16. Daniel
Chapter sixteen
Daniel
Ghost Town
A s the hours tick by, Becca is nowhere to be found. I pace relentlessly, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
My heart races as I pace back and forth, trying to understand why I feel so anxious for her.
I tell myself I don't care about her, but my head shakes in disagreement. Confusion swirls around me, like a thick fog, clouding my true feelings for Becca.
My head pounds with confusion and anxiety as Iz's words echo in my mind - Becca was released. But where is she now? Has something happened to her?
Every minute feels like an eternity as my heart wrenches in uncertainty and dread.
As my dad enters the kitchen, his footsteps heavy and burdened, he shakes his head in frustration. I can see the worry etched into every line of his face.
"Her father said he gave her the keys to her car and a letter," he says, his voice full of concern. "But he wouldn't tell me what it was about."
Deliah's lips twist in anger. "Well, that's just bullshit. That letter could hold the key to all of this."
My dad nods in agreement, his brows furrowed with worry. "He also mentioned Becca and her mother had another fight..."
I groan and look up from my seat at the kitchen table. "Again?"
My mom joins us at the table, her expression curious. "What do you mean, again?"
With a sigh, I shift in my chair. "Becca and her mom have never gotten along. And I have a feeling... no, I know. I know her mother gets violent with her."
Tears start to well up in my mom’s eyes and my dad wraps an arm around her for comfort. "She'll show back up, I'm sure."
My mom looks at my dad with anger and hate blazing in her eyes. "I swear to god, if anything happens to her because of that woman..."
He nods understandingly. "I know, sweetheart."
Delilah suddenly pulls out her phone and starts typing furiously. "She just posted on GlossX!"
I rush over to see what she's talking about and see a photo of Becca standing in front of a vending machine at a nearby truck stop. I curse under my breath and immediately stand up.
"I know where she is. I'll be back."
Without wasting another second, I rush out to my car and drive down there. But as I pull into the truck stop, I don't see her car anywhere.
Strange… Did I miss her?
I park and head inside, hoping and praying that somebody can give me answers.
Sitting at a lone table is the same truck driver who threatened me. Sucking it up, I walk over with my head held high.
“Hey! Where’s Becca?”
He looks up with tears in his eyes. “She uh, just left.”
“To where?!”
The cashier comes over and gently places her hand on my shoulder. “She left to find Katya. It’s what she needs.”
I slowly sink down into the booth, unsure of what to feel.
The truck driver glances over at me, his expression weighted with concern. "She needs to find her," he says in a low voice.
I nod, trying to mask the conflicting emotions churning inside of me.
He lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes shifting between the road and my face. "Look... Liz and I have gotten to know Becca pretty well.”
"Great," I mumble sarcastically.
But deep down, I know it's not great. It's devastating. My mind races as I try to process the anger, fear, and hurt that are all fighting for dominance within me.
And then a realization hits me like a ton of bricks: despite everything, I care for Becca on some twisted level. Our sick, depraved minds understand each other in a way that no one else ever could. It makes no sense, but I can't deny it any longer.
Liz slowly lowers herself onto the chair, her eyes filled with sorrow. "Jim is right," she breathes. "It hurts to let her go, but Becca needs to do this journey on her own."
Frustrated, I slam my fist against the table. "Who said I wanted to go with her?" My voice echoes through the quiet room.
Liz stumbles over her words, trying to find a way to explain herself. "I... I just..."
Shaking my head in disbelief, I stand up from the table and pace back and forth. "You've got it all wrong," I say through gritted teeth.
Jim gives me a knowing smile, as if he understands something that I don't. "Sure it is," he says sarcastically. "You don't care about her, so that's why you're here looking for her."
My anger boils over. "I'm here looking for her, so my mom stops crying," I retort. "Becca didn't think of that, did she? She just up and left, leaving all of us... all of you behind. She's a selfish bitch." The bitterness in my voice is palpable as I struggle to hold back tears of frustration and hurt.
