Just a Dare

Chapter Eleven

I went through the days leading up to the funerals in a daze, numb to the world around me. During that time, as the doctor had told me, Melody was allowed to go home-with strict instructions to relax so that she wouldn't exhaust herself, of course. Her injuries turned out to look a lot worse than they actually were and she was informed that she would be fully healed from them within a couple of weeks.

So, like the good friend that I had become for her, I volunteered to drive her home.

I was in the driver's seat of my truck, Mel buckled up in the passenger seat, when she asked the question I had been dreading since the morning that she opened her eyes after the accident.

Don't get me wrong, I had known that the subject would pop up sooner or later, but I had been leaning strongly toward the latter rather than the former.

"Have you heard anything else about the wreck?"

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I could feel her inquiring gaze on me. "Yeah," I replied, squinting in the early afternoon sunlight, which was slanted right into my eyes.

There was a short pause, during which I could see her twisting her fingers in her lap out of my peripheral vision. I glanced briefly over at her, catching the way that she was biting her lip before turning my attention back to the road. "You know who did it, then?"

My reply came out a tiny bit sharper than I intended it to. "Yes."

I saw her wince slightly, obviously stung a tiny bit by my tone, but she remained as obstinate as ever. "Who was it?"

I sighed and flipped my sun visor down, annoyed with the sunlight for blinding me while I was trying to drive. "Do we have to talk about this now?" I snapped, growing frustrated with her resoluteness.

"Yes, Trey, we do." Melody answered stubbornly, obviously not willing to drop the subject.

My knuckles turned white, my hold on the steering wheel had tightened so much, and I sucked in a sharp breath. I exhaled slowly, not daring to look away from the road. I didn't want to see her reaction to the information I was about to pass along to her. "It was Rob, Mel," I finally said.

We lapsed into a strained silence for a few minutes. The seconds inched by like hours-long, tedious hours that held the promise of pain.

"Is he okay?" She asked softly.

My eyes narrowed at the road, desperately trying to find refuge within myself so that I wouldn't have to face her; not now.

Because if it hadn't become painfully clear by now, it was that I was really only good at one thing: hurting people. And I knew that if she kept this up, I would end up doing it to her yet again.

"Just drop it." I said, an undertone of warning in my voice.

If you know what's good for you, you'll listen to me, Mel. My conscience whispered. I was losing myself and that was very dangerous, especially for innocent people around me like her.

"Trey." Her voice didn't hold any room for argument.

My self-restraint snapped.

I ground my teeth together and jerked the truck into the ditch and parked, ignoring her sharp yelp of surprise at the sudden jolting motion. I ripped my seat belt off, turning to tower over her and grabbed her tiny shoulders and gave her a rough shake. I was leaned over the console, my face inches from hers, so close that I could feel her soft, warm breath on my face, but I was so pissed off that I hardly paid attention to that.

I was just so angry-angry at myself because I could've stopped him that night, angry because I looked away for for one second and it resulted in Melody having to get surgery to stitch up a wound in her head because Luke's passenger seat airbag hadn't come out when it should have, angry because two people I cared about were soon to be buried ten feet under. I was just a huge ball of rage and inner turmoil and, unfortunately for the girl sitting in front of me, Melody was the closest thing I had that I could unleash it on.