Hit And Run With It

Chapter 17 - Caleb

A/N: I know the song in the link is totally overplayed but I feel like it fits Caleb's character so well, especially with his past, which will be revealed later. ;)

***

The next morning is absolutely brutal.

I crack my eyes open to see that somehow I managed to get myself downstairs, without going headfirst over the stair's railing, where I passed out on one of the couches in the living room. There are a few people lying on the floor and other couches, dead to the world. My mouth tastes like sandpaper, and my body feels like a fish out of water. Water. I realize that I need water. Badly.

The sunlight of the late morning slips through the blinds and is laid out in slats across the floor, and for a moment I'm lying on the couch, feeling absolutely nothing. It's calm and I welcome the feeling, letting it flood over me and I close my eyes again, only to have my stomach twist into knots when the events of last night come rushing over me like a flood and taking my breath away, choking me.

Belle.

Her name forms on my lips as I shoot up from the couch and stumble around the living room, desperately searching for my phone. One of my feet brushes it, and I bend over and snatch it up. My mind flashes back to last night, standing outside her house.

No. She doesn't want me.

My body goes limp with this realization, and I crash back down onto the couch, back to feeling nothing again.

Last night was too close to Belle knowing the truth than I was comfortable with, but it was still the truth. The longer I drag this act out, the more devastated she's going to be. Last night she told me that she didn't need me to protect her, and she was right. She's strong, and she can take care of herself. She doesn't need Caleb Davis around screwing with her reality when her mind is already struggling to figure that out.

Today, I tell myself. Today is when I tell her, no matter what happens.

Today is also the day that I most likely lose her.

The thought is a knife deep into my chest, twisting and digging around in my heart. Having to tell her what happened to her, that I caused her accident, is more terrifying than when I actually did hit her. When I almost killed her.

But you've done it before, a traitorous thought runs through my head, a hit and run on my emotions. I shove the memory, hard, back into it's place in the deep recesses of my min. My hands involuntarily ball into fists, white hot anger flashing through me. Before I realize what I'm doing, I've grabbed the nearest bottle to me and thrown it across the room and into the kitchen, where it shatters against the wall. The sudden sharp sound of glass pierces the silence in the house, and the people in the living room barely stir, while Owen comes barrelling down the stairs, still half asleep.

"Again, dude? Seriously?" He says, yawning, after peering into the kitchen and seeing the broken brown shards littering the floor. "You've got a problem."

I should be apologizing. "I have to go," I mutter, extracting my phone from in between the couch cushions and walking quickly towards the door, ignoring Owen's protests.

The sun is offensively hot when I go outside, and I remember that I didn't get any water. Maybe Belle would give me a glass at her place.

I laughed. As if.

The drive back to her house was different than it was last night, but I still felt the same. I was sick to my stomach with anxiety last night, but that was because I didn't want her to leave. This morning, I'm sick with the thought of seeing her again, seeing how my actions etched pain into her beautiful face. Funny how things can change so much in only a few hours.

Pulling up to the Evans' house, I notice that Marion's SUV was missing from the driveway. A motorcycle occupied the space next to the empty one; probably Bill's.

A lump rises in my throat, making me cough to try and get rid of it. It sticks there like the words I've wanted to say to Belle from the beginning. This was it. It had to be.

My heartbeat crashes in my ears as I get out of my truck and I ball my hands into fists again; although this time it isn't out of anger; it's to keep them from shaking so much.

The door taunts me, daring me to enter and spill my secrets to those inside. I take a deep breath, then another, and finally bring myself to push the doorbell. I hear the tune resonate throughout the house, and each second that ticks by wears away at my calm façade. Finally, somebody puts an end to my torture, and the door clicks and swings open, but it's someone a lot shorter than who I wanted it to be.

Danny is still in his pajamas, rubbing his eye with one hand and holding the door open with another. His curly red hair sticks up on one side and is a complete mess. Realizing the time, I try to backpedal.

"Oh sorry, Danny. I didn't realize that you would all probably still be sleeping. I'll come back later," I raise my hands in front of me slightly as I back up off the step, trying to make a break for the safety of my truck.

"It's okay, I was up anyways. Mom had to take Belle to the hospital," Danny says nonchalantly, sleep still evident in his voice.

The ground underneath me pitches, and I have to resist the urge to hurl.

"Is she...," my mouth can't form words. What if she ends up dying without knowing the truth? "What's wrong?" My tongue is dry, and I'm leaning towards Danny on my tiptoes, waiting for his next words.

"I don't know," he shrugs a little. "I guess she was having some major headaches when she woke up, so Mom wanted to go get things checked out. She was really worried..." he trails off, looking down at a beetle crawling across the step.

It's probably nothing. It has to be nothing.

"Uh, thanks...thanks Danny. I'll head over there right now," I said, my stomach doing acrobatics in my abdomen, meanwhile my mind is racing a hundred miles a minute.

He shrugs again, still looking at the beetle. A hint of a sad smile finds its way onto his lips.

"Say hi to her for me." His voice is small, and an overwhelming urge hits me to sweep him up in a huge hug that would stick all of his broken pieces back together, to tell him that everything is going to be fine, and that he has nothing to worry about.

But I'm not even sure of that myself.

So I stay where I am standing, and nod. "I will. Promise."

It's only when Danny fully closes the door that my brain kicks into action. I sprint to my truck, throwing the door open and turning the key.

Please God, I begged. Don't let her go. Not yet.

I'm not even sure that I believe in him, but it felt right as I sped towards the hospital, hoping that somebody up there heard me.

***

Wow, I can't believe I haven't updated in so long. I apologize to you guys, if there's still anyone who reads this, that is. My summer job is going to allow me to have a lot more time to write, and although I am setting this goal tentatively, I hope to finish this book this summer, with regular updates.

Until next update.