Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the KittyTylz author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement intended. This story is written for the legally recognized adult population.
Dine and Dash
*~*~* Chapter Twelve - "Echoes of Demons" *~*~*
‘With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night.’ (Charles Dickens)
I
take a drag handing the cigarette to Rach, before dashing to her room. Quickly,
I pull on a pair of her boy shorts panties that still have a tag on and make a
mental note to buy her a pair while I pull them on under the dress.
When
I go back to the quaint-sized lounge, I grab the tequila bottle off the coffee
table while Rach pulls out a stash of weed from between the cushions. I don't
even ask cause I already know she swiped it from Paul.
I
hardly spend any time with the girls where it's just us, so I will not complain
about whatever we do. Usually we just randomly hang out, but it's always with
others - family, family friends or more commonly with the boys at whatever
shindig we're having.
Even
as a kid, I leaned more towards hanging out with the guys. I love the girls,
love them to bits, but the make-up, dress up scene wasn't really my thing. I
liked running around, getting dirty and having fun. As we grew, I started
seeing less of them. With them being older than me, they started dating and
going out partying with school friends before I did, then they graduated and
started working. Now the only times I see them alone are occasions like these,
because when it comes down to it, we're close. We're tighter than any of our
other girls because we've got history.
Hurt
one of us, hurt all of us. We grew up together, will be each other's
bridesmaids, and we're linked practically through blood, thanks to our loyalty
to the Grey Wolves.
~.~.~D&D~.~.~
I
don't know how many cigarettes we've worked through, but we've chained smoked
up a storm and by this point the first joints are starting to affect the girls.
It takes me a little while longer because I smoke cigarettes daily, and joints
are a go with me too if they're available. I usually handle it really well,
never pushing my limits. I hit just enough for that buzz to kick in. It also
helps that I'm chaperoned by the guys most of the time. But today is different.
I'm not sure why, but it's sinking in harder and faster and it makes no sense
because no more than 20 minutes pass before things don't feel good... they
feel great! And I'm not buzzed… I'm flying!
I
take the Lord-knows-what-number joint back from Leah and while I'm taking a
hit, I hear the door swing open. Rach and Leah start laughing up a storm
through the cloud of smoke I've just blown, cause I have serious talent with
that shit and I'm too gone inside my head to realize that if someone opened the
door, they most probably did it to come inside.
"Tell
me my eyes are shitting me," are the first words out Paul's mouth when he
walks in.
"They
work just fine, Lahote." Leah says lazily, stoned to slow delirium ages
ago, but she's still going.
Times
like these I forget they don't smoke as much as I do. Then I remember what
started my pretty little fucked up habit and giggle, quickly taking another
hit, envisioning Renee and how she looked in my dream as I was dying this
morning, looking at me like I was a stranger. Standing before me, but I was
unable to touch her. Talking to her, but not having the right words. Waking up
to a world I can't find her in, with nothing but a sense of coming danger
creeping up my spine as a reminder that it really happened. I smile like an
idiot and snort, feeling happy that I saw my mother, before large fingers
snatch my joint away from me and I'm distracted. I pout big and stare up,
seeing nothing but white, grey and shades in between them.
I
hear Paul's boisterous laughter fill the air, but I can no longer see through
the cloud of smoke in the room with my blurred, dazed vision. "Okay,"
he speaks to Leah. I see the tip of the joint glow a bright, pretty red as he
takes a hit somewhere in the room.
I
like being high. I giggle again. Things look friggin' pretty when I'm high.
"Oh
shit," Paul curses, "Leah bed, now. Sleep it off," he orders, a
second passes and there's a loud thump. I look to the floor at our feet where
Leah lies, already asleep.
Rach
and I look at her then each other, then laugh hysterically— A full on hyena
fit. Paul shakes his head, looking at us as he opens a window to let the smoke
out. Rach whines, telling him to leave it closed, cause it's cold and for some
reason this is funny too, because she and I are doubled over again.
