AllFreeNovel
Share Us
For a second his words cut me like glass shards. I’m not crazy enough to believe that we were bonding or anything, but I did think that my plan to make myself more human to him was working. I even thought maybe we were cool, and he somehow understood me.
Although Trina has been my bestie since forever, she has no idea the demons I fight daily. No one does. Well, except Gabriel. He has been the first person since my daddy died that has ever truly listened to me. I thought maybe that meant something. I guess I’m an idiot or maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome.
I lower my head ready to give up the fight. Then a thought hits me. Gabriel is doing exactly what I do when someone is trying to get too close. Usually, I fuck things up. Like, try to cook on a stove knowing damn well I’m too high. One of my rehab councilors called it self-sabotage.
“Fine. You want me to be your silent victim. We can do that.”
I start walking even though I have no idea where we’re going. This could very well backfire on me. Despite what he said, I think he has enjoyed my talking all this time. So, going silent could speed up his ire and cause him to strangle me. However, it’s worth the risk.
Gabriel walks past me taking the lead. We walk about four blocks in complete silence. It’s probably harder on me than it is him. I’m a talker.
I no longer stand beside him when we stop at crosswalks either. I make sure to put about six feet of distance between us. At the fourth crosswalk, Gabriel sighs.
“She’s still alive.”
I don’t allow any outward change to appear on my face. I keep it cool and stay stoic. However, inside I’m cheesing hard. Keeping my gaze locked on the red hand sign across the street, I remain silent.
“Every day I ask myself why I haven’t killed her yet,” he admits.
His hand tightens into a fist down at his side. This is a hard topic for him. The way his breathing sounds labored and the veins protruding in his forearms are clear indications he’s uncomfortable.
I wrap my hand around his fist. He loosens his grip. I slide my fingers in between his. He looks down at where our hands interlock but doesn’t comment. It’s a bold move. Not sure if I did it because I’m still trying to survive the night, or if I did it just because I know he needed it.
“Why haven’t you killed her?”
My goal was to stay silent. I planned to let him get it off his chest at his own pace, but I want to know the answer to that. He is more than capable of killing his mother. The man is a trained assassin. There has to be more to the reason he hasn’t done the deed.
“I don’t know,” he admits.
That’s a lie. I think he does know, and he just doesn’t want to admit it. Maybe it’s because at the end of the day, despite how awful our parents can be and how they can fuck us up royally, they’re still our parents. No matter how hard we try to not be bothered or to get their hurtful words out of our heads, we are still children needing the love of our parents.
I know there’s nothing I can do to make my mother love me. She has said on multiple occasions that I’m the worst thing that ever happened to her.
Even before I became her problematic druggy daughter, I was always the misbehaving child. The one that hardly sat still, the one that asked all the questions and liked to get dirty. It’s why my father and I bonded so well. I was like him. My mother has always hated that about me, and yet, I still long for her love.
“Well, if you kill me, maybe I can come back and haunt her for you,” I say to lighten the mood a little.
My comment has those pale green eyes looking down at me with a smirk.
“Maybe,” he says.
The little walking symbol appears on the sign giving us the right of way. Before I go to step off the curb, the loud sound of rap music has me looking to the left.
A large black SUV pulls up to the light. My heart skips a few beats and then starts to race in my chest. My belly fills with rocks and my limbs refuse to move.
It’s him. I know it’s him. I want to run and hide but I can’t get my body to respond. Eventually the light turns green, and the SUV speeds off down the street.
Finally, I can breathe and my heart stops dancing in my chest. When I look up, Gabriel is staring at me suspiciously. He then turns in the direction the black SUV went. I swear this man doesn’t miss anything.
“We should go,” I say, before he starts asking questions.
He inclines his head, and we cross the street. Despite the red hand on the crosswalk telling us not to.
chapter Eleven
Last Hit
Summer
