Blood On Her Hands

Chapter 28

I carefully hung up Vincent's jacket on the hooks next to the front door. An empty bucket my uncle had probably been using for home repairs was within reach and I scooted it underneath the leather to catch the water that dripped from its sleeves. Kicking off my shoes, I gave a sniffle and then a sneeze. I didn't get very wet thanks to the jacket but I still felt chilled to the bone. In the place of the jacket was a frigid layer of goosebumps. 

My feet trudged up the steps loudly but no one came out of their rooms to greet me. The clock indicated it was only 4:37pm but my eyelids were heavy and so was my head. I laid down on my bed, telling myself I would only rest for a minute or two. Despite my intentions, I was dragged down into the depths of sleep immediately. 

I woke up to a banging on my bedroom door. I sat up, my temples throbbing. 

"Mickey, are you going to eat dinner or not?" Julio asked through the door. He was clearly losing his patience. He had probably been knocking for a while. 

My stomach growled at the mention of dinner but nothing sounded particularly appetizing. When the smell of fried chicken wafted up to my room, I almost gagged. It smelled too greasy and heavy. 

I didn't answer quickly enough for Julio. He opened my door without my permission, barging in with an annoyed scowl. He closed the door behind him once he saw me. 

His eyes were the size of planets. "How did you find my stash?" 

I blinked at him and wiped at the drool off the side of my mouth. 

I propped myself up on my arm and watched as he paced my floor in a panic. He was going back and forth so fast it made me dizzy. 

"Stash? You mean your drugs?" 

"Why would you take them? Why would you -?" 

"I didn't!" I said, anger jumping out of me so sharply it shocked me. I didn't realize I was mad but I was. I was suddenly mad enough to punch someone. "I think I have a cold." 

He continued to pace, ignoring everything I had said. He was speaking under his breath rather than addressing me anymore. 

"He's going to kill me."

He? 

Darren. He was talking about Darren. 

That's the name he said he had heard from some people at school. He thought Darren was the one supplying high schoolers with drugs. Did he think that Darren would hold him accountable if I became addicted? 

Wait. Did he seriously think Darren would do something like that? Deal drugs and then hurt Julio for letting his secret out? 

Rage pulsed through my veins, hot and anguished, desperate and dangerous. 

He had it wrong. I didn't care what the students at his school said. Darren wasn't involved in drug dealing - especially not after what happened with Adonis. I was so sick of all the accusations! I knew Darren. I knew Adonis. Everything they had been accused of - it wasn't them.  

"My boyfriend is not a dealer!" I screamed. This time, he didn't ignore me. Julio jumped back and stumbled into my closet doors. He pressed a finger to his lips and hushed me but I just started screaming louder. I felt like I was hovering above myself and the situation, completely detached and out of control.

I couldn't stop screaming. It felt too satisfying, too therapeutic. 

I watched it all like it was a movie playing in front of my eyes. 

My sister, aunt, and uncle all entered the room in search of the commotion. Julio put his arms up in the air like the FBI burst in, defending himself before they had made a single accusation.