The Key
Dylan fell to the floor. He could barely believe it. Brandon Walsh had socked him, and socked him hard. He could already feel blood gushing from his nose. He layed there a moment seeing stars. As people were starting to gather around, he stood up defiantly. Brandon was still standing there. He grabbed for Brandon's neck collar and pushed him back into the lockers. He wanted to hit him back just as hard, but he couldn't. Maybe it was because he knew deep down he deserved to be punched. He knew what he had done to Brenda was wrong. Brandon had always loved and trusted him like a brother, but he had given that trust away. Still, he had once told Brandon "if he ever hit him again he wouldn't live to tell about it." Brandon had hit him once before. It was when the Walsh's had just moved to town and Brandon thought Dylan was moving in on his old Minneapolis girlfriend who came to visit. This was different though. Dylan couldn't hit him back as much as he wanted to.
"Brandon you need some help here." Dylan knew that voice. It was the voice of Steve Sanders West Beverly's resident pain in the ass joining the crowd forming around them.
"No, no help," Dylan grunted. Letting go of Brandon's collar he gave him a push back into the lockers and walked away.
There were little droplets of blood dropping on the hallway of West Beverly from his nose. Before he could make a bigger scene he hightailed it into the bathroom to get some tissues. His nose he could tell wasn't broken but it was bleeding. In the bathroom he looked himself in the mirror wondering what the hell to do. Brandon didn't want to hear about his sister, and Brenda obviously wasn't going to talk to him. He splashed some cold water on his face trying to get a grasp on things. Maybe he should just let it all go. He knew from his own experience as a drunk you couldn't save people who didn't want to be saved.
The bell for next period rang and Dylan left the bathroom. He knew that fucking fight would be all over school already. Sticking around for the gossip today was looking less and less likely. As he was heading out to the parking lot he saw something. It was Brenda. She was standing by her locker laughing with Jefferson. And boy was she standing. Brenda had on an outfit that made his hair stand up even higher on his head. She wore these sexy boots, and the shortest skirt he'd even seen. Her hair was up and she looked like a movie star. Dylan's breath was taken away. He had never seen Brenda dressed like this. It was totally hot, but totally inappropriate. Seeing her standing there with Jefferson made his skin burn.
They turned from his locker now and saw him standing. He couldn't read Brenda's eyes. She looked surprised but her eyes stayed indifferent. Like they were seeing him but not really. It was like he was looking into someone else's eyes. It made his stomach drop.
"Hey McKay, looks like you got a owie there," Jefferson cracked referring to his nose, as he wrapped his arm around Brenda.
Brenda responded by laughing, and whispering something in Jefferson's ear. Jefferson burst out laughing and then they rounded the corner away from him. Brenda didn't even turn around to look at him again.
Dylan was shocked. That was not the Brenda he knew and loved. She wasn't right. Something was very wrong. He wanted to go after them and beat Jefferson's brains out. He wanted to pull Brenda away from him but he couldn't. Brandon was right, it was none of his business.
Dylan tried to tell himself this as he hopped into his Porsche without opening the door. He was going to just go home, but then he saw her in his head again in that outfit. Damn that outfit. He could imagine bending her over in it, and having his way with her but he didn't want to see her like that. Like some kind of dead eyed girl walking around West Beverly like a call girl. Not his Brenda. What he needed right now was proof.
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Dylan turned the key around in hands, wondering if he should really do it. Should he break into the Walsh House.
Dylan had a key. It was a key Brenda had given him when Dylan had stayed with the Walsh's after breaking his ribs in a surfing accident, right after his father had been arrested. The Walsh's had made him a key so he could come and go as he pleased while he was staying and recuperating from his troubles. Jim and Cindy had seemed to forget to get it back from him, so Brenda told him to keep it. Jim and Cindy didn't know but Brenda had told him to use it before. He used to use it once in awhile late at night, when he wanted to see her, and her folks would be asleep. Brenda would tell him to come over late. He'd come up to her room and they would go at it for hours making love. They had to be quiet, and they never got caught. A few times he had even jumped out the window of her room to leave quietly and not wake up Jim and Cindy, or Brandon. It wasn't that far a jump. "Their key" they called it. He used to walk into her room and she'd be waiting for him. He would feel her body under the covers, and they would both have to muffle the sounds of pleasure, the grunts and moans that could only escape from two people deeply in love, and in need. Those were the nights where the air smelled better and the world seemed to buzz with an electricity he never felt before. Those were the nights that had kept him alive. They were exciting, and real. He still loved her, more than before, because now he knew what life was like without her. If he knew she was in trouble, he couldn't just let her fall. She had never let him.
