Page 49 of Haven't Killed in Years
“I don’t know,” he said as he rolled away from me. “I need to think.”
“Okay.” I stayed still for a few minutes to see if he would say anything else, but when he didn’t, I turned off the lights and crawled into bed, the empty one.
He was just hurt and confused. He wasn’t actually afraid of me. You tend not to defend yourself from a killer by going to sleep next to them. He could pout all night and I could try my best to sleep off the burgeoning hangover. I would wait for his sober reaction in the morning and then decide if this had ruined everything. Looking at him curled up in the bed next to mine, I didn’t have the energy to pretend I would do something to stop him. I just wanted him to forgive me. I just wanted to be Gwen again.
Twenty-Five
When I woke upthe next morning, it was clear the night of sleep had done nothing to prevent a hangover. My mouth was dry, my stomach was an active volcano, and my head was being drilled into by an industrial force. They say drunk sleep isn’t good sleep, but I didn’t understand how I could be so dead to the world and not get any rest from it. That was what I’d been—dead to the world—because I hadn’t even stirred when Dominic snuck out.
I checked my phone when I realized he wasn’t there. He texted saying his keys were on the desk and he was taking the train back to Boston. I sat up in bed too quickly and thought I was going to hurl. The last thing I wanted to do was drive. Apparently the night of sleep hadn’t eased his anger or fear or bruised ego or whatever he was feeling that required such a bold statement as sneaking out and taking a train. At least he wasn’t running to the police. If he were, I’m sure he would have taken the car.
I lumbered into the bathroom and cupped water with my hands from the faucet into my mouth. It was hard to swallow anywherenear the amount it felt like my body needed. I started to gag and stopped, wiping the errant splashes from my face.
I made sure the car keys were on the desk as promised and then sat back down on the bed. I had lived in fear of this moment for so long, it seemed weird to not be running around the room in a screaming panic. I had been found out. Not only by my crazy stalker but by a person I had somehow, intentionally or not, let into my life. A person who was now thinking all sorts of horrible things about me—a person who right now could be running home and blowing the whole thing up.
I reached for my phone again. I knew he wouldn’t pick up if I called, so I texted.
Me:Please don’t tell anyone. Not yet.
Then I stared at the screen. Finally there were three dancing dots.
Dominic:Ok
That was it.
Me:I’m sorry
There was no response. TheOkwould have to do for now—a sliver of time to figure out my next move.
- - - - -
The next move wasbreakfast, or at least an attempt at breakfast. I had to get something into my stomach if I was ever going to survive the drive.
I headed back to Tastes of the Pacific and grabbed a seat at the bar like the lonely degenerate I was. I ordered one of the breakfastspecials and took small, delicate bites until I was interrupted by my phone ringing in my pocket. I pulled it out and put it down on the bar.
It was Elyse.
I stared at it. To answer or not.
“You gonna get that?” a guy a few seats over asked.
I glared at him. Obviously that was a decision I hadn’t arrived at.
“Well, reject it if you aren’t gonna answer it.”
I sighed and pushed the green button before lifting it to my ear.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi.”
Then we were both silent. It was her place to speak given she was the one to call, but words didn’t appear to be coming to her.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to make surewe’reokay?”
We had kissed and I had run out of there on some mission that had ended up exposing me and throwing everything into complete turmoil, but she had been back home, living her normal life, worried about it.
