bottle.

“Not even a day of being here and they manage to drag me into their shit,” I mumbled, lowering the bottle.

“Technically, you weren’t even here—and they dragged you into it,” Sarai added, now joking about the situation.

Humor felt like my best friend now.

Otherwise, I might lose my mind.

It’s just…

I made progress.

Progress that took time—months, specifically.

And now it feels like my progress is down the drain, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Now I would have to forget her from my mind all over again.

The thoughts, the memories, everything about her annoys me.

Yet, it all clings to my mind.

That night in her passenger seat, the view of the rainy city afar, and her fingers deep inside of me.

The soft caress of her short manicured nails against my cheekbone.

Even the warmth of her kiss, or the sweet smell of her Chapstick that would linger on my lips after we kissed.  

I used to welcome the memories.

They helped me ground me—they reminded me that she was once mine.

That it all happened, and it wasn’t just a dream.

But now…

Now it’s like having a song stuck in your head for days on end, and now, even the slightest beat of it irritates you.

“Zi,” I mumbled, setting the wine bottle down, “I need you to be careful at Levane.”

Zion only smiled, not understanding the weight of my words. “I will, Libs. Trust me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “These are the kind of people who erase your entire life if they’re dissatisfied with you. If you don’t serve their greater purpose,” I emphasized, wanting him to understand what he was getting himself into. “Don’t trust anyone. Never trust anyone.”

“Jesus,” Sarai chuckled with a smile.

But I could see the subtle panic behind her eyes—she could tell I was serious.

Right now was it.

If there was any right time, it was now.

I’ve kept that side of her hidden from them.

Even her parents, I’ve never uttered a word about what they’re truly capable of.

Especially not to Zion and Sarai.

“They’ve…” I trailed off, briefly pursing my lips together as I glanced away from them both entirely.

Then I grabbed my phone from the counter.

And theirs.

“Hey-hey, what are you doing?” Zion suddenly asked when I began powering off the three devices one by one.

“Making sure no one’s listening,” I determined, knowing someone had to still be watching me.

That’s how they sent out the fellowship.

It’s not a coincidence that it was on LinkedIn with all the perfect details to go along with it.

 Someone’s watching—that’s how they knew I would check.

That I would apply, even.

“Okay, you’re scaring me now,” Sarai said, furrowing her brows despite the green face mask drying on her skin.

“Libs, come on,” Zion said when I walked off toward the bathroom with our phones.

But I wasn’t taking any risks.

I set the phones on the counter, turning the faucet on to drown out any sound before I promptly shut the door.

“Stop playing,” I heard Zion say as I walked away from the bathroom.

“No one’s playing,” I said, my tone as serious as ever. “These are powerful people—they’re everywhere, even your phones. They have the fucking money and resources to have access to your phones.”  

Zion and Sarai didn’t say a word.

They just stared at me, finally taking me seriously.

“They’ve disappeared people,” I whispered, keeping my tone as low as possible.

God only knows what’s going on in this building.

A building that they had us move into.

“Disappeared?” Sarai emphasized the word I chose, not wanting to draw conclusions.

But fuck, was there only one conclusion to draw here.

“They’ve killed people,” I bluntly clarified, my stare not wavering from theirs. “Their kind of wealth is kill someone, cover it up, and get away with it.”

Zion drew in a deep breath, his jaw noticeably tightening.

“What the fuck, Liberty,” he breathed out, glancing away from us.

The use of my full name alone was enough to confirm that he understood the gravity of this situation.

“Fuck,” he said again, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash the green face mask off.

Sarai rapidly shook her head. “Wait, no-no,” was all she could get out, blinking a few times. “You-they, she—the Leclair’s. They’ve all killed someone?”

I knew what she was really asking.

Did she… my ex-girlfriend, kill someone.

“Yes,” I breathed out.

“This is messy as hell,” Zion determined as he grabbed a few paper towels. “We can’t get involved, Sarai.”

“No, I know-I know,” she whispered with wide eyes, still processing what I just told them.