I
hear him grumbling. Something about 'Christ' and 'leaving them alone two
seconds', which he says with a reprimanding tone and then I think, maybe he was
boxing today too, because he says something about 'hot' and 'boxing' and I
gather he must've been hot while he was boxing cause it's exercise and exercise
makes you feel hot. I switch trains. Italian boy looks hot boxing. Suddenly I
feel hot, so I grab a blanket and put it on Leah cause this makes sense to me.
Really it does. It's just what you do, you know? While I'm doing this though, I
think Rach only heard the 'boxing' part of her boyfriend's musings, because
suddenly she's beat boxing and I'm cheering wildly in slow motion, cause it's
the best thing I've ever heard.
I had no idea, Rach could beat box! Her
singing is terrible.
My
thinking must be too loud. Paul laughs loudly. I grab at my head painfully,
Rach stopped her beats. She's now opting to sing the Mariah Carey's version of
Without You to me. I stick two fingers in my mouth and whistle because it's
magical. It's the voice of a nightingale as she pulls those high notes.
I was mental that day! How dare I doubt her
skill! Rachie sings so well!
Paul
snickers, grabbing Rach's tequila bottle mic out her hand and downing some
himself, having the audacity to look like he's the one stressed! "No, she
doesn't," he says.
I
look at Paul with wonder, cause it's like, Whoa!
Dude! You're in my head!
He's
looking back with humor, "Or maybe," he drawls, grabbing the
remaining weed and stuff out our reach and keeping it a safe distance away from
us, "you're talking out loud." He ruffles my hair as he walks past.
Pfft. Don't be ridiculous.
I
answer in my head and wonder if Paul's doing his mind-reader thing again cause
he shakes his head and switches on the TV as Rach places her feet on my knees
and her head on his shoulder before passing out. It takes a couple of seconds,
but soon I'm out too.
~.~.~D&D~.~.~
Blink.
I
look up. Nope, it's still there.
I
blink again. Yupp, still not my ceiling.
I
shut my eyes tight and then open them wide. And that elephant's still sitting on my head.
I
wake up slowly and take in my surroundings, feeling a fuckton of relief fill me
when I understand where I am. It's Rach's room and Leah lies on the floor to my
right.
"We
put her on the bed, she just fell back down," Rach pokes her head out the
closet, throwing me a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, before digging through it
again. I stand up and push my legs through the jeans being careful to keep the
dress down so my gauzed thigh doesn't show. Pulling off the dress and folding
it neatly, I work on the shirt next. I've just got one arm and my neck through
when, "Aha!" she exclaims with joy like she found Jesus,
"Asprin!"
That sounds sacred to me too!
"Gimme!"
I stick out my hand at her.
"Hold
your horses!" She pops one in her mouth and tosses them to me.
I
grab her glass as I hop, skip and bolt
my way to the kitchen, filling it up with good ol' H2O and
swallowing. Screw you elephant!
Rach
walks in and dishes out a serving of spaghetti and meatballs for me and her. I
look at the silver pot and note that us girls have consumed almost the entire
contents.
I
sit on the kitchen floor and she does too, because walking 5 steps to the
lounge seems like too much work. It's nearing night now. We sit and scarf down
the contents, before either one of us speaks. "How'd we end up in the
room?" I ask through my last mouthful of glorious pasta, meat and sauce.
Rach
licks her fork clean before answering, "Paul dumped us there when we fell
asleep."
I
nod, cause I have no recollection of anything aside from faded snippets of what
seemed like awesomeness at the time and wanting to deck poor Paul for ruining
it. Though I now wanted to thank him for the very same thing. The elephant
trumpets in my head, signaling all the thinking is pissing him off and I wince.
"Where'd he go?"
"Seth
called. He left pretty quick after that," answers Rach as she pats her
flat but full belly.
"Fantastic,"
I whine as I wake up, gratefully feeling the effect of the food and aspirin
kicking in. "Next time Lee breaks up —"
"—
we're buying ice-cream and getting her a fucking movie," Rach completes my
thought.
"Word!"
We hear Leah yell from the room, before her soft snores ensue.
I'd
nod, but I don't want my head to fall off. The door opens and in walks two
idiots I will happily clock, if they don't drop their voices.
