MAD

chvpter 18

He curls his lip but I interrupt him.

"Scorpius and I hit Crippy's tent, we were leaving the city but we hit big so," I gesture broadly, scratching that explanation when I realise it'll lead to more questions. Hit big? I can't tell him about the amount of guns we stole. "Cunt I cannot, explain, how much I regret the decision to stay." I start crying. I hadn't even realised the magnitude of my guilt. I hadn't even realised how much I blame myself for being home. My intuition was telling me to get out, but I was so damn selfish that I had to see Elias. "I should've-. Fuck me I should've taken Scor with me, knocked on E's door and said goodbye then and there instead of waiting around for that fuck-ass party." I cuss myself for letting him see me so vulnerable.

"Why? Cause of your dad?" He balks, though his rage seems to have dissolved into outright concern, or confusion.

"No," I snap, "Yes. Because, of, because of fucking Cola, an' the drugs, an'." I shake my head, hating when my hysterics try to dial up, however I restrain the real rush of tears that want to follow. "Because when I left, Mal grabbed me, put a fuckin' whip-it mask on my mouth. But with all that shit in my system I decided to go home an' get my gun," I skip explaining, knowing it's just going to turn into a long winded confession about how my mother ended up with a stomach full of led. "I was trying to get clean of that damn place but dad and I got into it, so mum fucking lost her shit." With tears streaming down my face, I imagine when she tackled me in defence of her husband, and obscurely, perversely, a laugh escapes me. "You saw my fucking neck." How is that an endearing memory? She choked me out, and I wan' cry for love of her... but, but the only thing left to love about my mother by the end was that no matter how damn insane she got, or how much she hated me, she always adored dad. Not even mania could corrupt it.
I realise, vaguely, that his confusion has turned into guilt, but I know if he so much as utters a single hint of sympathy I'll lose my shit.

"Don' fuckin' look at me like that," I demand, but when he opens his mouth to ask something I shake my head. "I don' even know what I'm saying no more, Reid. Jus' don' get it fuckin' twisted, I have known since I was a kid that my father is not a failsafe if shīt blows up in my face. The Ghouls are long dead to me so don' fücking condescend to call me their goddamn princess. An' don' front like you actually believe I'm in here for a bigger reason than... I don't fucking know. Bad karma." I slam the bathroom door in his face.

...

I nearly jump ten-foot-high when Reid pushes himself off the bed, half of his muscular chest catching a patch of moonlight as he lowers himself to the ground in front of me. Half his face remains hidden by shadow, making it impossible to glean his intentions.

He sits away from me to put physical distance between us, like I'm an unpredictable horse that he wants to coax into trust.

"I'm sorry... For all of it, not just today, but the last three weeks I've been antagonising you." He rasps, the muscle in his cheek flagging, "Hope has always been good to me, so when I said that shit about the drugs it tasted bitter the second it left my mouth. I'm sorry. It's no excuse but I go mad when people lock me up, and it's fücking with my head that I have no idea how to find Bloom." He rubs his face, uncomfortable with what he's about to admit. "I've never been good at trusting people, but I used that as an excuse to blame you for all of this because I honestly don' know what the truth is anymore. I hate when I can't figure a problem out. I'm not trying to justify it. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, and I shouldn't have got in your face. It was an abuse of my power."

"Power?" I snap, and he grimaces.

"Fück, that sounded-." To my utter surprise, he cuts himself off, and his cheeks flush like a little kid. "I didn't mean like that; Bloom always says that because I'm bigger than her and meaner than her, it's worse if I raise my voice." He nearly squirms in embarrassment, but a little smile quirks my lips. Is he nervous?