Only One Road – chapter 15

– XV –


I haven’t said a single word to him on the way back. I just pressed my forehead against the cold glass and stared outside for the whole time that took us to get home. When he pulled into his driveway, I opened the door, climbed out and found my car keys in one of my pockets.

“You are leaving?” Dylan asked with raw confusion on his voice.

“Yeah”, I said without looking at him. “I’m gonna go home.”

“Okay”, he said slowly. “So do you want me to follow you or something?”

“No”, I said shortly. “I have a bitch of a headache. Wanna be alone right now.”

“Okay”, he repeated as slowly as before. “Do you want me to call you tomorrow? Or come over?”

“I’ll call you”, I muttered. “I’m gonna go now, good night.”

He came closer to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He looked puzzled.

“Good night”, he said and leaned forward for a kiss.

I all but pushed him away.

“I can’t…” I muttered. “Dylan, I can’t, okay? I’m sorry but… I can’t even look at you right now… I gotta go…”

He looked like I just spat in his face. Then he nodded seriously, turned around and went inside the house without saying anything else. I got into my Jeep and took off so quickly as if someone was after me.


****


When I got home it was one in the morning. I realized that my shirt was covered in blood and I pulled it off so quickly as if it was burning me. At first I wanted to throw it away but then I shoved it into the washing machine instead, along with my jeans. I poured shitload of bleach in there and I could care less if it ruins the color or not. Then I put clean clothes on and while I was doing that, I realized that I had tears streaming down my face. I felt like breaking something. Instead I decided to get filthy drunk.

I stumbled into the kitchen, my hands shaking, and I rummaged through all the cabinets and cupboards. All I could find was a bottle of some old wine that wasn’t even half-full. Well, crap. I looked at the clock. One fifteen. They stop selling booze at two in the morning, I have enough time. I grabbed my car keys and went to the door. Right when I was opening it, the thunder clapped so loudly and unexpectedly that I dropped my keys. Then the rain came down with a fury that matched my own an hour ago. Was it an hour already? Christ…

I picked up my keys and absent mindedly patted the back pocket of my pants, checking for my wallet. It wasn’t there. I frowned for a second and then ran to the washing machine. I stopped it, pulled my soaked jeans out and went for the pocket, knowing that the wallet is probably ruined by now. Yeah, it would be if it was there which it wasn’t. I dropped the jeans back into the washer, closed the lid and went for my jacket.