Page 7 of The Retaliation You Deliver
It’s not until I walk back into my room and the sound of my cell vibrating in my purse fills my ears that everything comes crashing down around me once more.
Sitting at my vanity table, I rummage around in my purse until I find it.
That silly little girl inside me hopes for it to be him. For him to apologize and tell me that he never really hated me, that he understands that I had to do what I did back then.
But I already know it’s not.
There’s no way he’s going to forgive me that easily, or ever.
I left him to—
I swallow down the lump in my throat, unable to even think the words let alone acknowledge what happened to him inside that room that day.
And how many times after?
Lowering my cell, I heave at the thought of what he’s been through. The abuse I helped subject him to with my inaction.
I’m out of the chair before I even register I’ve moved and in seconds, I’m on my knees in front of the toilet, emptying my stomach into the bowl.
Tears once again cascade down my face as I fall back on my ass and breathe in and out, counting each breath.
It’s a move I haven’t had to use for years in order to get control of myself and I hate that I’ve got to revert back to it.
Once I’m stronger, I brush my teeth once more and go back to find where I abandoned my cell.
I find it face down on the floor between the vanity and the bathroom.
Turning it over and waking it up, I find what I was expecting.
The call wasn’t from Leon but an unknown number.
And there’s not just one call but eight.
Curious, I open the one voicemail and put it on speaker as I press play.
“M-Macie? It’s Peyton, Luca Dunn’s girlfriend.” My heart pounds against my ribcage as her words flow through me. “We… um… we just wanted to check that you’re okay. If you could call me that would be great. T-thanks, bye.”
All the air rushes from my lungs.
Do they know?
Something tells me they don’t. I have a sinking suspicion that there are only three of us who do know the truth.
Needing to at least attempt to find some strength before I return her call, I drag on a clean set of clothes and blow-dry my hair.
I tell myself that I’m not putting it off any longer. I have no idea what Peyton knows about last night, that we’re even in Miami. But the fact she’s even calling means she must know something.
My stomach drops into my feet as a thought hits me.
What if something happened to him? He was so angry when he left last night. He could have—
As I dial her number, the ringing is loud in the room. My pulse is thundering through my entire body as I wait for the call to connect.
If something has happened to him, I’ll never be able to forgive myself for allowing him to storm out the way he did.
“Hey, can I call you back in ten?” she asks the second the call connects.
“Uh… s-sure.”