It felt good.

It felt so fucking good to get it off my chest.

Finally, they’re clued in.

They were safer clueless, but I’m not letting Zion make this decision with Levane blindly.

“This is bad,” Sarai determined.

“Really fucking bad, Sarai,” Zion sighed, crumpling up the used paper towel before throwing it away. “Murder—they’ve murdered people.”

“Had them murdered,” I quickly corrected, like it mattered.

My correction was enough to earn a narrowed look from Zion, who was clearly not in the mood anymore.

“You-you never told us,” Sarai said with furrowed brows. “I mean, that’s a pretty big piece of information, Libs. Especially when we’re sitting in a room with—”

“I know,” I quickly cut her short, letting out a stressful sigh. “I know, okay.”

Zion suddenly sighed, reaching over to wrap his arm around my shoulders, “We would’ve been there for you.”

“I know,” I whispered, my face burning up with so much emotion.

I felt relieved and the urge to cry all at once.

I didn’t realize how heavy this was for me to carry.

The relief was so overwhelming that it made me want to cry.

Finally, someone reacts normally to all of this.

My mother was already accustomed, and I couldn't really tell anyone else.

Kaia sort of reacted, but she didn't even know the extent that they would go to.

“We’ll figure it out,” Sarai whispered, pursing her lips into a frown as she rounded the kitchen island toward the sink. “Zi, can go back to his other job.”

Zion nodded, hugging me tighter to his side. “They didn’t want me to leave. I still have time to go back.”

I let out a deep sigh, “Okay,” I mumbled, “I just-I wanted you to know exactly what you’re getting into. I couldn’t let you go in fucking blindly, you know?”

“I know, Libs,” Zion didn’t hesitate to say. “We got this now.”

His words were relieving to hear.

They made it easier to breathe.

“Now I see why you ran off to California,” Sarai mumbled as she turned on the kitchen sink, leaning over to clean off her face mask.

They understand.

They get why I did what I did.

It was no longer a mystery or a question.

My ex-girlfriend… she and her family have killed people.

I should’ve run the moment she told me she removes people.

I look back on that moment and feel so fucking stupid.

I was stupid not to acknowledge the red flags more.

It’s my fault that it even got to that point.

“I was crazy to be with her, right?” I whispered, trying not to let my throat close up.

But my eyes annoyingly blurred with tears whether I liked it or not.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking naïve—and I’ve done a lot of stupid shit, guys,” I forced out.

Zion pulled me even closer.

And then I felt Sarai’s arms around me too, wrapping us both in her embrace.

“You were in love,” Sarai whispered in my ear, making my unwanted tears grow worse.

A fire burned beneath my cheeks, spreading to the edges of my ears.

Were.

It was past tense.

As it belonged—or at least that’s what I told myself.

“Let’s go watch a movie,” Zion suddenly suggested, “I think we’re bumming Jynxie out.”

I glanced over to Jynx sitting upright on her circular bed.

The tilt of her small head made me chuckle weakly.

It genuinely felt like she was judging us.

She probably thinks we look crazy standing in the middle of the kitchen, group hugging while our phones sit in the bathroom with the sink running.

She’s probably wondering what the fuck is going on.  

“Yeah, let’s go watch a movie,” I murmured in agreement, pulling away from Zion and Sarai.

Then I walked over to Jynx, leaning down to scoop her into my arms, so we could head down to Zion and Sarai’s apartment.

Sarai headed over to the bathroom, grabbing our phones and turning off the sink.

The irony is that we would all be moving out come tomorrow.

But we have tonight, and that’s all that matters.

Once Zion sent Kara an email, we could all finally relax.

They had furniture unlike me, so I could sprawl out on an actual couch.

I was kind of amused by us both emailing Kara, though.

She’s probably going to be confused as hell tomorrow morning—it made me chuckle thinking about it, but I tried to focus on the movie.

We chose Halloweentown, even if August was just now coming to a close.

It was fun to watch, though, and Sarai got her cuddle time in with Jynx.

