As you all know, I'm in the process of writing When Our Worlds FILL IN THE BLANK! (She's still untitled...& I have no shame with admitting that) With that being said, I know everyone is super eager and excited and maybe a little bit fearful of what I will put you through, so I thought I'd give you a tiny present. Mind you, this is totally unedited. No bashing me for my poor editing skills, guys. I already know I'm no whiz in the editing department. (Good thing I have a kick ass editor to whip my poor, poor manuscripts into shape!) If she's reading this... Hello, my friend!
This is a small snippet, a sliver of a moment following Graham when he walks out of the hospital after seeing Kennedy. You all remember what happened, but here's where he went.
What did I just do?
The moment my face is hit with the chilled night air, I slam
my back against the foundation keeping the hospital on its feet. Without it,
Kennedy wouldn’t have a roof over her head and doctors and nurses to make her
feel safe.
You should be the one
making her feel safe.
I cup my head in my hands and yank at the ends of my hair.
The frustrated pull reminds me I’m still alive, although my heart may be
broken. You’re hearts broken? Ha! That’s
a joke. Her hearts broken, buddy, not yours. I let out a loud yell and
stand to my feet, drawing the attention to a few nurses on their smoke break.
The irony is not lost on me when I see health professionals sucking down thousands
of chemicals, but hey, it’s their body. Do with it what you may.
My legs feel heavy as they carry me into the parking lot. I
stop abruptly, realizing I’m stranded. I don’t have any means of escape. I turn
back to the hospital, a sheen of sweat on my brow, and I see Dan’s worried
expression as he searches for something. His eyes soften when they finally land
on my pathetic self. I know what he sees when he sees me; slouched shoulders,
red rimmed eyes. All the making of a broken heart, but how can I have a broken
heart, right? That’s what he’s thinking. It’s what everyone will think. I’m not
allowed to be sad when she’s gone through the most horrific experience of her
life.
Dan steps to me and I meet him half way. “Thought you might
need a way out of here.” Dan tosses his truck keys to me. I don’t say anything,
only a nod, and turn my back. “I overheard the cops saying they couldn’t find
Craig,” Dan whispers. I whip around and look to see if he’s saying what I think
he’s saying. “I’d come with you, but Violet needs me.” He shrugs then walks
back into the hospital without another word or an explanation.
Craig better hope and
pray you don’t find him.
I run to Dan’s truck and jump behind the steering wheel. The
engine roars to life along with my hatred and anger. The blood in my veins
pumps and pumps and pumps until I feel like my veins will rupture. With no
music for a distraction, I dream scenarios of what will happen when I find him.
Will he be alone or will he be hiding behind his rich father, who will more
than likely try to cover this up or defend his monster of a son until he is
blue in the face? You got to give it to the rich, they are loyal to their own.
My family being the exception. My dad would let them haul me out of the house
in handcuffs in a heartbeat, if only to be witness to it for his own sick
pleasure.
I drive through the near empty streets until I turn onto
Craig’s road. I slow the truck and turn the headlights off. A large pine tree
in the side yard blocks my view. I thrust the gear into park, and step out.
Deafening silence surrounds me as I creep up Craig’s side yard.
As if the world is working in my favor, Craig’s back is to
me. His movements are manic, throwing things around in his trunk. He must feel
my presence. His shoulders square and his spine stiffens through his black
t-shirt. Craig’s hands come up as if he’s surrendering to me, as if I’m only
here to handcuff him and take his ass downtown.
When he turns, there’s no smile on his lips. In fact, it isn’t
until I look into his eyes when I see his amusement.
“You sick fuck,” I yell, charging towards him, but I stop
before I even reach him. Why aren’t my
legs moving?
Ha laughs, a sinister gleam in his eyes. “You’re such a pussy, Graham. You came all this
way to, what, slap my hand and tuck me into bed?”
I shake my head at my own disbelief. Here’s your chance. Slam his head in the trunk. Curb stomp him until
his teeth come out of his nose. Do something. He destroyed the girl you love.
Fuck, it’s the least he deserves. The devil on my shoulder yells
instructions to me. Everything he shouts is what I had imagined doing. My
fingers clench into fists and then go slack when I remember the way Kennedy
looked in the hospital bed. She wouldn’t
want you to ruin your future. The angel on my shoulder whispers.
My breaths are heavy and my head pounds. “Why?” I mutter the question, resting my hands
on my knees, trying to gain better control. I can’t lose my cool in front of
Craig. He’ll use it against me.
“Why, what?” Craig sneers, turning back to his trunk. He
pulls out a black hooded sweatshirt and pulls it over his head before whipping
back around to face me. “What happened tonight had been Kennedy’s idea.”
“Oh, she asked you to attack her and then…” I can’t even
finish the sentence. Saying that
word, makes it too real. Look around, it
is real.
“Is that what she told you?” His eyebrow peaks. “Graham, she
threw herself at me after you insulted and embarrassed her into front of
everyone. She clearly is looking for attention.”
“If you honestly expect me to believe such bullshit, then
you are sicker than I thought.” I take the steps I need to be directly in front
of him. He’s trapped between the bumper and me, with nowhere to go.
“Does she moan like she did for me when you’re inside her?” One
sentence is all it takes to forget about my future and anything past this moment. I see red as I rear back my clenched fist and drill him in the
face, several times. My body is lifted from the pile of limbs we've become. A sense of satisfaction runs through me when I witness Craig’s cowering form. I sit on the cold ground, trying to gain back my
composure. My eyes peer up at an outstretched hand and a pair of the kindest eyes
that belong to one of the most loyal friends I’ll ever know. I hang my head and
my hands tremble from the adrenaline.
“I figured you might need some help,” Dan says, turning back
to Craig. He kicks him once in the stomach when he tries to stand, then turns back
around to help me to my feet.
When we hear the sirens in the distance, we both look down
to a bloody and bruised Craig. He whimpers and curses under his breath as he
tries to stand again, but Dan kicks him one last time, making him fall back to
the ground.
“Let’s get out of here. They’ll be here any minute,” Dan
suggests, running towards his truck. I have no choice, but to follow him.
When we are finally on the road and out of sight of Craig’s
house, I turn to Dan. “You take a cab to save me from landing in prison?”
“No,” he says. “I took a cab to be your prison mate.” He shrugs as if it’s a no brainer. “You may be
in love with her, but she’s like a sister to me. I’d gladly stand next to you
on trial if it meant he got what was coming to him.”
I stare over at Dan. I admire his dedication to our
friendship and in no way will I ever be able to repay him. We both fall silent
as houses and businesses fly by our windows. I feel my anger and hatred boil
over the rims of my eyes. Rivers and lakes fall down my cheeks, with no end in
sight. Dan doesn’t pull over, he doesn’t speak a word, and that’s okay. His
hand rests on my shoulder letting me know I’m not alone, even when I feel like
I’ve lost everything.
Again, thank you a hundred times over for your unrelenting support. It means everything to me to have readers who have invested as much emotion as me into Graham and Kennedy's story. There story may not be easy or typical, but it's real and frustrating. If it wasn't, we'd have nothing to root for.
Love,
Lindsey
