Page 15 of Wreckage of Me
And I really have. After Malone punched my lights out, he helped me out and reset my nose. It hurt more than the fuckin’ broken ribs from months ago, and I’ll get him for that.
“I’ve been so worried about you.” Becca’s eyes fill with water, and she stretches an arm out like to touch me.
“No physical contact,” the guard barks by the door. I want to slam his head into the wall, then throw his ass out of the room. But I can’t if I want this to look legit.
Becca pulls her hand back like she’s burned herself on something hot. I crave her touch right now. I hate that this is the last time I’m going to see her. I don’t want it to be, I realize with a start. Fuck, I did catch feelings for her.
“Don’t worry about me, babe,” I smirk at her. “It’s all good.”
“Dylan, they think you killed someone! It’s not all good!” She slams a hand on the table, and I’m pretty sure she’d also slap me upside the head if she was allowed to touch me.
“It’ll be fine,” I wave her off, the metal chains on my handcuffs rattling against the metal table. “Not my first time in the slammer, babe.”
“I don’t think you understand what’s going on,” she insists. I am so fuckin’ proud of this girl. I don’t deserve her. “I’ve been trying to talk to someone for days, Dylan.Days!” She leans forward as she enunciates the last word. “It’s like I’m in the damn Twilight Zone. I was finally able to give my statement today…”
“Statement on what?” I interrupt her rant.
“I told them you were with me on the night they say you murdered someone. Are you not aware of that?” she whisper-yells at me like I’m slow.
“Eh,” I shrug and get ready to destroy her. “Bitches who can testify for me are a dime a dozen.” Becca pulls back sharply, slamming her back against the hard metal of the chair that’s nailed to the floor.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m just saying,” I smirk at her like the fuckin’ asshole she already knows I am, “that I got Number One and Number Two down as contacts. They already testified they were with me on that night,” I lie through my teeth. “So, really, your statement is not needed. I don’t know why you’re still here…” I give her my most surprised look.
“Who, uh,” she stutters as she’s obviously fighting back the tears. “Who are Number One and Number Two?”
“Two of the bitches I fuck on the regular when I’m home,” I explain in an even tone without even blinking. No reason for her to know that I haven’t touched, let alone fucked, anyone since the first time I fucked her. Or that I am so hooked on her, I can’t think straight.
“Ah,” a blank mask falls on Becca’s face at hearing my words. “I didn’t realize you had it all lined up like that.” She’s staring at the table as she’s talking to me, refusing to meet my eyes. “Great to hear it’s all good then.”
With that, she stands up from the chair, and turns to leave without another look or word for me.
“Becca,” I call out to her, even though I’m not even sure what I want to tell her.
She only stops when she reaches the door.
“I’m ready to go,” she tells the guard who lifts an eyebrow at me in question. “All done here.”
I give him a light nod, so he turns around and unlocks the heavy door, leading Becca out of the room, and, more importantly, out of my life. For good this time.
I have no idea how much time passes until the guard comes back. He unlocks the handcuffs from the table, then slides them off my wrists and ankles. Malone is looming in the doorway, waiting to walk me back to the empty warehouse that’s ironically connected to the police station, hence us being able to get here so fast.
“All settled?” he grumbles at me in his very deep voice that seems to reverberate against the cinderblock walls.
“Sure is,” I confirm, but my voice hitches at the end. I feel an emptiness inside of me that I can’t figure out how to process. I did the right thing though, I know I did.
“She’s probably never going to talk to you again if you ever cross paths,” Malone tells me the one thing I was trying to achieve here, while also the one thing I was hoping not to happen. My brain is fried, and nothing makes sense.
“I know,” I nod and stand up from the table, stretching my legs, then turning from side to side until I hear my back cracking. It hurts so good.
“I hope you know what you did there.”
“What do you mean?” I play stupid, but I know exactly what he means.
“Hmmm,” he says knowingly, and I let out a big sigh. I can’t be thinking about this anymore.
Next thing on my list is to know for sure that Wyatt got Ethan, and that they’re all safe in Illinois. I need my son to be safe, and if I have to give him away to keep him that way, then so be it. I’d be a shit father anyway.
