Page 56 of Waiting Game

Valerie

Istayed by Ren for most of the day.

By nightfall, I knew that I needed to escape for a little while. I was desperate for a shower and a change of clothes because I had been sitting in the same damp clothes from camping. Rome offered me some of her clothes, but I needed an excuse to get away. I needed time to process, and a few moments of peace to think everything through.

It was a struggle to keep my eyes open during the tram ride back into the heart of the city. I had barely slept the entire time that I had been in Melbourne, and it was starting to catch up with me.

My head would nod to the side occasionally as sleep took over, but luckily the tram was almost empty. The clacking and rocking of the tram lulled me, making it harder and harder to stay alert.

The next time that I closed my eyes, flashes of blood and the sounds of gunshots filled my head and jolted me wide awake. I looked around but nothing had changed, my mind was just playing games with me. I put a hand to my heart, trying to calm the pounding in my chest.

I had shot a man.

I didn’t care how much everyone tried to convince me that I did the right thing, I had no idea how I would be able to live with myself now. Intrusive mental pictures of his lifeless body sprawled out on the gravel, and the blood seeping from his neck, kept flashing through my mind every time I closed my eyes. At least with all the drama with Ren, it had distracted me from the breakdown that I knew was coming.

Maybe alone time was a bad idea.

I looked down at my hands and for a second even thought that I could see tinges of red, even though none was there. Leaning my head against the frame, I looked out the window at the city passing by. The streets were littered with people. People who managed to live normal lives. So badly I wanted to be one of them.

But how many of them were actually normal?

How many of them kept dark secrets?

How many of them knew about our shaded part of the world?

Was anyone truly innocent?

Surely there had to be some sort of middle ground, some sort of happy medium between the boredom-inducing norm and crime family heiress. The thing that was bothering me the most was that I couldn’t figure out who was in the wrong here.

Was my family really as bad as I thought? Or was it me?

It seemed that I was the only one with the problem, the only one who struggled with it. Why?

My heart would not calm, and I was happy to see my tall hotel building in the distance. I jumped off of the tram and rushed towards my room, tapping my hand impatiently against my thigh as the elevator rose to my floor.

I swiped my key-card and opened the door, slamming it behind me and triple checking that it was locked. Taking a few deep breaths, I looked around the room. My eyes focused in on the suitcase on the bed, and my piles of clothes strewn across the floor.

I rifled through the heap, trying to find my comfiest pair of clothes.

I needed comfort.

After I found pyjamas and a towel, I hopped into the shower and stood underneath the boiling hot water for a long time, racking my brain about what I needed to do.

And every time, I came back to the same answer.

The same instinct that I always had.

I needed to get the fuck out of this city.

Sitting on the edge of the bed only wrapped in a towel, I opened my wallet and looked at the cash that Rome had given me. It was just enough to get me home.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself, standing up and getting dressed in a hurry.

There was an urgency and frantic energy that took over once the decision was made. I started moving around the room, picking up and stuffing the rest of my belongings back into the suitcase. Tears of frustration welled in my eyes as I shoved, pushed, and punched at the material, trying to make it all fit. My head snapped around when I heard a knock at the door.

I looked through the peephole at the short woman standing in front of it.

I considered not opening it, and pretending that I wasn’t here.

---