"Laughing
too loud," I moan and Rach groans, fitting her tiny body against the
fridge to cool down her throbbing head.
"Easy
squirt," Seth hollers from the doorway, then snorts at my grimace and
lowers his voice. "Wow, you weren't kidding."
Paul
sniggers, "Told ya."
"Whatever,"
Seth dismisses, "Come on, Bells," he calls.
"Oh
no," I groan, "I'm going nowhere. I wanna sleep for a week. At
least!"
"Quit
the bitching and moaning," he deadpans. Twit! "The Chief will blow a gasket if he see's you now. You
reek of pot."
"Oh,
shit. Is dad back?" I ask, suddenly worried.
"Yeah,
relax, Jake said you where done with the school shit so you're hanging at the
Res as usual," Paul answers coming back from the bedroom. He looks at
Rach, "how'd she end up on the floor again?" Referring to the third
musketeer.
Rach
shrugs, "Leah. She does these things."
Seth
grunts out through his nose and laughs, "you girls good?" he asks.
Rachel
nods, completely missing what he's referring to— their mental insobriety— and
instead, answers about what lead to our eventful day of mind-fuckery.
"Yep. That guy won't be calling her up again," she solemnly swears.
"The
fuck?" Seth's features darken, "what guy?"
I
wanna do a face plant then and there. And once the words catch up to her, so
does Rach.
"It's
nothing. Girl stuff. Down boy," I wave dismissively, knowing that if we
look cool then he'll dismiss this as just a guy who dated his sister, as
opposed to just some guy whose face needed breaking for messing with his
sister.
Seth
eyes us, unconvinced, "does 'girls stuff' have a name?" He folds his
arms, looking and meaning business.
"Seth,
seriously, let it go," I gripe, walking past him, shoving him lightly in
the chest as I go. "Dude she dated. Now she's not so into him," my
words are so flawless, I'm
almost convinced that there's nothing more to the story. Thank
God the guys weren't around the past few days.
Now
he seems to buy it. It's happened before. Actually it happens all the
time, even when there's no factory
fault with the guy. "'kay. Grab your shit and let's go," he bounces
on the balls of his feet.
"Why?"
I ask. It's a moot point cause I'm already waving goodbye to Rach and heading
out the door. She air kisses me and gestures that she'll drop my clothes of at
the house once she washes the stench out. I know she'll do it too, but I just
can't wait to have my dress back. I look at my phone and see no messages,
feeling dreadful. Was he okay? Where was he? We left things badly this morning,
what if he upset and just didn't want to talk to me?
Seth
shuts the door behind us before he answers my question. "Because we can't
take you to the Chief while you look like you hit every bar on the west coast
at happy hour." Exasperated, Seth rolls his eyes.
The
second we're outside the building I'm kind of happy I've got Rach's clothes on.
It's freezing and I'd be a popsicle when Edward got back if I wasn't wearing
jeans. "Dad?" I ask simply, I don't have to elaborate the question
cause Seth knows what I'm talking about.
I
pull on boyfriend's hoodie. It's plain black and unassuming so I know I'm good
to go around the Wolves. It's not like anyone's going to spontaneously guess
it's Edward's.
"Yeah,
your old man called Jakes ol' lady tryna find you, cause he's got some time off
this weekend or some shit like that. She told him about school yada yada,"
he waves his hand absently before him. It makes me wanna laugh, but I keep it
together because laughing seems like work right now with Mr. Elephant on my
head. "So he asked us to drop you back at his place if you finish up
early. Apparently he fell asleep on the receiver before the line cut," he
jokes lightly.
I
look at him and notice he looks like he could use some sleep too. Unaware of my
scrutiny, he smacks his lips together and fishes out his cigarettes, popping
one in his mouth. Letting the flaming end hang from his lips, he unlocks his
car, hidden in the dark alleyway behind Rach's building.
I
feel bad. Poor dad finally has some time off and I'm walking into walls.
Literally. "OW!" I bellow, clutching my nose.
"Jesus!"