He had to get up to her room and find it. Find whatever it was Jefferson was giving her to make her eyes look like that. Maybe he was a mad man, but he didn't care. He was mad about her, and a love drunk fool. He had to help her, even if she hated him for it.
Jim's car was at work, and he didn't see Cindy's. Cindy was a stay at home mom, but she would run all kinds of errands during the day. Brandon, and Bren were obviously at school. It was now or never
He parked around the corner to hide his car and walked over to the house looking behind him every few steps. Hopefully the neighbors would not see him and get suspicious, but this was Beverly Hills, and people had to work during the day to afford this fucking place.
He walked up the steps to the front door, and put the key in the lock. Slowly he turned it, and it opened like a charm. Dylan was greeted to the site of Casa Walsh. His home away from- actually the only place that had ever felt like home to him. It still looked the same, but a little different maybe because he didn't feel welcome anymore, and knew he shouldn't be here. He took it in for a moment, but knew he had to hurry. He raced up the stairs to Brenda's room. Pushing her door open, he was inside, and his body went numb. Brenda had taken down all their photos together, and everything he had ever given her. Her room looked naked. It was like any little shred of a memory of him had been erased from existence. He had to take a few breaths. It hurt like hell to see her room like this.
Where were the photos, and all the things he had given her? Probably at the bottom of a landfill somewhere shred to pieces. He knew he deserved this.
Stuffing the hurt away, he had to regain his composure and remember what he was here for. He began to look. He went to her dresser, and starting opening drawers carefully, not to rattle things around, then he went to her dresser drawers, but nothing was turning up. He felt around her dresser, until his eyes fell on a little wooden jewelry box painted with flowers. He opened it carefully and that's when he saw it. It was the half-heart necklace he had given her last Christmas. He had wanted to give her something before he went to see his father in jail. Before he went over to the jail house to visit Jack, he needed Brenda's strength. She had loved the little necklace and been so excited when she opened it. He flash backed to the happy look in her eyes. He still had his half too back at the house. How had the necklace not been thrown out like all the other things. Maybe she had forgotten about it.
Next to the necklace though he saw what he had been looking for. It was about seven small white pills. He knew this wasn't aspirin. He didn't have to wonder where it came from. He would kill Jefferson. Quickly he dropped the pills in his pocket. He wasn't going to use them, he just needed to get them out of here, and away from her. From the look on her face earlier, and that outfit he already knew she was high as a kite. God, how he hated himself for doing this to her. He had destroyed her. This was what she had turned to.
Holding his head in his hands he had to sit down. The site of finding drugs in her room was crushing him. He knew he shouldn't sit down and mess up the sheets but he didn't care. He felt too shocked to move, all his fears confirmed. To the side of his eye, he caught sight of something. It was a slip she had left on the bed. He felt like a total creeper but he couldn't resist picking it up. It was silky, and soft in his hands. He actually brought it to his face, and breathed it in. God, it smelled like heaven. He almost wanted to cry like a bitch right there on her bed. He closed his eyes and it was like a dream.
The window is open, blowing the curtains and the smell of midnight jasmine around the room. She stands in front of him, as her dark hair sways softly in the wind. The moonlight sends a reflection across her silky purple slip. He reaches out to touch her. His hands want it off, but they just slide across the soft fabric.
"I miss you Bren..." he whispers.
"I really miss you,"she tells him back, and then she straddles him. Her legs wrapped around his body as he sits at the edge of her bed. His hands reach out, gripping her ass wrapped in the silk, then they slide up her bare thighs. Her hands push him back down onto the bed, and she is a goddess. Having her way with him, controlling him, and owning him. She starts unbuttoning his shirt and pants. As her body moves down his, she looks up at him with the look of pure desire, the look of love and lust. Her cascading hair leaves traces of heat across his body as her skin glows like a furnace. His body is hers for her to do as she wants, and he gives in, gives into her every want and her every need.
"Brenda..." he groans.
Dylan shakes himself out of his fantasy, and sets the slip down. He has to get out of here before he's caught and the Walsh's have him arrested.
He closes the jewelry box, and straightens out the drawers. Before he leaves, he takes one last longing look around her room, then down the stairs, and out the door he goes without a trace.
Author's note: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Dylan is such a bad boy! I could totally see him being slick like this to help Brenda. I will try to update as much as I can. Happy reading!
