Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
E L E V E N
The days that followed were quite a blur.
Jeffrey Hudson was no longer alive, causing chaos around making the streets a little safer for women. Harry, on the other hand, was thankfully found alive, but I couldn't quite say that he was fine.
The poor kid got abducted by a psychopath that tortured and almost killed his mother. Trauma and rebellion were bound to happen even when all the adults around him seemed oblivious to it. Still, May noticed some odd behaviors from him, according to the last text message she sent me this morning about her little brother.
Meanwhile, my sour mood has gotten worse as days passed to the point that I couldn't even stand myself. Everyone around me kept blaming the lack of sleep since we were rolling on a county emergency shift this past week, but I knew it wasn't just that.
My persisting irritation was also caused by the torturous thoughts in my head about Ian Moore. Despite not wanting to admit it, I needed to book an urgent appointment with my therapist soon before I decided to murder innocent people.
"Fuck me!" I groaned, putting another ice pack on the back of my neck as I tried to finish braiding my hair into a crown.
Even after getting out of a cold shower, I couldn't stand the feeling of the strands of my hair sticking to the nape of my neck. This heatwave was becoming more brutal with every day that passed.
I was more than grateful that the blackout was over, and so were our eternal shifts because that meant I could go home, relax in the tub and sleep in my comfortable bed while blasting the air conditioner.
Even though I love being a firefighter, if I had to spend another day here at the station with a thousand people in the heat, I was sure I would jump off the second floor.
"Uh— I don't think that's an appropriate thing to do at work."
Looking away from my reflection, I glared at Evan as he walked inside the common bathroom we all shared. Instead of staring back at me, unfazed by my deathly glares like he usually does, he looked away, looking somewhat embarrassed.
His eyes roamed around the room, avoiding looking over at me. I quickly noticed how the grip on his duffle bag tightened, his knuckles whitening.
Realizing the reason he looked away was that I was in jean shorts and a sports bra, I rolled my eyes and continued braiding my hair.
"Oh, you are shy now? You've seen more than this. Plus, if I'm not mistaken, I heard that you are back with your antics sleeping around with friends and stuff. Old habits die hard, huh?."