Seth curses under his breath and grabs me quick before I face plant.
"Great. I can't take you home vertically challenged!" Concern coats
his face as he checks mine for any damage. Despite his reprimanding, being him,
he's still caught somewhere between frustration and amusement.
"Twit!"
I mutter.
"Love
you too, munchkin," he says heavy on the sarcasm as he helps me get into
the car without dying.
"Can
I just hang with you then?" I ask, leaning against the cool window.
He
winds down his window and lets in some of the cold air. It feels nice on my
face. Numbing. "Sure," he agrees easily, then he gets a toothy grin,
looking past me out the window and I wonder briefly if I'm about to be
tortured.
My
head starts hurting again because I'm making use of my brain, so I stop
wondering and just let it be. Hence me missing Paul's entry, and him being what
Seth was grinning craftily at.
"Whoa,"
I mumble to myself. This makes no sense. "I didn't drink that much.
There's just no way—" I snap my hands out in front of me to grab Seth's
soda, just as Paul dumps two boxes in the backseat. He leans behind my seat
with his body still out the car.
"Sure
there is," Paul disagrees, "well, let's see, Bells." he says
mockingly, lost in thought, "not only did you decide to drink yourself
stupid, but you chose Leah and Rachel to do it with." I groan,
acknowledging my idiocy, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. He's enjoying
this too much. So's Seth, he's not laughing, but that grin on his face tells me
he's merely biding time till the punch line. I dread the punch line.
Paul
doesn't disappoint. "But, no, you don't end up going through with that plan.
You push aside the booze. So you can blow some trees. Again with Leah and Rachel. My chick can't roll for
shit, I might add." He directs that little bit of info over my head to
Seth who I dare not look at. "What the hell was that? Chicks were smoking
weed and paper sandwiches?" I sink down further in my seat, remembering
Rach slamming her hand down on it in frustration when it wouldn't stick right.
"Really, brat," I pull on my hood so I can hide, it doesn't work well
cause it's stuck between my back and the seat, "you didn't have to drink
much. You didn't have to drink at all," He looks at me, grinning
wide, while Seth starts the engine, "cause you girls managed to accidently
hotbox yourselves. It's like I should hand you women medals."
"True
story," Seth quips, finally breaking his vow of silence.
The
last thing I hear is their belted out laughter, straight out the gut, before
Paul shuts the door and Seth burns rubber and we're speeding down the street,
leaving Paul walking back to Rach's.
"Jake
will never let me live it down," I whimper, because it's true.
"Aw,
lil'sis don't worry," Seth sympathizes, bumping his fist to my shoulder
affectionately, "neither will I."
He
sniggers and drives. I throw on my hood and die of shame.
Twit!
~.~.~D&D~.~.~
Next
time I open my eyes, its pitch black outside thanks to the storm clouds
gathering, and when I check the clock I see no significant amount of time has
passed, it's still early evening. Stifling a yawn, I turn to Seth illuminated
by the passing street lamps as we drive, he looks just like the kid I knew all
those years ago. Only now, he's weighted down and it makes him seem dark and
dangerous. Sometimes I wish I could get them their freedom too. Give them back
their innocence as repayment for how long they've guarded me and mine. They
were always hoping for a better life for me, while theirs wasn't guaranteed
more than one day at a time.
"Where
we goin?"
He
stifles a yawn too. He looks exhausted, but there's this wired vibe buzzing
through him that I'm used to, "meeting Jake down at Montesano."
I
do an internal squeal when I hear this. "Can I stay!"
"Well,
look who's mind managed to locate her again," he sniggers knowing exactly
why I'm suddenly so excited, "Smokez called. He's got some shit he wants
us to check out. When Paul said you passed out at Rach's, figured I'd pick your
ass up since you been so scarce lately," he lightheartedly accuses, like
the 5 year old I know him to be.
"Hey. You
disappeared." I remind him about their run down in South Bend, not wanting
to take all the blame and also ignoring the 4 year old I sound like.
"True,"
he says in a dramatic drawl, "and now Jake and I are making it up to you
by making sure you don't get grounded till you're 85 with 7 cats."
