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I take a huge breath in and roll my head off King’s shoulder, letting it hang over his arm, my neck extending as my head falls back and hangs lifelessly.
Like Puck.
King picks up the pace when I hear a faint noise, like a car alarm, in the background. At least that’s what I think it sounds like muffled amongst the rain.
I close my eyes and let the heavy pelts of rain and the swaying of King’s strides overtake me. My arms flail out to the side, my whole body a dead weight, motionless and falling, and if it wasn’t for King’s hold, I would’ve dropped to the floor.
Suddenly, I’m thrown sideways and into the back of a car, the leather seats sliding under me as my wet body crashes onto them. I lie there, breathless, like I was in King’s arms, just looking at the top of the car. The roof is matte black.
“For fuck’s sake, Theo.” I hear a mumble before my arms are hauled up and I’m sitting upright in the seat. King reaches across me and fastens the seat belt, slamming the door and running around the bonnet to jump into the driver’s seat.
My eyes flicker around, my teeth chattering as the cold sinks in, and King mumbles something again, but I don’t hear it. I just watch him fidget, trying to escape from his suit jacket.
King turns in his seat and drapes the wet blazer across me, then turns on the heat full blast and revs the engine.
My teeth finally stop chattering and my clothes are drying from the heated seats. My cheeks are still wet, but I’m no longer crying.
I’m numb.
I’m numb and broken.
And as I look out the car window and watch the raindrops race downward, I realise the sky is now crying for me because I no longer can.
* * *
We drivefor what feels like hours, but I can’t remember what time it was on the dash before King drove away from the huge brick building in the middle of nowhere that was my home for almost five months.
My head has stayed glued to the window the whole way, my eyes heavy but refusing to sleep, only closing every now and then to slowly blink. But I’ve been trying to avoid it because every time my eyes close, I see him lying on the floor, covered in his blood.
His blood that coats my hands, my hair, my clothes.
King has tried to talk to me a few times, but I never heard what he said and he gave up after so many attempts.
His jacket, now dry, still sits in the same position, draped over my front, my hands limp in my lap. On every output of breath, the window fogs, then it disappears as quickly as it arrived, only to appear again on my next breath.
The rain has let up, but the clouds are still grey, getting heavier again, ready for their next downpour and waiting for the right moment.
The car turns around a corner and it stops in front of two huge iron gates surrounded by a white brick wall on either side. Vines decorate the bars, reaching up and coiling around each one.
The gates open automatically and the car rolls forward, the gravel crunching satisfyingly underneath the tyres. The long driveway stretches down to a huge mansion, much like the white walls surrounding the place, and a large, beautiful round fountain sits in front of the grand steps leading into the house. A fountain that quite recently I’d allowed myself to remember.
A huge sigh escapes my mouth, the condensation fogging up the whole window. The car stops outside the house, in the exact same spot my father’s car had stopped all those years ago.
Up until recently, I haven't thought much about mine and King’s first meeting. But since he’s invaded my life once more, it’s all I’ve thought about. That and the few occasions after before he fucked off and abandoned me.
I hate him. I hate that he’s occupying my thoughts.
And I hate that he took me away from Puck.
King shuts off the engine and stills for a moment, looking into the fountain, but I keep my eyes fixed on the window, watching it fog and clear, fog and clear.
“You’ll be safe here,” King says, his voice deafening in the silence that’s taken over the past couple hours. I jump slightly at the sound and close my eyes as tears prick my eyes once again.
After a couple minutes, his door opens and slams shut, and I peel my eyelids open to see his retreating back, making his way inside the Rhivers mansion.
His mansion.
Still, I don’t move. I don’t follow him or make any attempt to do anything. It’s like my whole body has shut down. As I think about how badly this day has gone, there’s a small tap at the window, a hesitant and sympathetic Dax outside the car. He has a small smile on his face but one of sadness. I wonder how he got here before us.
