Marked Secrets

16

Amelia

Fourteen days. Fourteen days came and went without seeing, hearing from, or even saying his name out loud.

That all ended on day fifteen while sitting on Blake's couch watching the news as the officials blabbed on about the vandalism, hollering that they would catch the person who was behind it.

Well, there I was. Sitting on the couch sipping an Arnold Palmer with Blake just chuckling at the stupidity of what I heard on the news. Blake side eyed me, smirking at my proud expression.

"They don't have enough brain cells to know that showing the images of what I did over and over on the news only spreads my message further," I cackled, taking another sip of my tea before capping it and placing it back on the coffee table where it originally sat.

Yes, Lawrence got into a bit of trouble when the security footage was nonexistent. Layla and I just stood back watching as the cops chewed him out, and he managed to weasel his way out of that conversation by promising he'd get a new one installed promptly. I felt better knowing the cops moved on from Lawrence Hardware, and I was not worried about the footage showing JP purchasing the gloves because that was not what they were looking for.

The trains never recorded anything, I was observant and always took note of my surroundings. There was not a camera in sight ever, unless it was hidden well. I chose not to explore that possibility, instead trying to move on and not worry so that I would not become anymore anxious than I already was.

I'd been working at the Hardware store a lot, pleased that it was taking up a good majority of my time which lessened the amount of spare time I had left to overthink. Besides that, doing well in my classes was a priority. I focused on trying to pass my finals, which I ended up doing and the semester then ended. Just when I began to feel human again, I opened my mouth to ask Blake a question.

"Have you hung out with JP at all?"

Blake stopped crunching the popcorn he was eating for a moment, turning to look at me for a moment. "No."

"Liar," I accused, pointing a finger at him.

There were days where I would walk into Blake's house to two Xbox controllers sitting on the table, or two cans of Coke. Sometimes when I would sit on the couch, the lingering scent of Jay-Parker's masculine cologne would still be there, and I always scolded myself for remembering his scent so vividly.

"Am not," Blake defended weakly, he was an awful liar whereas I was a good one. "And I don't think you should see him again. I agree with you. You can't risk it, Amel." he brushed his dainty fingers over where my tattoo rested on my upper arm, and I sighed.

It took me a couple days to finally show Blake my tattoo. On top of that I relived my traumatizing day with David my official, and Blake was irate by the time I finished speaking. He wondered how a man could be so vile and put his hand on someone who was mentally ill, a woman at that.

"Blake," I whispered, clutching his fingers and taking them off my arm. "I appreciate you thinking of me, but this is my life. You don't have a say in what I'm willing to risk."

What was I saying?

"Okay," he agreed softly.