Forever Bound

Calm but Passionate

"Come in," I murmur groggily, picking my head up.

Warren comes in, closes the door, then puts his hands in his pocket.  "I didn't mean to wake you. Is everything okay?"

I don't hide my attitude. "Yeah. The doctor said I should rest. Well—try to," I press my lips together, smiling bitterly.

His jaw clenches. "I'm going to get us dinner," he took his wallet off of the dresser.

"Oh, you're serious?" My shoulders shake as I laugh in actual disbelief, "you're going to let a whole day pass before you even try to tell me what the hell is going on?"

His eyes went into thin slits, and his nostrils flared. In this lighting, his eyes looked to be a way darker green than what they would usually be, and the dim light from the windows leave a sparkle in them.

"Go ahead, get mad, get annoyed, get whatever you want to call it. I gave you all day. The sun is almost setting, and you haven't spoken a word to me, and that's a bunch of bull shit," I rant, shoving the sheets off me.

"Are you done?"

I shake my head, feeling like he didn't take in a word I said.

Warren put his wallet in his pocket, giving me the nastiest scowl I'd ever seen. It was one that showed he wasn't used to being talked to that way. I could see he was used to being in control, he was use to people asking how high when he said jump. "I'll be back in about an hour."

He disappeared behind the door, and my eyes pooled with water. I laid down in the bed and listened to Warren's car start before it became a soft, distant purr.

So much for no stress...

~

I didn't go back to sleep. I was mad at Warren, but I was also a little hungry. When Warren got back, I heard the gravel move under his tires.

I listened for when he was making his way up here so I'd know not to even look at him. The wood creaked when he approached me. A brown paper bag landed in the nightstand. "Just a burger with fries from a diner."

Still no reaction from me. I just laid, staring off into space, my pillow was wet and my eyes were puffy. I was feeling a whirlpool of emotions; angry, sad, disappointed...scared.

I was dying to take the food, but first I wanted Warren to pick up that I wanted to be alone. The message fails when he sat on the bed, his back to me.

He sighed heavily, putting his elbows on his knees. "I told your family that I took you on a weekend getaway, they won't be calling you until Monday. The man that came to your apartment is now dead after being in a cell in my-"

"He's dead?!" My eye damn near fall out of my head. "Why—Did you kill him or something!" I sit up too quickly, the pain in my back makes me fall back on my elbow. I wince painfully. Warren turned to jump to my aid, but I stop him with my hand. "I'm fine, I got it," I suck in a sharp breath.

"You know you can't get up that fast, and you shouldn't be doing all of that damn moving," he scolds.

"You had blood on your shirt," I say with a side eye, reminding him not to lie.

"He killed himself, Dawson," he stresses slowly, looking me dead in the eye.

"What did you do to him," I press further, "why would he do that?"

"He betrayed his family," Warren looks down, moistening his lips with the flock of his tongue. "He knew he couldn't go back to them, it would've been worse than him slitting his own throat."