Be Quiet and Drive

40) Running

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

"You're lying." I say, although part of me knows he isn't. Plus, why would Charlie lie about that?

"I'm sorry, Y/n. It was on Friday, peacefully, in her sleep." Charlie rubs his thumb across my hand. Michael covers his mouth with his hand, and Rem stays still in place, his head tilted down.

"But..." I feel numb. "But I haven't seen her in months. I didn't get to say goodbye."

The boys exchange glances, each of them looking guilty.

I wipe a tear from my cheek, getting up and walking out of the room and around the corner to the front door. I try the handle, and the door fucking swings open. When did I stop trying?

I step out and begin sprinting down the road. I don't care if they follow me. I just keep running despite the knot in my throat and the dryness of my mouth. I had become so complacent that they felt comfortable leaving the door unlocked.

I'm a terrible daughter. I was never there for her, the way she was there for me. Now, she's dead, and I wasn't even sitting next to her.

The sound of a car engine echoes down the road. I take a quick glance behind me, but I can't see anything yet. I duck into the woods, having to slow down slightly due to the dense lining of the trees.

I don't even know where I'm going.

༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻

I look down at my feet, red soreness hidden by dirt. I've hit town; god knows how long I've been running. I stick my hand out, calling a bus. It's only a short journey to my flat. I must look insane. I'm dishevelled, hair all crazy and no shoes.

Everything is so fucked up. I can't believe I've made it this far, but what now? They can track me. I sit down and look out the window. What's the point anyway? My life has been thrown so far off the tracks that it would feel wrong to re-enter society.

I reach up and feel the chip under my skin, squeezing my fingers around it to feel the quare shape better. I could try and cut it out. Let's be honest, though. I'm too scared to do that, and maybe I want to be found. I don't know what I'm doing.

I press the button and hop off the bus, walking calmly to my apartment building. I hesitate, seeing one of Michael's cars parked in front of it. I ignore it, heading in, jogging up the stairs, and approaching my door. I reach up to the top of the door frame, feeling for my spare key, but there's nothing. There's not even any dust.

Hearing something inside, I press my ear to the door. It sounds like three or four lads chatting and laughing about something.

I push back and rub my face, deciding it's best to head back downstairs. I can't help but wonder what Michael said to my landlord, how he explained my disappearance.

I feel dejected but still angry. As I exit, I see Rem leaning against the hood of the car. He was here before I arrived, so he doesn't even need the tracker to find me. He just knows me that well. Not even I knew where I was going when I first left.

"Why?" The simple word sounds anything but simple. My throat tears and my voice cracks. I'm still partially out of breath, which makes me sound more pathetic. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Rem sighs, pushing himself up to approach me carefully. His hands sit comfortably in his pockets. "We wanted to protect you. Nothing would have made this pill easy to swallow for you."

I hold his gaze. "I believe you, but I think you need to tell me the whole truth."

"We'd have lost leverage over you. The threat of your mother's death made you cooperative, and we didn't want to sabotage that." He finally admits, calm as I've ever seen him, his hair fluffy and his face kind as always. "You don't really care enough about anything else."

"Yeah." I scoff, looking off to the side. "You've taken everything else."

"You must know how we all feel about you? We want to give you everything we have to offer."

"Why me?" I feel my knees start to collapse, my legs shaking as I curl in on myself.

He looks me up and down and then holds out a hand for me to take. "Are you ready to come home now?"

Home... I sigh and take his hand, allowing him to guide me to the passenger seat. As I get in, he covers the back of my head, making sure I don't hit it, a romantic gesture of care, but I feel like a prisoner getting into a police car.

He crouches down, a hand gently placed on my thigh. "We'll order in tonight. Anything you want."

I nod and lean back, resting my head. I watch as he walks around the car and gets in the drivers seat, turning the key and putting it into first gear. I wait until we set off to say anything. "How did you know I'd come here?"

"I just know you." He shrugs, glancing over at me for a second before he focuses back on the road.

That's pretty much what I was expecting. It feels comforting, though, in a peculiar way. Maybe none of this is as bad as I thought.