Bitter Blood (BBi)

Chapter 11: The Night Confessor

Chapter Eleven
The Night Confessor

Avery's hand slams against my chest, sending me flying back onto the ground with a force strong enough to knock the wind out of me.

I look up from the ground just in time to see her disappear through the front door and then slam it closed behind her.

I pull myself into a sitting position, trying my hardest to listen to the conversation going on outside whilst I try to get the strength to stand back up again. It's not easy since it feels like my entire chest has turned to jelly.

All I can hear are low murmurings outside the door. I catch the sound of Avery's harsh and quick replies, but no actual words. The stranger's voice is too deep to understand at all with a thick wooden door between us.

Suddenly, there's silence and the door swings open again.

Avery step's inside, slams it closed again and lean's her back against it. She squeezes her eyes closed and breathes out a long sigh. She opens them again a moment later, standing up straighter as she does, and silently head's toward's the kitchen.

I climb to my feet and follow her.

"What's going on Avery?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Nothing."

"That just there wasn't nothing." I point toward's the door where the sudden commotion just took place. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She shouts. "Don't worry about it!"

"Don't worry about it?" I ask, my own voice raising to meet hers. "Don't worry about it? I'm already worrying, Avery! I'm worrying a damn lot!"

"Well don't." She glare's and stomps across the kitchen.

"Oh wow thanks for that!" I put a hand on my chest and breathe a fake sigh of relief. "That really helped!"

She groan's and swing's open the cupboard, busying herself with searching for a snack.

"Your either going to tell me what that was about," I say, my tone now completely devoid of patience. "Or you can get the hell out of my house."

She turn's to me, surprise clearly written across her face. "Your actually going to kick me out?"

I cross my arms over my chest. "If I have to."

She shake's her head and closes the cupboard, already walking toward's the door.

"So that's it then!" I yell after her. "Your just going to walk out and not even bother trying to explain why you practically threw me across the room at the sight of that guy?"

"Yep." Is all she says.

When she step's out the door and continues down the path toward's the street, I slam the door so hard behind her the nearby window's rattle in their panes.

I throw myself down on the couch, still fuming with anger.

Ten minute's - ten minute's - in this house and she's already made me angrier than I think I've ever been in my entire life. It's seemingly impossible to spend time with her now without having to add another dozen questions to the already towering pile I currently have.

I sit, mumbling curses and replaying the entire thing over and over again in my head, for god knows how long. But even as time tick's by, my anger does nothing but grow stronger.

How is it even remotely right that someone can come knocking at my door, clearly threatening to kidnap me, and then to be told by my best friend - the main person in my life I'm suppose to trust - that nothing's wrong?