Page 92 of Dirty Roulette
“I’m so sorry!” She sobs covered in snot and vomit.
“It’s not your fault!”
Payton’s eyes fall back again, and I grab onto her before she collapses face-first into the dirt. I throw her over my shoulder and place her in the back seat. They’re both a mess. Sloppy and completely incoherent at this point.
My brain refuses to register what happened. I can’t seem to get any oxygen into my lungs as I get in the Jeep. I beg my brain to work properly, but it’s blocking everything out, and I’m granted only small fragments. Neurons laugh like the Joker, pouring gasoline all over my memories and setting them on fire. The taste of blood is on my tongue and my body feels more alive than ever.
My foot pushes down on the gas pedal as I reverse out of the parking space. I can’t stop staring at the dried blood staining the creases in my fingers. It’s smeared all over the steering wheel. It’s like someone handed me a gun and I pulled the trigger. I think I killed Brody.
“Please...” Charlie mumbles in the back. “Ryder please...”
“What?” I ask.
“I need Noah! I didn’t want to leave him, but he made me. He forced me...”
“Are you serious right now? We need to go to the hospital! Brody fucking... he...” I can’t even say the words and stare into the rearview mirror. Charlie’s head wobbles back and forth, her eyes dark and clouded. Payton’s hunches over, completely unconscious.
A police vehicle with flashing lights hightails it into the parking lot. I drive in the other direction, unable to focus on where the exit is.
“No... no!” Charlie sobs, covering her face with two hands. “I have to tell him!”
“They called the police!”
Her eyes roll to the back of her head, and I’m not sure if she understands what’s going on. “We need to go to the hospital!” I slam my hands onto the steering wheel, punching it over and over again before I scream a lung out.
“I hate you!” Charlie sobs, balled up in the back seat like a toddler, hysterically screaming and crying. “You stole my best friend, and now I’m going to lose him!”
“I...I...” I choke up, seeing her in the mirror.
“I hate you both!”
“No, Charlie... I...”
“I need to go see Noah!” She shrieks.
“You’re not getting out!”
“I want Noah!” She kicks the back of my seat. I’m jerked forward, swerving in the parking lot. Snot runs down Charlie’s nose like a waterfall. Her cheeks burn crimson red and look raw. She shrieks as we’re all jostled left to right. It breaks me. My heart feels like it’s being peeled apart.
“Charlie!” Every nerve is continuously being electrocuted. My body convulses and my mouth waters and I think I might get sick.
She fights with her seatbelt. “I’m getting out!”
“No! He assaulted you! You’re not getting out!” I slam on the brakes. The tires screech as we skid on the road. Charlie flings forward in the back seat. The stench of burning rubber fills the air the second I come to a complete halt. I inhale a deep breath of fresh oxygen.
“I’m so stupid!” she screams at the top of her lungs, as droplets of saliva run down her chin. “I’m leaving!” she cries, and the snap of the seatbelt screams into my ears. The door lock clicks and opens as she leaps out, making a break for it.
“Charlie!” I unbuckle and run out after her. Then another patrol car comes peeling in with a fire truck. She’s feet from me, running away fast to the flashing lights, and I’m covered in blood.
I feel out of control, and I’m not sure how I’m alive. “Fuck!” I punch the hood of the Jeep. There is no way I can stay here unless I want to be put in cuffs. I slide back into the seat and peel out of the parking lot.
Chapter thirty-three
Payton
Istare at the white tiles lining the bathtub. Lukewarm water cascades and patters against the shower curtain. A rusty metal caddy hangs up high above me. It holds a cluster of fragrant soaps and crumpled empty bottles with nothing but crusty remains.
I’ve zoned out several times already.
