The Cinder

Diego {10}

She was gone.

I had done it. I had sent her away.

Relief. Relaxed. Reassured.

All those there were what I should've felt.

Instead I felt the worst.

Guilty. Pained. Remorseful.

The look in her eyes when she had slapped had destroyed me.

It had traumatized me with pain much more than her slap actually had.

The hurt, the distrust that had crossed her face was much worse than any attack the Brooke could've planned on me.

I had expected her to fight against it, make a chaos for wanting to stay.

But instead she had drunk up all the raging emotions inside her and slapped me calmly before turning her back to me.

She did what I had wanted her to do.

Then why was I feeling as if I had been wounded?

I had watched her leaving, the Saab going further until it diminished out of my view.

Since then, I had to look down in every few minutes at my chest or my gut to make sure I wasn't bleeding.

Because I felt like I was.

As if a huge gash was drawn across my body the moment she left me.

Correction, the moment I made her leave me.

Hours must have passed before I felt Brandon's hand over my collar.

He didn't say anything. Neither did Jared.

Perhaps they knew how badly I needed my own space.

What hurt me the most were her words just before parting.

I'm leaving you. And I am never coming back!

Fuck.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that would block the pain entering me.

I couldn't feel this... this helplessness anymore. I was growing tired of it.

There were more important things to be dealt with.

For example the fucker currently tied to a chair in my home at Sandy Springs.

We had left immediately after Rosanne's departure, with the exception of Brandon stopping by at his place for packing few of his clothes.

I had driven the whole way back while the other two kept a watch on Troy.

What should've been at least an eight hour drive was completed in six hours.

No stops were made, no need to rest, no need to go slow. This was not a leisurely road trip anymore.

I wanted answers and I wanted them yesterday.

No one asked me to switch. No one asked if I needed to rest.

Maybe they knew better than to let me sit idle.

Sitting freely would have led me to think of Rosanne. Not that my mind still didn't wander back to her in every fifty seconds.

Throughout the drive my insides were screaming at me to turn around, to go to the airport and drag her back. Make her stay with me.

Or better yet go to Barbados with her. Get away from all this and spend time lithely with her.

But I couldn't forget my brother. Delos was still there, trapped in my place. Being tormented instead of me.