At least until she inched her way over to me, sprawling out across my chest and nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck.

It made me feel content again.

It’s always hard to share Jynx with anyone, honestly, but I try.

I really love how attached she is to me, though.

She’s the one consistent in my life.

It’s nights like these—the ones when I can unconsciously fall asleep, curled up with Jynx and the distant movie echoing in the background.

I cherish these moments.

I also cherish Zion and Sarai’s couch.

I’ve always had the best sleep on it.

The next morning, I unconsciously woke up at a little past six, fully rested and ready to start the day.

I grabbed my phone that Zion or Sarai must’ve put on the charger for me last night, briefly glancing over at them, cuddled up on the other end of the sectional.

Sometimes I forget that we’re a friend group.

They’re a couple, too, but they don’t usually rub it in or make me feel like a third wheel.

A smile grew on my face as I glanced away from them, unlocking my phone as Jynx snuggled closer into my side.

I furrowed my brows as I read through my notifications, immediately seeing a response email from Kara Briggs.

Hello Liberty,

Thank you for letting me know. However, when you submitted your application through LinkedIn, you also signed and agreed to the preliminary commitment terms. At this stage, you are already contractually obligated to move forward with this fellowship. Withdrawing is not possible under these conditions.

Best,
Kara Briggs

My heart was nearly pounding out of my chest, rereading the email over and over again, so I could fully process it.

But Kara had the nerve to attach the fucking documents that I signed at the time of applying for the fellowship.

She’s definitely a bitch.

She gives me bitchy vibes.

Fuck.

“Zion,” I suddenly spoke, glancing away from my phone.

But I swear they were both deep asleep.

“Zi,” I said again, reaching for a nearby pillow—

And throwing it at him.

He furrowed his brows immediately, stirring from his sleep.

“Zion, wake up,” I said a little louder, causing Sarai to shift in her sleep.

All I got from Zion was a tired hum.

“Kara answered guys,” I said, lying up from the couch even if I got a judgmental meow from Jynx. “We agreed to preliminary commitment terms when we submitted our application.”

“Pre what?” Zion mumbled tiredly.

“Preliminary—” I cut myself short, realizing neither of them were listening. “You know what, never mind,” I mumbled, standing from the couch. “Basically, we can’t get out of the fucking fellowship.”

It was almost instant.

Their eyes snapped open immediately, and finally, I got their attention.

“Wait,” Zion mumbled.

Then he groaned, rubbing his tired eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asked, sitting up from the couch.

Sarai was mute, but I knew that’s how she was in the mornings.

She’s still listening and soaking in everything I’m saying—I just probably won’t get a response for another thirty minutes.

“Kara emailed back,” I repeated myself yet again. “We agreed to some sort of preliminary commitment terms, which means we can’t back out at this point.”

I should’ve known better, honestly.

Of course, they had some sort of terms hidden in there.

There are always terms with them.

“So what’s the plan?” Zion asked, sliding past Sarai on the couch to stand up.

“There is no plan,” I determined.

Because what plan could we possibly have at this point?

Our signatures are on a fucking agreement.

There’s no way in hell we’re getting out of this.

“What?” Zion said with furrowed brows, walking over to me. “We can get lawyers. Good lawyers. Let’s just call Mama Maris.”

“And tell her she was right? I’m good,” I mumbled dryly. “Besides, any lawyer would tell us that this is airtight—I know they made the agreement airtight, Zi.”

As much as I would love to go to court and fight this until hell and back, we’ll never win this one.

And I’m sure the Leclairs could handle any judge and jury, knowing them.

Even if we didn’t sign the stupid agreement, somehow they’d manage to win the fucking case.

That’s how this works.

But if they want me there, then I’ll be there.

Just as their fucking nightmare, nothing less.

I’m tired of them tugging me back and forth like a rag doll.

“We’re doing the fellowship,” I determined, nodding once as I tried to keep my anger at bay. “They can have their fucking way.”

I’ll make sure I get mine by the end of it all.