CHAPTER 19
Idon’t remember falling asleep. One minute, I was staring at the cracked ceiling, replaying every sharp breath, every haunting moment of my beating. The next, I was out, dragged under by exhaustion.
When I woke, the room was dipped in that half-light between evening and night.
Soft shadows stretched long across the floor, rain still tapping at the window like a quiet knock, and her chilled hand on my chest. Resting there, light and still, fingers splayed over my ribs like she was making sure I was still breathing.
My first instinct was to tense, to say something cocky or deflect with a joke, but I didn’t.
I kept my breath steady, unsure if she knew I was awake.
Her touch moved, slow and deliberate. Tracing the edges of my bruises, following them with a kind of reverence that didn’t match the usual fire in her.
“What the fuck have you gotten yourself into, Screech?” she murmured. “As soon as you’re better, I’m gonna kick your ass.” My silent restraint started to falter. Something in me wanted to let her keep talking, to see what spilled out when she thought no one was listening.
“You pissed me off, you know,” Her hand stopped moving, just pressed flat against my skin. “Running like that. Leaving me in that car. I should have told them where to find you. Let them cage you up again. But I didn’t, did I. What is it about you?”
Her surprisingly practised hands redressed my stitches as she continued to mutter to herself. I watched for a moment before her eyes drifted towards mine, a smirk appearing on my face.
“You’re awake?” Pulling her hands back, her voice trembling with slight shock.
“Depends, on if you’re going to keep touching me like that,” my smirk widening to a smile. She rolled her eyes as she shifted herself, picking up her jacket from the floor. Her hand dug into her pocket, pulling out a strip of pain meds.
“Take two every four hours,” she said, giving me an assertive tone, dangling them in her hand before placing them next to me on the bed.
She lingered for a moment, eyes scanning my chest, before rising to her feet.
“I should go,” she said, with practised detachment. “I’ve got shit to do.”
The rain was still coming down hard outside. I could hear it battering the windows like fists on glass.
“Oh yeah? Got a meeting with the cops again? Planning to steal another vehicle?” Mocking her tentatively. She gave me a dry look, but I saw the twitch of her mouth threatening a smile.
“You’re really gonna go out in that?” I nodded toward the window, pulling myself up slightly before leaning back into the pillow, like I wasn’t half-struggling to keep my body from throbbing.
“Umm … yeah? I don’t really have a choice if I need to get home, moron.”
“You could always stay here.” I said, voice light.
“Tell you what, I’ll even let you snuggle in.
” Biting down on my bottom lip, holding back laughter.
It wasn’t until the words left me that I really understood what I was asking her.
It wasn’t out of loneliness; I was getting used to being here alone, just me and the ghost of Chester.
No, this was something else.
She snorted, “You fucking wish.”
I tilted my head towards her, “C’mon, Misfit. I’m injured,” giving her a playfully wounded look. “Would be cruel to leave me alone in my time of need.”
Her eyebrows raised to me, “Would it really?” She said, crossing her arms with one hip cocked. “Debatable.” She hesitated, gaze flicking toward the window once more. I let out a sigh, leaning back as I watched her inner turmoil unfold. She was just as conflicted at my offer as I was.
“Fine. Enjoy your walk in that then.” My eyes remained on her. The rain didn’t let up. It was late. The streets would be near empty. But even Misfit wasn’t dumb enough to believe nights like this didn’t hide worse things in the dark.
She sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically, “Fine. But if you snore, I’m out.”
I scoffed, “I don’t snore!”
“You talk in your sleep.”
“I only talk to beautiful criminals. You’re in luck.” She flipped me off half-heartedly and kicked her boots off with a grunt.
“Got anything I can wear?” Her eyes scanning the floor.
“What? Why?” Confusion spread across my face as she started picking up items off the floor, inspecting them.
“Um … I’m wet.” Gesturing down herself as her soaked clothes stuck to her body. I couldn’t resist myself; she had set me up perfectly, my smirk widening to a smile.
“Already? Didn’t even have to pull out my best moves yet, that’s impressive, even if I do say so myself.” Her expression flattened, completely unimpressed by my mockery.
“Fuck me, it’s gonna be a long night,” she continued to herself, but loud enough for me to hear.
“Usually, yeah. But not tonight, you’ve caught me when I’m feeling out of sorts.
” Gesturing down to my battered body. She remains expressionless as I jabbed once more, “I’m sorry to disappoint.