On
that note, I agree happily and then go back to my original reason for wanting
to hang with them tonight. "Montesano, huh?" My heart skyrockets with
enthusiasm.
On
that note, I agree happily and then go back to my original reason for wanting
to hang with them tonight. "Montesano, huh?" My heart skyrockets with
enthusiasm. Montesano has but one thing to offer—Papa Smokez. He's a powerful,
tall, huge boulder of muscle for a guy, 40 something and been to prison more
times than anyone bothers remembering anymore, which, in all honesty, is no
reason for any excitement. But what is exciting, is that he gives the Wolves a
lot of 'business' that I actually get to see. Smokez runs the racing scene down
in his territory and he's notoriously neutral with the gang business. Montesano
is no man's land, so for Smokez, his races are holy… if you have the cash,
slips and balls of steel to get with the gangs
you race, and if you're in a gang, you keep your gang
shit off his streets and you race. Ultimately, Smokez loves his hustle. His races
are under the radar and he loves my guys because they're his guys. Smokez gets
a cut of the winnings and he looks out for them with regards to anything new or
interesting dealing with their 'errands'. There's also a legal circuit down in
South Bend and when there are new cars in Montesano, Smokez gives Sam and the
boys a call. They come down and race, depending on their mood, but the main
part of it is to gather enough info to know where the cars are stored. Then
they do what's important to Smokez. They scope out his competition so they know
what the new racers are running under the hoods and can ensure that the boys
racing for Smokez in South Bend have machines that are on par or better. He
doesn't rig it, but he likes to know he's got a sure shot at the win. In
return, the guys get paid a pretty penny and Smokez sends his cars to The Den
religiously for all the work he needs done.
"We're
not doing much today," Seth answers, turning right and picking up speed
until everything around us starts blurring into one steady stream of murky
colors. "The race and shit is supposed to be on tomorrow. We're just
picking up Jake, he's with Tony."
I
grimace. Smokez right hand guy, Tony, is super cool and stuff but this was like
seeing the Christmas presents laid out before you and being told you have to
wait till tomorrow to open them.
"Where's
Sam?" I ask, because I know he has to be down there too.
"Got
some shit to take care off with Jared and the others," Seth says in a
practiced and perfected disinterested voice that's designed specifically by
them to throw me off. Before
I met the Fangs, it'd work too. Not, so much. He's being deliberately
vague.
"Errand?"
I ask intentionally easy, watching him out the corner of my eye.
His
reaction is expertly masked, but I catch his jaw tense slightly even though he
answers with no trouble, "Errand."
Oblivious
to my musings, Seth starts to slow down as we near a particularly shady area.
Most of the street lights are busted and the ones that still work flicker in
and out in a way that makes me think of Grim Reaper.
"Tony
doesn't live here," I state, rubbing my hands up and down my forearms. I'm
safe with Seth, I know I am, but this place is just freakishly creepy and I
suddenly can't shake the feeling I'm being watched.
Seth
must feel it too, because he's on alert. I can see the cogs turning in his
head. In this area there could be numerous people lurking. I'm safe with him.
He's more than skilled and he'd die before letting something happen. True to
form his body is set into an easy slouch though his eyes look into the darkness
knowingly. His one hand rests comfortably on his jeans, just close enough for
him to pull out the gun I know he hides there, more from me than anyone on the
outside. With his other hand, he flicks the headlights once, twice, then cuts
them completely.
"Didn't
say we were going to his house," he looks at me as he answers and then
smiles easily, an attempt to cheer me up, as he unzips his jacket and tosses it
to me. I pull on the familiar blue and grey gratefully. "Relax, Bells.
See, there's Jake right now." He points out the window and sure enough, I
see Jake jogging up towards us with his hands deep inside his jacket pockets
and a steady stream of mist coming out his mouth.
"Holy
fuck, it's colder than a witch's tit out there!" are the first words out
his mouth when he gets in, which is followed quickly by a filter added in his
brain. "Whatarya doing here, Bells?"
