Marked

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Chase

I could tell that all the traveling was putting a toll on her. I wanted to be home just as much as she does, but we don't have enough money left to just get plane tickets—even through it would get us home faster.

"Listen, Scar, I'd love to be home right now, but all we have is this car to get us there. If we travel two states a day—at least—we can be home within the week. I love you, you know I do, it'll just take a lot of time to get home. Understand?"

She nodded with a sniff. I bit my lip. "What are you going to do once we get back to our apartment?" I gave a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled back. "Shower in my own shower. Then, while I'm showering, you're going to make coffee just like always. After I get out of the shower, I'm going to have a cup of coffee. As we sit on the couch, watching Palm Springs through the window, we will be quiet. Because, Chase, I love you, but I'm kind of sick of your voice."

I smirked. "I agree."

"What are you going to do?"

"I will make coffee as you shower, I will sit with you on the couch, barely paying attention to Palm Springs, probably thinking more about the fact that I'm madly in love with you and that I won't want the moment to end."

Scar smiled more, her white eyes lighting up. "You'll do well in the confusing world of girls. Maybe even better than me, but then we'd have a problem."

I smiled. "Is that a compliment? The second part, I mean,"

She shrugged. "I guess... Just, stay a ladies' man, please."

"Stay a man's woman." I smiled at he and she took my hand. I put the back of her hand to my lips and kissed her hand. Scar leaned back in her seat and was again asleep.

I didn't know what to think about the fact that her nightmares are gone. Relived? I should feel happy for her, but still, somehow, I felt like something was off, like something with the dreams wasn't finished.

But I don't even know what to think now.

. . .

I checked us in to the motel as Scar slept in the car. I carefully carried her into the motel room, laying her down on the bed. She stirred a little after I set her down, but other than that, she didn't wake up.

I grabbed my cell phone and called my dad.

"Hello?" His deep voice sounded too much like mine on the phone.

"Uh, yeah, hey Dad, it's me... Chase..." Why do our conversations always start like this? "So, how are you and mom?"

"Who cares about us? I want to know about you? You talked to the president, like the president? Not just one of his guards."

"Yeah, our president is a real dick."

"That's why I didn't vote for him,"

"I couldn't vote for him. I wasn't eighteen at the time." I sat down at the table. "Listen, Dad, I'm coming back to California soon. Not Bernardino, but Palm Springs. Okay? I just... I don't know, Dad. Bye." I hung up before my dad could speak.

A rush of homesickness washed over me and before I knew it, I was curled up on the bed beside Scar, my throat raw and my breaths heavy.