Page 22 of Forgiving Fate

Landon

Kansas. The most boringstate in America.

It feels like we have been driving for days on end when we have only been in the state for less than an hour.

The road trip that started off being from fucking hell has been smooth sailing since we left Allie’s hometown. A series of drive for hours, stop at a hotel, make sure the clerk isn’t a psychotic asshat, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again the next day.

The only issue being sleep. That term has taken on a new meaning the past year, but has really reared its ugly head since meeting Allie. When I offered driving back, I didn’t stop to think how it would affect my…habits.

They have made me on edge, thus causing me no sleep. Then add on the idiotic hotel clerks, the stress of my brothers, and the constant helplessness I feel around Allie—sleep is basically nonexistent.

Not that I was getting much back home anyway, but at least there, I could disappear into the safety of my home. At home, no one is there to notice me breaking apart at the seams and letting the voices inside my head win.

Ever since we left Alabama, Allie has been quiet. Even more than before. I expected her to ask me questions, but she hasn’t.

Not that I blame her. After the hotel incident, then the disaster that asshole left her room in, she has every right to shut down. Part of me wishes that I could have stopped her from going inside, but she needed to say goodbye. I have no idea how her parents passed, but if it is anything close to what runs through my head of whathedid to her, I bet it wasn’t quick and painless.

Glancing over at Allie, I see her leaning her head against the window, staring at the gloomy sky above. Guilt rears its ugly head in the form of fire, heating me from the inside out.

She wouldn’t have gone through one of those things if you hadn’t been so busy with your own shit.

Fuck. Not now. I beg the voices to shut up, but they are screaming louder and louder.

I need a drink.

No, I don’t.

Yes, you do.

“Shut up.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Allie move and when my eyes meet hers, I freeze. I quickly avert my gaze back to the road.

Shit. I must have said those words out loud, and now she thinks I just told her to shut up when she has been silent for hours.

Way to fucking go, Landon.

I brush my hand up and down my thigh and sneak a glance at Allie. Her gaze has moved back to staring out the window.

“Um. Sorry. That wasn’t directed at you. It was—yeah. Sorry.” I keep my eyes locked on the road ahead of me. I don’t want to watch the reaction on her face. She probably thinks I’m a damn psycho.

The minutes tick by like hours and the long straightaway through farmland extending for miles in every direction causes me to get lost in the monotony.

My mind takes on one of its own and no matter how hard I try to focus on the soft rain hitting the windshield, I keep seeing them.

I see the faces of the ones where we were minutes too late. The ones where I got so lost in the guilt that it hindered me from saving the ones that needed help in the present. I see the ones that we made it to, but not fast enough. I see the life drain from their eyes. I hear the cries of their parents as I tell them that their children are gone at the hands of a cruel monster.

The rain grows harder on the windshield, but it does nothing to drown out the voices.

I need a drink.

No, I don’t.

A gust of wind hits the car, and my grip tightens on the wheel. This is nothing compared to the torrential downpours in Washington.

The rain grows harder. The voices grow louder. The fire inside my veins grows into a blazing inferno.

I am so lost in my head that when the next big wind gust hits the car, it scares the shit out of me, causing me to practically jump out of my seat.

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