Returning Shadows

(3) I Don't Bite Love -- Part 2

CHAPTER 3 - Part 2/2

A chilly wind whipped through my jumper as I opened the door, making me wish I had a coat and scarf.

I stepped outside under the shelter. Rain could be heard pounding on the roof, and the streetlights highlighted the long sleets as they fell from the dark sky and disappeared among others on the drenched road. There was no way I was going to walk back in that. I'd just have to wait under the shelter and hope that it would stop soon.

Leaning over the banister overlooking the street, two bright headlights shone through the darkness. I winced at the sudden two bright orbs that assaulted my vision.

A metallic grey BMW slowly pulled up and stopped on the double yellow lines in front of me. Crap. Who was this?

I turned away from the car and slid down into a sitting position on the floor as the driver's door opened and somebody stepped out.

There was a jingling of keys as someone ascended up the steps. I recognised him as the tattoo guy. He drove a BMW?

He looked completely different now, dressed in dark baggy jeans and a black leather jacket.

He entered inside the leisure centre and came back out a few minutes later with a rucksack, swinging his keys on his finger.

He turned around, about to go back down the steps to his car. Didn't he notice me there?

"Don't tell me you're sleeping rough tonight," he said suddenly, turning to face me again, a smirk playing on his lips.

I forced out a nervous laugh. "Um... no. I don't fancy walking back in this, so I'll just wait here until it stops."

"Mmhmm. Do you want a lift back?" he asked, casually inspecting his nails and giving me a sideways glance.

I looked back along the street where the rain was still beating down on the road and turned my nose up. I really didn't want to walk back in this, and it wasn't likely to stop anytime soon.

I hesitated, picking at a bit of moss on the ground next to me. Why was he being so nice? He didn't even know me.

"Yes please," I said finally, lifting myself up off the floor. I followed him to his flashy car. I'd never driven in anything this expensive, and was nervous about getting his floor dirty or something. If the exterior of his car was anything to go by, the interior must also be immaculate. I could have put my makeup on using the paintwork as a mirror, it was that shiny.

It proves that looks can be deceiving.

As I opened the passenger door, the smell of fish and chips assaulted my nostrils. The greasy newspapers were bunched up on the floor, among several disposable coffee cups. I never thought it possible, but my brother now had a rival on the World's Messiest Car award.

I sat down on the leather seat and closed the door quietly, being careful not to slam it, just as he also entered and closed his door behind him.

Droplets of water flew off his leather jacket as he wobbled the gearstick and plunged his key into the ignition, making the car roar to life.

"Sorry about the mess," he said as he checked the mirrors and pulled off the double yellow lines onto the road.

"It's fine," I replied, frantically searching for something else to say so that we wouldn't be sitting in an awkward silence. Curse my stupid awkwardness!

I could sense he was looking at me from the corner of my eye.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he said, sounding amused.