After Curfew

Chapter 29 (Part One) - Changes

Chapter 29 (Part One) - Changes

The mood had changed. You could feel it. The same way you can feel the humidity on a hot summer day in Florida. It was this little coating of stickiness on your skin that—although seemingly trivial—was impossible to ignore.

As Slate and I walked out of the police station towards his car in silence, the unspoken knowledge that there was something going on and Slate did not know about it, became unignorably loud.

Jace had left with a friend a few minutes ago to go pick up his car from where he'd been arrested. I was beyond happy that he wasn't going back to prison but West's words had crushed my happiness before it even had the chance to make itself comfortable.

I'd been neglecting this problem for too damn long and tonight West's words had made that clear. I was scared now. I was scared like I was that night in the green room and I was scared the way I should've been since the start.

Slate and Jace may not have heard what West said to me but they'd seen the blood drain from my face and I had a feeling that was enough to raise suspicion.

Slate hadn't said a word since and although it was worrying, I also wasn't in the mood to explain—or rather—argue.

When we got to his car he opened the passenger door for me but kept his hand on it, leaving only a narrow passage between the door and his body for me to get in. Maybe he did it on purpose or maybe it was just a lucky coincidence for him but it was impossible for me to sit down without rubbing my ass against his crotch. I saw him smirk as he closed the door after me and knew it was the former.

He sat down in the drivers seat trying to suppress a laugh and I finally spoke up.

"You're real funny." I said punching his bicep, but he caught my hand in his and used the leverage to pull me towards him. Our faces were so close that when I blinked my eyelashes brushed against his and although I could tell his eyes were trying to find mine, I kept them focused on his lap.

I knew why he pulled me towards him, we weren't going to continue what we had started in the parking lot when we'd first gotten to the police station—it had been only half an hour ago but it was crazy how much had changed since then—he wanted to search my eyes for the answers I refused to give him. And maybe he would have gotten them if I'd looked up 5 seconds earlier but as much as I wanted to, I couldn't give them to him, so I practiced what daddy had taught me when I was just a little girl and I extinguished the fire in my eyes until they were dull and empty, before finally looking up at him.

"Can you take me back to the club?" My voice sounded flat and empty even to my own ears and a familiar numbness seemed to follow. It settled uncomfortably in my chest and I tried to swallow it down as Slate's eyes invaded what felt like every last crevice of mine, but unfortunately for him, they were as empty as the room I'd left behind at my parents' house.

It was easier to say I left then got kicked out but the truth floated around in the back of my mind, never too far way, always haunting me.

As if my question had only now registered in his head, his eyebrows furrowed together and his expression transformed into one of discontent.

"You're going back to the club? It's two in the morning and you look exhausted." I was exhausted. I've been exhausted. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept for more than two hours and it was taking a toll on me. I've always had trouble sleeping but it'd been getting worse since my parents kicked me out and the threats definitely weren't helping me sleep through the night. Not to mention that repetitive nightmare of me crashing and then crawling through the woods was showing up in my dreams more and more frequently and it sure as hell wasn't improving my restless nights.