Diary of the Unbroken (BOOK #4)

Girl, Interrupted

Liv

            Nothing compared to riding ninety in a convertible.

            Adrenaline rushed through my veins. The wind through my hair. The car down the highway. No one else was out. The road was slick and wet after the spring rainfall. It was a Wednesday afternoon. I'd already skipped school, claiming I didn't feel well.

            Hanson continued to treat me like a cancer patient, which I couldn't really be too angry about. I was dying--there was no getting past that. But I hated how he insisted on coming with me on every endeavor. How he completely stopped conversation when I walked into a room.

            According to Derek, the blood bond made between Hanson and me possibly still existed. But I knew whatever Hanson felt for me stemmed far past that because I felt it too. For the first time, I had those warm and fuzzy feelings about someone. But I knew that in the end, he would live and I would die.

            We had no chance.

            My cell phone rang from the passenger seat, calling my attention. I just ignored it.

            Hanson was sure to give me hell later for not picking up his call, but there was no way in hell I was talking to him right now. I wanted time alone, something that seemed so hard to get lately.

            Ava, Chris, and I were practically shackled to the house or the side of every other vampire--and Derek--living there.  Ava due to her extreme emotional trauma after, you know, watching her mom die and her boyfriend leaving to go on some crazy, possibly live-ending expedition to search for the Original vampire who somehow knew her name. Chris because he was still this compelled, crazy human who couldn't keep track of his own shoes let alone his thoughts. And then there was me, still dying.

            A month had passed though, and I was still kicking it.

            Maybe even harder now more than ever.

            For the first time in the longest time, I felt alive.

            It wasn't like my human life where I just went through the motions every day. And it was like my short time as a vampire where I couldn't feel anything. For weeks I'd been scared of the graying hair and the wrinkles and the weakness in my knees. Now, I didn't feel any of it.    

            I felt free.

            I pulled into the driveway, Hanson already there waiting.

            "Before you go off on me," I started, climbing out the car, which by the way, was his new prized possession and welcomed distraction, really, "I want to say that I'm not sorry for going out, but I am sorry that I worried you."

            "You should be," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I called you six times."

            "I know. I was driving."

            He brushed a harsh hand through his hair. "Driving--"

            I held up my own, stopping his next words. "I'm not going to pass out behind the wheel or anything, Hanson. I'm not a walking hazard. I'm aging. Old people drive all the time. Just think of it like that."

            I tried sweeping past him, but he grabbed my wrist before I could get to far. He kept his grip light but urgent. I turned back to him recognizing that wild look in his eyes. It wasn't just the bond. It went far past that, so far that it set the familiar sinking feeling in my gut.