My phone vibrates, and I fumble to answer it while rushing out of the noisy truck stop.
My mom's voice floods my ears through the car's speakers.
“Have you found her?”
"She's gone. On a plane to Florida."
I can hear my mother choke back her cry. “Oh, sweetheart. Come on home.”
The reality of Becca's impulsive decision hits me like a ton of bricks. I hang up without saying anything and inhale deeply, trying to steady my emotions.
How could she just leave us all behind for a wild hunch?
How could she be so selfish to leave behind the people who care for her the most?
My fists clench in frustration as I turn on the ignition and stare out at the dark highway stretching ahead. Anger, hurt, sadness, confusion - they all swirl inside me as I drive home alone.
As I step through the threshold of my house, my eyes are immediately drawn to the group gathered in the living room. My family sits alongside Becca's father, his presence like a thorn in my side. My gaze hardens as I remember how he had given Becca the false hope that Katya was still alive out there somewhere.
My mother approaches me, her kind eyes filled with sympathy. "It's okay," she whispers.
But I can't bring myself to believe her. I pull away and slump onto the couch, feeling heavy with emotion. Becca's father stands up, a guilty look on his face.
"Danny, I'm sorry she left you so suddenly. I didn't expect her to rush off like that."
I sneer at him, my anger bubbling to the surface. "You knew," I accuse. "You knew that Becca had never let go of Katya. You gave her those letters, you gave her the note. You knew it would fuel her obsession!"
In an instant, I am standing toe to toe with him, unafraid. My emotions are a tangled mess - anger, sadness, betrayal. I need an outlet for all of it. I need to feel pain. To escape from this overwhelming reality.
I need to feel Becca’s body under mine…
Her father's eyes bore into mine, his face twisted with anger and pain. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he seethes. "You don't know the depths of my suffering."
With a forceful shove, I stumble backwards, my father rushing over to intervene. His voice is calm but concerned as he tries to diffuse the tension.
“Okay, let’s just all take a deep breath here.”
But I can't let it go. A sinister smile spreads across my face, fueled by the physical and emotional agony that consumes me. The pain it numbs everything else. It's a shield, protecting me from the overwhelming grief and anger coursing through my veins.
"It doesn't matter, Dad!" I shout at him, turning to address the rest of my family in the room. "Becca is gone and there's nothing we can do about it!" My words are laced with bitterness and resentment. "She never cared about us, anyway. We were just pawns in her twisted game."
The weight of our loss hangs heavy in the air, each person in the room grappling with their own emotions. But for me, it's all drowned out by the unrelenting pain that claws at my chest. At this moment, it's all-consuming and all that matters.
I angrily storm out of the room, my feet stomping heavily on the floor as I make my way to my bedroom. My bong sits invitingly on my desk, and I grab it with a sense of satisfaction. As I step out onto my balcony, I am hit with a sudden wave of emotion that feels like all the air has been sucked out of me.
It's a feeling that is unfamiliar yet strangely addicting.
The warm smoke fills my lungs and slowly spreads throughout my body, easing the tension and calming my racing thoughts. With each exhale, the high washes over me like a wave, numbing my emotions and bringing a sense of peace. But deep down, I know this temporary escape won't solve the turmoil within me.
Grabbing my phone, I shoot a text to Ryan.
Yo, man. Becca is gone. Ran off on some wild goose chase to find that old nanny, Katya.
Oh.
Yeah. Everybody is upset.
Are you?
I let the question hang in the air, like a heavy cloud waiting to burst.
Am I upset that she left? Am I upset that she left to find Katya, the mysterious figure who had raised her?
Or am I upset with the fact that Becca had vanished without so much as a goodbye?
The realization hits me like a tidal wave crashing against the shore - I have developed feelings for her. Feelings that are now tangled and jumbled, twisted into knots of confusion and hurt.
As I stand there, my mind racing with memories and emotions, each one vying for my attention like a flock of birds fighting over breadcrumbs.
