𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ~ 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

The dashboard clock reads a quarter past eleven. She squints and she tries to look at it again, it hasn't changed. She squints and she tries again, a minute has passed, it is now sixteen minutes past eleven. She is confused at first but then everything starts to make sense. Their perception of each other had changed in the span of four hours or less, it was fascinating indeed. She checks the dashboard again, the time hasn't changed, she smiles and glances outside the window. They were close, exceptionally close to their final destination, the third act, final chapter before the epilogue. But was it really the final chapter? Or was there more to be revealed and scrutinized, judged beyond reprieve?

"It's close", he said.

"I remember".

He glanced at her momentarily. "You do?"

"I've been here before".

"When?" He seemed puzzled.

"You don't remember?"

"Enlighten me".

"I swung by once", she said. "To pick up something". She paused, trying to recollect a lost memory. "I really can't remember what it was".

"How far back was this?"

"I don't know, maybe a month or two".

"How'd you know the address?"

"Stu", she answered simply.

"Of course", he paused. "So why did you come here?"

"You needed something".

"So you took it back for me?"

"Sure", she looked at him and she smiled. "How could I not, dear?" She added sardonically.

"You can't remember what it was?" He ignored her tone.

"What?"

"The thing, that you came to pick up".

"It was probably something that you needed".

"Like what?" He insisted.

"I don't remember, Billy".

"Try", he urged. His curiosity was definitely piqued, he had to get to the bottom of this.

"Uhm... I don't know, Billy". She paused, frustration was definitely seeping in. She was exceptionally irritated that she couldn't remember, the memory of the object simply eluded her. "Maybe it was a... pair of boots or something?"

"A pair of boots?" He asked incredulously.

"Fuck!" Recognition and realization takes over. "It was your damn leather jacket!"

"My leather jacket?" He repeated, an eyebrow quirked upwards, a questioning manner.

"Yes, your leather jacket", she confirmed. "You kept bitching and whining about it, so I got it back".

"How the fuck did you get it back?"

"Well I sure as hell didn't ask for it", she grinned.

"You snuck in". It wasn't a question.

"Fuck yeah I did".

Billy increased the speed of the car, slightly. He hit a pothole and their cargo jumped and flopped lifelessly in the trunk.

"Damn", she groaned. "I bet his fucking entrails are all over the place right now".

"For fuck's sake", he groaned. "I'm hoping that it doesn't come to that".