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I shed a few tears before telling myself to get my shit together and persevere, doing whatever I had to do to keep myself alive.
I knew I’d eventually figure it all out, because I always figured it out, regardless of how much of a fucking mess my head was.
Speaking of deceitful.
“Cali, you have to talk to me sooner or later. This is childish,” Tito grumbled.
“Oh, I didn’t realize being used by everyone you know was child’s play.”
“I just saved your life,” he scoffed.
Pausing midstride, I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling in a deep breath and slowly letting it back out through my mouth. I whirled around to face off with him, and he wisely took a step back.
“You stabbed me. I could have been eaten by a fucking cannibal because of you!
“You sent Simon after me, the same guy who wouldn’t be able to find his dick if it wasn’t attached to him.
“He’s dead now, by the way. I’m positive he felt every piece of his skin tearing from his body as he was dragged behind a car before his head disconnected from the rest of him. If he’d been made to talk, that could have easily gotten me killed on the spot.
“You shoved me off a goddamn bridge. And before you say anything, no, I was not going to jump. My brain kicked in and reminded me that I don’t know how to fucking swim.”
He didn’t say anything to defend his actions, which only irritated me further.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Doesn’t it almost seem like you’ve been trying to kill me far more than you’ve been trying to help me?” With a shake of my head, I turned away and continued walking.
Did the guy want a trophy for preventing me from drowning? I could still feel the harsh impact of my body breaking through the chilled water before I got a mouthful of it in my lungs.
If I had died from his pathetic attempt at playing superhero, I would’ve risen from the dead and came back to devour his shitty soul.
I pushed through the thick overgrowth, blocking out the asshole behind me, doing my best not to focus on the hunger pains cramping my stomach so badly I was damn near light headed, and ignoring how filthy I was.
There wasn’t an inch of my ghostly pale skin not covered in sweat or grime. The blood from the man I’d gutted with a broken beer bottle stained my clothes and caked beneath my nails with a layer of dirt. I’d completely given up on the rat's nest sitting on the side of my head in a frizzy braid.
I longed for a shower, a bed, and warm food. Physically, I knew I could push myself beyond the fumes I was utilizing to stay mobile for just a little while longer. Mentally, I didn’t know where to begin.
Feelings were severely overrated.
If someone offered to cut my withering heart out from my chest, I’d happily draw the dot
ted line for the incision. The stupid thing had only ever caused me problems and I couldn’t deal with any woe-is-me bullshit at the moment.
“Cali, look mamas, we have to figure out what we’re going to do.”
Did he just say we?
I faced him again with a glare, breathing heavily from exertion.
“There is no we, Tito. How can you stand there and pretend everything is fine between us? I told you to stop following me days ago.”
“Look, I know things look bad, but they could be worse.”
“Things look bad? Everything is fucked! We’ve been living like wild animals for the past two weeks.
If you’ve already forgotten, let me remind you that I killed a man with a beer bottle and you nearly pissed yourself.”
“He was just trying to survive. Like we were–are. And I did not almost piss myself.”
“He was trying to rob us, you dumbass, and you just stood there shaking like a goddamn leaf; pissing wouldn’t be far behind that. His gun wasn’t even loaded.” I smirked. “It’s okay T, we both know my balls have always been bigger than yours.”
