Chapter Nine

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"So who were you visiting?" Vincent asks sitting in a booth at McDonald's.

I hesitate. "Oh... my friend. She got in a really bad car accident." I look up from my coffee and stare into his eyes as they fill with sympathy.

"Oh I'm so sorry. Is she alright?"

"Yeah, shes actually getting released soon." I smile, he returns it.

"That's good." He takes a bite of his cheeseburger.

How relaxing it must be to be able to just eat anything.

I'm still smiling and watching him chew when his eyes go big. I follow his gaze which I realize is on my arm.

My scars.

"Are you alright, Taylor?" He reaches a hand and runs it across the scars.

"Oh..." I pull my arm away and smile. "I'm fine." I think of Colton, my eyes burn.

"Are you sure?" Vincent looks sincerely concerned.

"Yes. Thank you." I nod.

Vincent finishes his burger and takes his things to the trash.

"Thank you for the coffee. It was lovely." I throw my empty cup away.

"Of course, are you sure you don't want anything to eat before we leave?" We stop outside his car on the passenger side.

"Yeah. It's okay." I laugh slightly and turn my head for a second.

When I turn it back, Vincent is smiling at me again.

"What?" I ask, blushing.

"I was just thinking... maybe we should do this again sometime?" He stops, seeing my face. It's a mixture of excitement and horror all in one. "It doesn't have to be a date... uhm... if you're ever in the hospital - "

I cut him off, "I'm uhm... not in a good spot to date. I'm sorry," I rub my left hand up my arm feeling each bump of the scar tissue.

"Oh... do you mind me asking what happened?" His accent sounds amazing when he's upset. Is it bad I think that?

"The person I love passed away not to long ago." I look down as a couple tears escape.

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was a lucky lad." Vincent tries to play it cool, but this is just as weird for him as it is for me.

"But I'd love to have lunch sometime. I'm new to the state, so when I get settled into a place I'll definitely call you."

"Do you need any suggestions? I know of a swell apartment building that is renting and a good price range, but the fee to move in is paid right up front. I have more money than I know what to do with. I'd throw in a couple hundred if you need." He's way too nice for a stranger.

"Oh really? Mind taking me to check it out?" I try and clear the air.

"I can't. I have to get back to work. Maybe tomorrow? I'm off then. I can take you to a hotel for the night?"

"That would be nice. Thank you."

We drive in silence. Vincent pulls into a hotel parking lot and we say our goodbyes. I watch him drive away.

I go in and rent a room. Only a hundred or so for one night.

The first thing I do when I get in is lay in bed and think of what I have. I didn't grab my backpack. I don't have a phone. Not even my iPod. I don't have my best friend. My ribs are killing me. My limp is worsening and I'm starving.

So what do I do? Ransack for a knife. A razor. Anything.

Nothing.

Who doesn't put fucking silverware in hotel rooms?

I walk to the front desk and ask for the nearest shop.

"You're in luck, there's a Meijer right down the road in a walking distance."

"Thanks so much," I say as I walk away.

I walk there. I buy some sweatpants, jeans and a sweater, razors, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a few other necessities before checking out.

Back at the hotel room I swiftly take apart the razor. The blade comes free within a matter of a minute.

I turn the shower on almost to the hottest it can get. I get undressed and step in.

"This... is luxury." I say to myself as I glide the blade across my legs and arms.

Relief. Is all I can feel.

The blood trickles out and I just sit there, unable to react.

I wash my hair and get out, tending to my wounds.

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