Feral Claws [Completed/Editing]

Chapter Seventeen

After a quick cleaning of my wounds, which wasn't pleasant at all, the doctor deemed me well. His literally words were, "I've never seen anyone heal so remarkably.", but that was no surprise to me.

River had spent the whole night elsewhere. Maybe he went home, or maybe he slept in the car. All I knew was that he wasn't there, but bright and early he strolls into the room like he was born to do so. He's clearly stressed; his eyes are framed by deep dark circles, and his lips are pressed in a tight line. He doesn't immediately address me, but smiles when he notices me staring.

I don't care, anyway. I don't want to address our strained relationship just yet. Plus, those pain meds were still pumping strong.

I kept finding myself staring into space, thinking about what happened. Sam's dead eyes haunted me, and every time I closed my eyes I could see them. I felt numb and sad, all at the same time.

After the doctor deemed me well, he wrote me a prescription for more pain medication and sent me on my way. They let me take home a wheelchair, which River insisted he push.

River was parked in a no parking zone, with two tickets stuck under the wiper of his truck. Huh, I guess he never left the hospital after all.

River opened the passenger side door and looked at me awkwardly.

"I would hop up there myself, but I struggle even without a shot to the stomach." I said.

River smiled slightly and gathered all one hundred and forty pounds of me into his arms. I grunted as my stitches stretched my skin, but soon I was placed into the comfy seats of River's F-150.

After I was snug as a bug and buckled, River walked around and got into the drivers seat. I stared straight ahead as he started the engine, but when I was sure his eyes were on the road I snuck a quick peek his way.

We locked eyes as we both glanced sideways, locking eyes. We had never been in an argument or fight for longer than a few hours, tops. But, then again, he had never broken my trust before either. The tension was thick in the air, and I decided I had had enough.

"River-"

"Juniper-"

We both paused to give the other person time to speak, but when he never spoke I continued.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you had killed someone?" I asked.

He didn't answer for a minute, but his grip tightened around the steering wheel. Finally, he blew out a breath of air as if he had been holding it in and responded.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you, but I just didn't. I didn't want you to know that about me. There were a few times I wanted to tell you, but by then I hadn't mentioned it for so long that I started to believe it didn't matter."

"Didn't matter?! River, when I met you I was a mess. You knew what I did, and yet you never thought to tell me you had gone through the same thing?" I paused, trying to simmer down, but my anger just boiled over even more. "Or maybe you weren't going through the same thing as me. Maybe you killed that girl in cold blood. Maybe you liked it." I hissed.

River hit the steering wheel with a loud thud, causing the horn to beep. I flinched, but his outburst only made me angrier.

"I didn't like it. In fact, I wanted to die after what I did. The only thing that I feared worse than myself was my father, and that's why I did what I did." He raced down the road, flying through a red light. Cars honked and I cursed under my breath, and slowly River eased up on the gas pedal. "I wanted to forget. I never wanted you to know about that side of me because I wanted it to cease to exist altogether." He whispered.