"Nice
seeing you too," I roll my eyes. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but
I'm sitting on my hands to warm them and it's working, so I don't check it.
"I felt like a road trip," I say instead, "What are you doing here?" I sing-song,
looking at him with a cocked brow. He was here on an 'errand' too, I just know
it.
Seth
sniggers and does a fast 180 turn, spinning us back the way we came, then guns
it down the street.
Jake
shakes his head dismissively, telling me it's not important. "You've been
scarce. How's the school shit looking, pipsqueak?" He asks, giving me a
toothy grin while slipping a lighter out his pocket and holding a pretty,
glowing and mesmerizing flame to his cigarette.
I
feel horrible, thinking about how to answer that. "It's 'k." I say
jokingly.
He
shrugs a 'cool' then goes back to telling Seth of some 'developments' and I
zone out until we reach the highway and my phone vibrates in my pocket again.
The cars warmed up now, so I wriggle and get it out. There are two messages
from a number I don't recognize. The first message makes me choke on air.
~ Prefer you in my colors ~
For
a beat I just sit there staring at the screen, while the boys speak animatedly
about something that holds no interest to me at the moment, because when I open
the second message, I stop breathing altogether.
~ See you soon, Cappuccinetto - E ~
The
second both thrills and terrifies me, because I now know it's Edward and he's
somewhere in Smokez' territory. My one and only consolation is that if Jake
isn't wounded and Edward didn't make some attempt to pull me out the car from
wherever he was lurking in Montesano, I know for sure he was here on his own
business. One more day with no altercation between the two gangs, thank
God for Smokez!
I
debate whether to reply or not. Edward's temper rules him when it comes to the
Wolves. I was honestly surprised he hadn't made his presence known when he saw
me in the car. Whatever it was he was doing there had to be important. I'm
pretty sure the fact that his 'job' had held him back while he watched me drive
off with Seth's jacket on, had blown his sense of reason to shit. Eventually, I
decide against replying to Edward because with the mood he was probably in, he
was going to do what he wants either way.
As
we pull up to Dad's place, I tug Seth's jacket tighter and curse in my head
when I open the door, "Mother of God! I can't feel my nose!"
Jake
chuckles, "Well, I can definitely see it Rudolf," he quips.
"I
wish I had a tan," I mumble crossing my eyes so I can try and get a peek
at my red nose.
Both
snort, "You'd think you'd have one by now, Pale Face."
True,
the Res has always been more of my 'home'.
"I'm
telling Sarah," I threaten grumbling.
That
successfully gets them to shut up. Jake hops out to take my place in the front.
He stops before getting in and looks at me.
"Bells,"
Jake's voice is too hopeful and cautiously reasonable for my liking, "how
'bout I take you to work tomorrow?"
"How
'bout no." my answer makes his face fall, a grimace of distaste working
across his features.
"I
just want to make sure you're safe, Bella." He tries to sway me.
I
understand, really, I get it, and I respect him for it. But I know the problems
it could bring if something where to go wrong. And with these gangs and the
magnitude of my secret, there's no dearth of things that could go wrong.
My
mind's made up. There's no way in hell, they can be in the same vicinity. I
shake my head firmly, "I'm safe Jake," I wish I could explain the
levels to which that truth extends, but I can't. "No one bothers me. I do
my thing and I come home. I don't want to start a problem where there isn't
one."
I
try to be as truthful as possible to ease my guilty conscience. Lying by
omission is still lying and I'm currently lying to the faces of people I love
dearly about something so big, it literally holds in its grasps their lives on
a daily basis. I feel sick and it has nothing to do with the unintentional
partying this time.
"I'm
sorry, Jake," the sincerity in my voice is as brutal as the war of
emotions churning in my abdomen. "Sari is going to Port A tomorrow
anyways, so I'll get a ride with her to the bookstore and walk to Nell' Ombra.
It's only a block away," I finish quickly before I lose my microscopic
hold on myself.
I
can see they want to argue. Their lips are pressed together in grim lines and
their gazes are hard as steel.
"Just
me then," Jake tries to bargain and I see Seth start to protest, before
Jake gives him a look telling him to shut the fuck up and let him do this.