” I release a playful sigh, followed by laughter.
Moving more than I intended, I feel a sharp pain in my ribs, which cut me off.
“Ha! That’s what you get for thinking you’re funny.”
“Oh, c’mon, it was funny.”
“So do you have anything for me to wear or not?” she pressed. My eyes dropped to the floor, looking through my messy surroundings. There were plenty of options, but I was enjoying myself too much to stop this back-and-forth motion we had going on.
“Nope. Looks like you’re staying wet,” A mischievous glint in my eye. “Or you could always wear nothing?” I shrugged at her, accompanied by a smile. Ignoring my comment, she lowered herself, picking up item after item, examining its cleanliness with a disgusted face.
“Why are you holding it like it’s poisoned?” I chuckled.
“I dunno. Scared I might pick something up you’ve wiped your knob on or something.” That caught me off guard, causing laughter to start up again. I swear she was doing it on purpose to cause more pain as I winced.
“You’re disgusting,” my laughter trailing as she continued searching. It wasn’t until she picked up some of my boxer shorts that even I looked confused.
“You’re not serious?” After closer inspection, she placed them over her arm, holding one of my T-shirts close to her chest.
“Needs must, moron.” My eyes followed her as she walked towards the door. I knew she wouldn’t stay, but a part of me wanted her to. I knew that was a line we both weren’t going to cross, so playing with her in the meantime was going to have to be amusement enough.
“Oh, come on, Misfit! You saw me all battered up, we’re past modesty, aren’t we?”
Her voice echoed from the hall as a smile played on my lips. “No. We’re not.”
I scoffed, oddly enjoying myself in her presence. You never know, I may have just put the last nail in my coffin and invited a crazed killer to top me off while I slept. But that just filled me with an even bigger thrill than regret.
I drifted into my thoughts as I waited for her to return, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, listening to the harsh rain battering against the window. After a moment, she re-entered the bedroom, an air of awkwardness about her now, compared to her usual confident stance. She seemed nervous.
Did I make her feel nervous? Part of me was wondering if she even knew what being nervous was. I watched her as she moved to the other side of the bed, sitting down carefully, as if unsure of what the rules were now. A fleeting thought entered my mind of how adorable she looked in my clothes.
We didn’t speak for a few moments. Just lay there, the space between us charged and strange.
“You really want me to stay?” she said, like she couldn’t quite believe it. I glanced sideways at her, my voice quieter this time.
“Yeah,” my answer fell from my lips quicker than I imagined they would.
Her eyes lingered on me for a second before pulling them away.
She lowered herself, grabbing for her jacket, her hand fumbling into her pocket as she pulled out her phone.
I watched her thumb through a few screens, the pale glow of the device lighting up her face.
Settling on a name, ‘Seffy’, she hesitated for just a second before hitting the call button and bringing it to her ear.
“Hey, Sef, yeah, it’s me,” she said, tone already on edge.
I couldn’t hear much, just a faint voice on the other end, sharp and female. Not yelling but not exactly thrilled either.
“Uh, I’m not coming back tonight,” Misfit continued, shifting slightly on the bed. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” A pause. The voice on the other end rose a little, sharper now, like a warning bell.
“No … I’m not lying. Jesus, calm down.” Misfit rolled her eyes and let out a sigh that carried years of exhaustion.
“No! Look, I’m fine, okay? I’ll be back tomorrow.”
And then she hung up. She didn’t move for a second, her hand still gripping the phone a little too tightly. Her jaw was tight, like she was fighting the urge to throw it against the wall.
“Seffy?” I asked after a beat, careful not to sound like I was prying.
“That your parole officer?” She gave me a side-eye so sharp it could’ve sliced through bone.
“Funny.”
I raised my hands in mock surrender, “couldn’t help it.”
“She’s my…. Seffy,” she said, slipping the phone back into her pocket.
“You call your mum by her first name?” Confusion in my tone.
“Not my mum, don’t have one of those.”
“She take you in after juvie?” I asked.
Misfit shook her head. “No. Before. I was dumped in a care home when I was a baby. Parents bailed. Grew up there; Seffy showed up a couple of months before Juvie. I guess she decided I was… I dunno, worth saving or something.” Her voice had that hard edge again, the one she used when something was getting too close.
“She sounds like she’s a glutton for punishment then,” I said, trying to diffuse her armour.