Page 157 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“Why? So he could rat us out? When I came in here, he was dangling out the fucking window. The little mutt bastard almost escaped without us even knowing he was in here at all!”

Mutt?What does that mean? I’m not a dog. Why would he say that?

“There’s so much evidence, anyway... Tristian, the living room looks like a fucking murder scene! It doesn’t look like alcohol poisoning!”

I stop thinking about what Tristian called me. Now all I can think of is murder. Peter being murdered. I can’t breathe. I can’t catch my breath.

“WHAT?” I yell. “NO! You... YOU KILLED PETER, HAYLEY?”

Tristian ignores me and grabs hold of my ankles tightly. He starts tying them together.

“Danny—” she says.

“You BITCH! You disgusting BITCH! I HATE YOU! I’ve always HATED YOU!”

Hayley stares at me. Her jaw is quivering like she’s freezing, but it’s fucking hot as hell in this apartment. She turns away toward Tristian.

“Such a sweet boy,” Tristian says as he finishes the knots around my ankles. “That should hold him for a while.”

Suddenly Hayley’s on the ground, screaming. She covers her ears. Her screams are way louder than the music playing. Christmas music isn’t that intense.

“STOP! Stop it! What are you doing?” Tristian pulls his phone out of his pocket, skipping through songs until something loud and weird starts playing.

She keeps on screaming. She screams, louder and louder, until she chokes. Tristian shoves everything back into his pocket. He picks her up around her stomach and pulls her out of my room. Hayley’s shrieking, wailing, and kicking, but she’s no match for him either. None of us were. Tristian slams the door behind them.

Hayley

TRISTIAN RIPS ME OUTof Danny’s room. I keep screaming as loudly as possible. Oh, God...my throat. Please, someone, hear my screams already and call the police!

I kick and punch, trying to get free. As I’m dragged into the living room, I see Peter still lying on the ground. His eyes have rolled to the back of his head. He’s shaking violently.

No, no, no. no.

“Peter! PETER!” I sob, gagging on my saliva. “No!”

“Don’t look at him. Shut up!”

“You didn’t say this would happen. You didn’t say any of this would happen! You let it get to your head. You got your revenge. Let me go. I can’t breathe!”

“I’m sorry that you thought a murder was going to be rainbows and roses, you dumb bitch!” He drops me onto the floor.

The room is getting smaller and smaller. My ears are ringing. Tristian is saying something, but I don’t know what. He’s holding his head. Suddenly, the ringing stops and my hearing comes back. In fact, I hear sirens! I see lights. Cop car lights! We’re going to jail! We’re going to prison forever! I feel relieved. Maybe someone can help Peter. I wouldn’t be a good mother, anyway, and everyone knows he’s a good dad.

“The police are here! HELP! HELP!” I scream.

“What are you talking about?”

“The sirens! The lights! HELP!”

“There’s no one here! There’s no sirens! There’s no lights!” Tristian says, but he’s wrong. I see them through the window. I run over and start pounding on the glass.

“HELP!”

Tristian grabs me around the waist again. I turn to look at him. Snot is running into my mouth. It tastes salty on my tongue. I try to break free from his hold, shimmying and shaking. I claw and bite his arms.

“I can’t do this! I can’t fucking do this! You’re making this harder than it has to be!” Tristian says.

“Tristian, the police are HERE!”

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