Page 55 of Wreckage of My Life
“WreckerisDylan, Em,” I try explaining.
“I, what?” she continues staring at me.
“Forget it. Tell me what you know while I get dressed.” I turn around and march to my bag where I take out a pair of clean underwear and top, deciding to wear the jeans I traveled here in on my bottom half.
“How are you so calm?” Emily is fretting behind me.
“I don’t even know what’s going on,” I throw over my shoulder as I walk to the small bathroom to the side. “I’m gonna jump in the shower, talk loud,” I order her over the water that’s hitting the tub with loud splashes.
“You’re gonna take a shower?” Emily sounds completely thrown off by this turn of events, and her face clearly shows that she’s judging me.
“Okay,” I sigh and turn around to face her. I am all out of patience, and she needs to start talking already. Her doing it while I clean myself up will save us time. “He fucked me all night long,” I explain, and she gasps in shock at my crude words. “I stink,” I continue talking like she didn’t just take a step back in distress. “I can’t go out in public without washing up first. I refuse to do it. I won’t wash my hair, so I’ll be quick.” Emily nods at me like she agrees it’s a good idea, but I can tell that she’s not sure what to make of me. “Talk,” I sound abrasive at a minimum.
“Uh, I was downstairs with Puck,” she finally starts, and I turn around, drop the sheet and jump in the shower. “We were having a cup of coffee at the shop in the corner…”
“Louder,” I call out to her when the water is almost drowning her voice.
“We saw commotion in front of the hotel,” Emily’s voice echoes in the small bathroom. “Puck rushed out, and I followed him because I didn’t know what else to do,” she explains, and I can tell that she’s about to get slightly distracted.
“What was happening?” I ask to keep her on track.
“This guy was being dragged out. Puck called himWrecker. And Wrecker told Puck to make sure you’re okay. Puck told me last night that his friend was with you, so I figured he was the guy you met when you came to Texas earlier this summer.” Emily tells me all that in a loud and fast voice, trying to get it all out in one breath.
“Why was he being arrested?” I don’t understand this.
“They didn’t say,” she starts. “But I saw two stuffy suits talking to the side,” she continues, sounding proud and making me smile. “So, I walked closer to them and heard them talking. They said attempted murder. That he tried killing someone last night,” her voice starts shaking a bit as she tries to tell me everything she knows. “I thought it was you.” By the way her voice cracks at the end, I’m pretty sure Emily is crying now.
I finish my quick shower and turn the water off. She hands me a towel, and I grab it, drying myself with quick moves, heartbeat out of control and brain on high alert. When I’m done, I grab the clothes I placed on the sink earlier and pull them on as fast as I can.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” I mutter as I put some toothpaste on my toothbrush, which I had the forethought to get from my bag when I grabbed my clothes. “He was with me all night long,” I mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste. “I got the marks to prove it,” I point to the huge hickeys on both sides of my neck and red marks on my upper arms. Just thinking of how I got them makes me weak in knees.
“To be honest,” Emily blushes and averts her eyes. “The way you look right now is not helping his cause if you plan on going to the police like that.”
“What?” I spit the foamy toothpaste into the sink and rinse my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You look like you got manhandled, Becca,” she exclaims when she realizes that my confusion is real.
‘Well, I did,” I shrug, hiding my smirk behind the hand towel I’m using to wipe water off my lips. “In the best of ways.”
Emily looks speechless for a second, her mouth opening and closing. After a few seconds of complete silence, she just turns around and stomps out of bathroom, with me on her heels.
“Em,” I grab her by the arm to stop her progress. “Seriously though, what the hell is going on? I was with him all night long. When are they saying he, uh, he…” I am at a loss for words. I’m not sure how to word what she said they’re accusing Dylan of having done last night.
Emily’s face scrunches in a sympathetic grimace. “I didn’t catch very many details, but I’m pretty sure I heard two in the morning being mentioned. And that he tried to kill someone. They’re in bad shape. But still alive.”
I cringe at that last part. I am also freaking out the more I think about this entire situation.
“I need to go to the police and let them know he was with me all night long,” I decide, then march to my bag where I throw in the few things I managed to get out earlier.
“How are we going to find out where they took him?” Emily drops on the bed, just watching me as I look around to make sure I’m not forgetting anything.
“What about the guy you spent the night with? Prick or whatever,” I throw my hand out toward the door, like the dude’s standing there.
“His name is Puck,notPrick.” Emily sounds positively offended, and I feel my eyes growing wide in surprise. I thought he wasn’t her type, being in a gang and all.
“I’m sorry. Do you think he could tell me where to find Dylan?”
“Who’s Dylan?” she repeats her question from earlier.
