Facing Reality

Chapter 7

    I looked into the mirror, taking in the terrible bruise on my jaw, the rats nest I called hair, and my tired eyes. How was I supposed to tell John to leave when it was pretty clear what I had just been through?

    I climbed into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on me in an attempt to wash away the tension in my muscles. The tension only got worse as I thought about what I would say.

    Finally, with a frustrated sigh, I got out of the shower, dried myself off, and slipped into clean clothes. Once I had combed my hair and put concealer on my jaw, I glanced in the mirror again. I looked less like roadkill this time and more like crap. Great.

    I carefully pulled my hair around to hide whatever I wasn't able to cover on my jaw and started for my car.

    The twenty minute ride to the docks seemed to only take a few seconds. I sat in the parking lot, staring at Grey's boat from a distance. I couldn't do this. I was supposed to help John, not kick him out.

    "There is a bomb."

    I got out of the car.

    "It's in the police station, armed and ready for us to press the button."

    I pressed lock on the key and listened to the car beep.

    "And, if you don't want those people to die, you're going to do me a favor."

    I put one foot in front of the other, walking slowly toward the boat.

    "You're going to tell John to leave and never come back... or those police officers will die along with your three friends. You won't want John to have their blood on his hands as well, would you?"

    I reached the boat and climbed on board. Riley met me with a gasp and a huge hug. "What happened?" she cried.

    I shrugged stoically. "Some nut job decided to play a sick prank on me, I guess," I murmured.

    Riley gave me a strange look, and I pleaded with her using me eyes. She didn't press it.

    "Where's John?" I asked.

    She nodded toward the back of the boat, and I walked toward it. I found him helping Grey clean the fishing gear.

    "John. I need to talk with you."

    He was up immediately and following me a few feet away from Grey. "What's up?"

    "You need to leave."

    John blinked and stared at me as if I had grown a second head. "What?"

    I closed my eyes. "You need to leave now. You've done nothing but bring trouble with you." The words hurt, and, when I opened my eyes, I knew they hurt him too.

    "What's with the change of heart?" he asked, his tone emotionless.

    I shook my head. "I just thought-"

    "Wait, hold still," he told me, leaned forward with his eyes narrowed. Right at the spot I knew the bruise was.

    I jerked away and pulled my hair in front of it. "John, please," I begged.

    He reached out of grabbed my hand, pulling me toward himself. When I was close enough, he pushed my hair aside and tilted my head with a gentle finger beneath my chin. "What's this?" He gently ran his fingers over my jaw, making me wince.

    "Nothing," I lied, trying to pull away again. When he wouldn't let me go, I panicked. "John, please!"

    His eyes darkened with anger. "Someone's forcing you into this, aren't they?"

    I shook my head, fear for my friends and the police officers at the station filling me. "No! No! You've got to believe me! No one is forcing me into anything! Please, just leave!"

    His hand dropped like my skin had become fire. He shook his head slowly. "I really thought you believed in me." His eyes were on the deck, and I was glad because I couldn't hold back the tears. "I'll leave tonight, and you don't ever have to see me ever again."

    I watched him turn away and walk off, feeling like the worst person in the world. I wanted to call him back, explain what was happening... but fear stopped me. Because fear, apparently, always won.