Yea.
Sooo… you care about her.
Fuck no. It’s not like that.
Ryan sends the laughing emoji back, then adds Iz to the chat.
Ry: Iz hates Bella but cares about her.
Iz: No, the fuck I don’t.
I can’t help but let a small smile spread across my face. I’ve missed my friends.
X pops into the chat after Ryan adds him.
Ry: X used to hate Penny, but still cared about her.
X: Fuck yeah, I did. Though, it was never hate. More so heavy dislike because of my own fucked up brain and heart.
Ryan adds Kaiden to the chat.
Kaid: I hated Cat. But goddamn, did I want to fuck her.
Iz: just like Ryan hates Ally but is a simp for her.
Ry: Fuck off.
Kaid: All three of you assholes need to just own up to the fact that you’ve caught feelings for the girl you hate. We’re all fucked up in our own ways. That darkness that lives inside of us it doesn’t love like a normal heart. We crave that violence. It needs the hurt to feel.
X: Penny drives me up the fucking wall. But when she’s in my arms, everything just feels calm. It makes no sense, but I’ve stopped questioning it. Just let it happen, man.
I don’t like her. I don’t want to fuck her.
Ry: Lie. You already have. You loved it and now you’re sucked into her depraved siren call.
Not. Like. That.
Kaid: You’ll soon realize it. Call me if you need to talk.
I slowly lower my phone onto the coffee table, its screen still glowing with notifications. As I take another hit from the bong, I can feel the smoke filling my lungs and washing away any lingering thoughts. My mind drifts to Kaid and X's conversation earlier, questioning whether what I have with Becca is love.
I shake my head in response, a cloud of smoke escaping my lips.
No, this isn't love. It can't be.
Sure, Becca elicits powerful emotions within me, physically and mentally. Her attractiveness is undeniable, and I can't deny the sensations she ignited within me when we fucked.
But deep down, I know this isn't love.
At least, that's what my rational mind tells me...
A week has passed and still, there is no sign of Becca. Her social media accounts have gone dark, leaving behind an eerie void. My heart feels heavy and numb as I try to navigate through the days without her.
My heart races as I pull into the familiar driveway after a long day at school. As I approach the house, my eyes immediately lock onto Becca's car, parked on the side of the garage.
A wave of emotions crashes over me - surprise, excitement, and apprehension all mingling together.
Is she really back?
My mind races with a million questions and possibilities as I step out of my car and make my way towards the front door, my heart pounding in anticipation.
My feet carry me towards Becca's bedroom, a small flicker of hope pushing me forward.
What if she's finally returned?
I come to a halt in the hallway, feeling a wave of emotions crash over me.
Will she just leave again? What if she found Katya after all this time?
Anger begins to bubble up inside me.
She abandoned you, Danny. Left you without a second thought. She's only using you.
Shaking my head, I reach for the doorknob and cautiously enter Becca's room. The air feels heavy and stagnant, like it's been trapped in here for years. Yet, it’s only been a week.
As I raise my gaze, I am met with the sight of Becca sitting in the center of her bed. Her once bright eyes now appear dull and tired, weighed down by heavy bags that have taken residence underneath them.
She looks so different from before. Thin and frail, her skin lacking its usual healthy glow. It's as if she has been hollowed out, leaving behind only a shell of who she once was. Broken and defeated, Becca sits there like a wounded butterfly waiting to be healed.
My words catch in my throat as our eyes meet, the weight of unresolved feelings between us heavy in the air.
"Hello, Danny," she whispers.
But anger quickly takes hold of me.
"Why the fuck are you here?" I demand, my voice trembling with emotion.
She meets my gaze, her own eyes holding a mix of determination and vulnerability that I can't quite place. "We need to talk.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and stalk into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
How fucking dare she?
Becca thinks she can just waltz back into this home and demand that we have a conversation? My mind reels with feelings shallowly buried, but I refuse to let her see any of it. Not this time. Not ever.
