Carolina [h.s]

chapter eleven

***

Vada
//

The tears have dried on my face from the wind blowing around me.

I'm shaken up and silent. I don't know how to process the events of just minutes ago. My head feels empty. You would think I'd be having a full blown panic attack after all that happened.

But over time when you've lived through so many traumatic events it feels like nothing can ever shock you again. You kind of just become numb to everything.

So that's what I was. Numb, as we drove over the speed limit and I know he was nowhere near sober. But it didn't matter because technically speaking, I was more safe in this car than anywhere else.

So many questions ran through my mind but as I watched the silent boy shake with rage I knew it was best to keep my mouth shut for now. It all plays back in my head like a broken montage.

I clench my fists together. Sharp nails break skin on my palms and it's the only way I can calm down.

We drive for three hours in suffocating silence and by the end of it all I feel like I'm gonna explode. I block out the last few hours. I block out the whole night. It's the only thing I can do to keep myself from panicking.

Gravel sounds beneath us and I know we've made it home to the motel. Neon lights from the tall sign glow around us in the car as we come to a stop.

I let out a breath unmoving as the engine killed. The outside crickets sound and the low hum of the radio still plays.

"What the fuck were you thinking," his voice almost makes me flinch. It's low toned, angry, and way too calm.

"I—"

"Do you have any idea, how fucking badly that could have ended? Do you have any fucking idea what he could of done to you?" Dark green eyes are on me. Sunglasses pull back curls out of his face. I get a clear view of bruises and his glare.

I knew the car ride was calm before the storm. He was the storm. I was still shaking and when he notices he closes his eyes taking a breath.

"I.. I'm sorry"

I don't know what the fuck I'm apologizing for either, but I don't know what else to say. What does he want me to say?

His eyes open again and they're not any less clear. I wonder how messed up he is right now. I wonder how we even got home without him crashing.

"I told you this is what happens when you get caught up with me," his voice is too calm. "but you never fucking listen do you?"

I swallow down the sick feeling I still have in my stomach. "Who were those people, Harry?" I question and I know it's a slim chance.

Dark eyebrows furrow for a second then he leans back in his seat again resting his head against the back. A few more silent seconds pass as he lights up a cigarette and I risk asking again.

"How do you know them? How do they know you?"

"And what makes you think I have to answer anything you ask?"

There's a scoff in his words as smoke fills the air and I have to keep myself from opening the door to air it out.

"Hm, I don't know, maybe because I almost just got sold for sex trafficking, and you seem to be best fucking friends with the leader of it all—"

"He's not my fucking friend," He let's out a bitter laugh. "You've got it all wrong love, no you see" he leans in across the console, cigarette hanging from his mouth and eyes dark. "I wanna fucking kill him, especially after the shit he just pulled, but also because he ruined my fucking life." he practically seethes.