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Back Series Book 2
Dylan's been a good boy all his life but there's this insurgent flame that has been burning inside him and it's waiting for the right moment to be let out. He doesn't know what or why but he knows that somethi...
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"How are you feeling?"
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I grit out, "Peachy."
"Dude don't lie to me. You've been quiet and fidgety. There's a constant frown on your face and you keep looking around us like something's about to give at any moment."
Looking away from him, towards the passing streets on the other side of the window, I take a moment to digest what he just said. It hits hard because his words are true.
"Yeah well, I feel the same as I look, so it's kind of absurd you're asking me how I am."
"Dy," he sighs. "Don't be a dick to me. I'm on your side."
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry," I sigh. "You might have been the only one, besides uncle Jake, who didn't bat an eyelash when I said I was innocent."
"It's fucking Abby!" He exclaims. "Look, I know you dated her but she wasn't good to anyone. Not even you. Abby was just less mean to get what she wanted - you. She has always been a bitch to everyone else since kindergarten. And you're you... There's no way I'd believe something as ridiculous."
"Yeah," I hum, absentmindedly.
The last thing I want to think about is her. The damage has been done and I am the one who has to deal with the consequences of her actions.
"Almost there," he informs me. "Are you ready?"
No. I am not.
Word must have gotten out by now. I'll be lucky if I am not stoned to death by everyone else.
Shaking my head, I ask instead, "Why did you insist on me coming anyway?"
"Well, because you're fucking innocent. And because you're not putting your life on hold and possibly losing one year of school because of that bitch."
⛓ ⛓ ⛓
The new year has come and gone. After Luna's visit, I've secluded myself in my room, for as long as my parents let me. It's the only place where I'm completely at ease. The sad detail is that it has been hard for my art.
The negative emotions have to get out somehow and I have been painting like crazy. It's Mumma-bear that forces me to take breaks - besides sleeping. She has been giving me this excuse that little nugget will only calm down when, either I or dad, have our heads placed right next to her.
With those moments of snuggling into her lap like when I was six, she forces food down my throat. I guess it's the guilt of not believing me or at least making me think I didn't believe her. It has made me regret the words I told her, but I needed to get it out. It hurt so fucking much then and it still does.
And at the moment, she is the only one making this bearable.
Dad has a pained expression on his face almost 24/7 but I don't have the mental capacity to ask or try to understand what it is. Although I can bet it's because of the impending trial that I will be facing. Or maybe because he never thought I'd be feeling the same pain he felt all those years ago when mum ran away. And yet, he's been relentless. The lawyer has been over every single day, going over things with him and seeing what is being held in my favour or against me.