The door to my room creaks open and Becca steps inside, her expression grave. The air immediately thickens with tension as she speaks.
"We need to talk, Danny."
I sneer, my anger boiling over as I storm towards her. She instinctively backs until her back hits the wall, but her eyes never leave mine. We are now face to face, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.
"There is nothing to talk about, Rebecca ," I spit out her name like a curse.
But she doesn't back down. Instead, she stands her ground and moves closer until we are practically nose to nose.
"Yes, we do, Daniel," she asserts firmly, her gaze unwavering.
“No, we don’t! Get the fuck out of my face!”
I shove her away, my frustration boiling over. I turn my back to her, trying to control my anger.
But Becca's voice cuts through my rage, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t find her…”
I slowly turn to face her, seeing the defeated look in her eyes. Her shoulders are slumped and there's a palpable sense of failure coming from her.
My anger rises like a storm within me. I stalk toward her, my steps heavy and purposeful. As I close in, I watch as her eyes fill with fear, mixed with determination and anger. But beneath it all, there's a hint of something else... something vulnerable.
With one swift motion, I wrap my fingers around her throat, exerting just enough pressure to show her who's in control. Her body tenses and her breath quickens, but still she meets my gaze defiantly.
I lower my voice to a menacing growl and speak into her ear. "I don't give a fuck, Rebecca. I don't care if you found Katya or goddamn Jesus. You are nothing to me." I pull back slightly, keeping my grip on her throat firm. "What I do care about is the fact that you walked out on everybody who cares about you! Jim, Liz, and even my mother. Do you know how worried she was?"
Becca stumbles over her words, trying to justify her actions. "I... I just thought..."
"You didn't think," I cut her off sharply. "You ran off on some whim, all for your own selfish desires." The disgust in my voice is palpable.
She shakes her head, desperation evident in her eyes. "But Liz and Jim bought me the plane ticket. They knew."
"So my mother can just be tossed away? Your friends were just pawns in your game? Like my family?" I demand, my grip tightening.
Becca's gaze softens, and she whispers, her eyes looking up to meet mine. "And what about you?"
The vulnerability in her tone catches me off guard and for a moment, I feel a twinge of guilt for my harsh words.
But then I remember all the pain and worry she has caused, and my anger reignites.
"What about me?" I snap, releasing her throat with a shove. "You didn't give a fuck about me when you left."
Becca's sigh is like a gust of wind, filled with regret and exhaustion. I step back, feeling the weight of her words hanging between us.
"I figured as much," she says hesitantly. "Look, I did a lot of thinking while I was gone. There are some... situations that popped up."
My blood boils at her nonchalance. A deep anger rises from within my dark soul.
"Good for you," I snap, my voice laced with bitterness and hurt. "Save your thinking for somebody else. Because me? I don't fucking care anymore. I hate you and you hate me. Get the fuck out of my face, Becca. Get the fuck out of my room. Get the fuck out of my life."
With a violent pull, I yank open my door and storm down the steps, not wanting to see another second of her lying face.
My mother rushes past me, exclaiming over Becca's return as she envelops her in a hug.
"Oh, my gosh! Delilah! She's back!"
I feel sick to my stomach as I watch them embrace. Becca smiling warmly and holding onto my mom like she didn't just tear our family apart. Without a word, I storm out of the house and get into my car, speeding down the driveway without looking back.
I can't be near Becca right now. Just the thought of her makes my anger boil over again. The betrayal is too fresh, too raw.
I end up at the same goddamn truck stop, parking behind a row of massive trucks. Switching off the engine, I finally let myself feel all the emotions coursing through me.
It's all too much to handle - losing Daisy, watching my family fall apart, and falling for Becca against all odds. And then seeing her come back and rip us apart once again.
I don't know what to do or how to deal with any of it. All I know is that I've fallen for Becca, and denying it any longer is no longer an option.