"Jake,"
I say exasperated, "I'm freezing. I'm gonna go inside." I lean
forward and hug him and do the same to Seth when I walk round the car to get to
the house. "Love ya both." It's the truth because from everything
about Renee that I hate, I'm grateful to her for the family I ended up with
thanks to her leaving. "Go home." I wave offhandedly, shooing them
away. "I'll call you guys tomorrow and we'll hang out after work. Oh! And I wanna go to Montesano too
okay?"
Forks'
isn't safe for them even if dad is home, should there be an incident, they run
a risk of being found out. It's still unknown to Charlie that they run with the
'infamous' ones in the Grey Wolves.
I'm
already on the porch before Jake bobs his head with a small, easy smile and
gets back in the car and they blare the horn in goodbye and disappear down the
road.
The
front door opens and I spin to see my dad holding it. He's checking the
driveway to see who brought me home, because the only car horn he recognizes is
the Black's. However, my eyes rake over him slowly and I feel the size of them
growing the more I see. Dad's white as a ghost… there's flour from his shirt to
his face and if I'm not mistaken, there are bits of noodles in his hair.
My
jaw drops and I slam my hands against my mouth so fast, I taste blood slipping
onto my tongue when I run it over the stinging insides of my lips.
"Chief," I ask very quietly, "what tried to eat you?"
I
snort and get it together quickly, cause if I start laughing now I will not be
able to stop. He clears his throat.
"I
was cooking supper," he says dignifiedly in his gruff voice. Tears are
building at the corner of my eyes and if this man keeps talking, I will burst
and die with how bad I gotta cackle like a witch. He takes in my expression,
rolls his eyes and guffaws, "wanna order a pizza?"
~.~.~D&D~.~.~
My
sides are starting to cramp from the silent laughing by the time I get off the
phone and the two large pepperoni's are on their way.
"Help
is on its way!" I yell, skipping into the kitchen where he's already
hidden all the evidence of his supper massacre. Damn cops, that would've made
the best Christmas card ever. I'd keep it simple. Behind the picture I'd write, Merry
Christmas Sarah, three guesses who picked up Bella's chef's hat?
"Hey,
hey, hey, now," Dad sits down at the table, placing a soda for me and
taking a swig of his beer, "It wasn't so bad."
Sitting
down, I raise an incredulous brow at him. "Dad, you looked like supper
threw you up."
He
huffs and grumbles. I know he's just playing. "Okay, ease up on the ol'
man, I was sleep-cooking."
I
start to feel guilty, it's a joke that's not funny to me. Dad looks dead tired.
Oblivious, my old man chuckles all gruffly and gravelly his mustache twitches
into a smile of amusement. "And at least this was one of my rare cooking mess ups."
If
there was more remnants of pot pie noodles lying around, I'd throw it at him.
"Hey! Sari said I'm improving!" I defend righteously.
He
keeps smiling under his bushy mustache but lets me play pretend. "Sure
honey. That salad tasted pretty good, even if it looked like pieces to a
helluva puzzle."
"Thank
you," I accept proudly, it's true. It didn't look too good but it had
tasted great.
Taking
a sip of soda, I wake up and walk to the sink. As I'm washing my hands, dad
speaks again and at the words that leave his mouth, I feel my own grow dry.
I'd
feel less terrified if I were back in my nightmare from this morning.
"Not
sure how long this case is going to be," Dad starts almost apologetically,
"got some time time off tomorrow though," my pulse is starting to
build up in my ears as I watch his reflection in the window.
Please don't let this be going where I think
its going.
My
hands are dead still under the running water.
None
the wiser, my poor old man smiles proudly in that way that only fathers can. He
sits back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. "I was thinking of
driving you to work tomorrow. You know, see the place where my little girl is
working while I have a chance."
If
it were possible, I want to run through the wall and into the forest making a
beeline for La Push screaming, 'I changed my mind!'
OH GOD, JACOB COME BACK!
~.~.~ Thank you for reading.
Love and God bless: Kat;) ~.~.~
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