Playing With Fire (Previously Burning The Bad Boy) (UNDER RECONSTRUCTION)

{6} Bad Boy's and Hospitals Don't Mix

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My dad was lounged on the couch with a Stephen King novel when I unlocked the door and stepped in through the doorway, pushing the door shut gently behind me.

"Hey there, sweetie." he greeted with a warm smile. "How is Damon doing?"

"He's fine." I whispered, hanging my jacket on the broken coat rack beside the door. "I had to take from the money I've been saving over the last few years to pay for them to at least see him. Apparently the little Demon spawn doesn't have insurance."

Dad sat upright, surprised. "A very surprising thing for you to do for a boy you don't like."

I shrugged, grimacing when I saw the curiosity lingering in his eyes.

"I was the one that caused the accident, Dad. It was the least I could do, bitter feelings aside." I answered.

He was genuinely taken back by my response, but refused to go any further into the topic. I was relieved; the last thing I wanted to do right now was help a man that couldn't even face reality understand why I had helped make sure Damon was seen.

Breaking away from my father in the living room, I hurried into the kitchen and pulled a TV dinner from the freezer, unwrapping it slowly, forcing my eyes on to the directions along the side of the white packaging to keep tears from pooling in my eyes.

"Mack, I think we need to talk, sweetie." Dad peeked his head into the kitchen, his entire body following soon after. The top two buttons were undone on his white button up, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black dress pants, rocking back and forth on his bare feet.

"Micky." I whispered. "And I think it can wait until morning."

I stuck my food into the microwave and did my best to avoid the sad look I could see crossing my father's face out of the corner of my eye.

"I think now is fine." he whispered.

I spun on my heel to glare at him. "I just got back from a really long day and two hours at the hospital, Dad. I'm not in any mood to hear your bullshit, alright?"

"Bullshit? Excuse me?" he straightened, hands falling limp at his sides. "You better watch how you're talking to me or I won't allow you to see that boy again."

"Wow, back up." I laughed.

"What do you find so funny?"

"I'd be happy if I never saw Damon Fox again in my life, Dad. If you paid any attention, you'd know I hate everything he's about and dislike him as a person in general. Although, I doubt you'd want to take any time away from those five dollar hookers you have over every night."

Without another look or word, I took my food from the microwave and stalked out of the room, ducking into my room with a shake of my head. I kicked my bedroom door shut behind me and sat on my bed, staring down at my food. It hardly looked appetizing, especially after fighting with my father, but I knew I had to eat.

I stood for a second to take my phone from my back pocket and stared down at the millions of texts and voicemails Rachel had left me over the last few hours.

The last we'd seen of each other, I had agreed to climb into the back of the ambulance with Damon since Ryder refused to allow his best friend to go home without being sure there was no serious injuries first. The second I had gotten to the hospital, I had checked my phone to find she had already blown it up, asking for answers to why exactly I had gone with Damon. Because I didn't truly understand my split feelings myself, I wasn't able to send back a text to assure her everything was okay.

I didn't want to lie; for all I knew, Damon could hunt me down at school Monday morning and accidentally on purpose have me trip down the stairs. Even worse; he could release my diary, my deepest, darkest secrets, to the entire school without even the slightest tinge of remorse.

Rachel had tried to help me overcome my fear of Damon the last few years; reassuring me that he wouldn't come back and hurt me like I had accidentally done for the last ten years. That he was all bark and no bite; he wasn't dangerous at all, but scared and broken and doing everything in his power to mask it.

As I sat there alone in my bedroom, my tray of food resting on my lap, I thought back to Damon at the hospital. The look that had crossed his face for a fraction of a second when he was told no relatives would be showing tonight. He had looked angry, bitter, and the most shocking of the three, disappointed. The tough, bad boy exterior of Damon Fox had fractured for a moment, revealing a little crack into the boy that was inside, trying to crawl his way to the surface but afraid of not being accepted.

I didn't think there was anyone at school that could possibly live through the same hell I did every night when I walked through the front door. I had been the furthest from right. Damon Fox had it worse than I did, but even with that knowledge, I couldn't just sit and accept what he had become because of it. 

***AN***

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~ChasingMadness24