Page 16 of Inevitable Destruction

The Essa girl abruptly bursts into laughter, the sound high-pitched and manic. She doubles over, grabbing at her midsection as she continues her weird fucking laughing. My lip curls even higher the longer she laughs.

It’s kind of fucking annoying, even more so with his arms curled around her protectively.

I don’t want him finding comfort in anyone—giving, or receiving. And here he is. Living his fucking life…

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” she asks breathlessly, and Jamie balks at her before fixing her expression to one of professionalism. I can only imagine what’s going through her head right now.

“Umm… Yeah, okay,” Jamie drawls, and I stifle my laugh. I’m never going to hear the end of this once we walk out of this room.

“I was saying your parents’ bodies were found and identified. Their house burnt to the ground with them trapped inside. The Portland Police Department declared their deaths accidental. Seems they found many different paraphernalia items inside the house that didn’t burn completely, and with their history of drug use, that’s how they ruled it. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The funniest part about that whole statement isn’t the fact that two dope heads died in a house fire, probably of their own making, but that Jamie seems genuinely apologetic. Like she actually cares.

I can’t imagine.

The girl snorts, the sound breaking the silence Jamie’s words brought to the room. “It’s not a loss,” the girl says. “But thanks for letting me know, I guess.” She shrugs and dismisses us both, walking to her bed without a backward glance. Clearly, the girl has some issues.

Jamie’s eyes dart to me, and I shrug. She knows I don’t really give a shit. I would’ve been happy walking in here, telling her that her parents are dead, and then walking out.

My eyes fall back to Dominik Reed still standing in the middle of the room, only to find his dark green gaze already locked on my face. I clench my jaw, the popping and grinding of my molars sounding through my head, amplifying my annoyance.

Images of my father’s bloody body flash through my mind. A picture for every possible angle, every ounce of blood, every wound, photographed in the clearest detail, all flooding my mind the longer Dominik is in my line of sight.

“Is there anything else you need?” That Essa girl’s voice shatters the volatile tension pulsing through the room, but I keep my gaze pinned to Dominik, although I can feel her glare flitting back and forth between Dominik and myself.

I’m not even sure he knows what the fuck is going on between us.

Though, I do wonder just how much he does know…

I remain silent, uncaring if it seems unusual, and Jamie takes the hint to speak for us both. “Uh, no. That was all. If we have any questions or any additional information, we’ll be sure to let you know.”

“All right; thanks,” she mumbles, and Jamie nods slightly, turning on her heels and exiting the room. I know I should follow her. I need to, but I can’t stop looking at him. Something that has been wound inconceivably tight inside of me has snapped, uncoiling at speeds so rapid, I have fucking whiplash.

“Dom,” Essa snaps at him, barking like a fucking dog, and he breaks our connection without second thought, seeking any and all attention she’ll throw at him.

Shit, maybe he is a fucking dog.

A low, rumbling growl bubbles up and escapes my mouth before I can think to stop it. As soon as the sound leaves me, I spin and exit the room, slamming the door behind me. I have to tell my brain to make my fingers fucking uncurl from the goddamn doorknob so I can leave this Godforsaken place.

It fucking stinks like a hospital in here.

When I lift my head, I see Jamie at the end of the hall, her back against the wall as she waits for me. Yanking my hand away from the door, I make my way to her, running my hands through my hair, tugging the strands as I do.

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” Jamie asks as I come up beside her, and together, we walk out of the building to the cruiser. She jumps in the driver’s seat while I lean against the passenger door. I pull a cigarette out and flick my zippo, watching the flame flicker in the wind as I bring it to the end, lighting it and inhaling as deep as I fucking can, but it doesn’t do anything but make me fucking antsy.

Rain drizzles from the sky, dampening my hair and my shoulders as I smoke, not pausing for more than ten seconds between each lungful. When it’s gone, I take it over to the dispenser and push the butt in the small plastic tube. I’m in my uniform, after all. Can’t be caught littering.

Once I’m back in the car, fully damp and just as frustrated, if not more, I slam my seat belt into the latch and yank it away from my chest, immediately feeling restricted.

“What’s up with you, Rhett? What was that? I saw the way you were looking at him…”

“It wasn’t shit, Jame.” My lie is blatant, even to my own ears. I need space and a way to clear my head.

* * *

I swayon my stool as I’m pulled back to the now, the lights and the pulsing music louder than ever in my ears. I can feel my blood pumping through my veins, slowly but gradually ensuring I’m alive and feeling every fucking ounce of pain, every memory.

Even the ones I would much rather forget.

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