Drawing Blood

Chapter Eight

Adam eventually put the phone down on me and I sat there in a stunned silence, gazing blankly at my surroundings for what felt like an eternity, before letting out an almighty scream. In no time at all, I was stomping my feet on the floor and hitting the steering wheel with both hands repeatedly; exasperated. Running out of steam, I collapsed in a tearful mess in the front seat.

He hadn't been kind, and I knew he would be angry, but I didn't think he would yell at me down the phone; demanding I turn around immediately and head back to meet him. He had even gone as far as to warn me that he would hunt me down himself, and handcuff me to him for the rest of my life, if I didn't do as I was told.

As I sat there, his words echoing in my ears, not really seeing anything, I wondered whether he meant them or not. He could be infuriating, that much was certain. And I had never met anyone in my entire life who I butted heads with so much, not even Will. I was willing to hazard a guess that it would continue to stay that way, too, until one of us was mature enough to back down, and let go of the reigns.

He had ended the call abruptly, leaving me no opportunity to challenge him. In retaliation, I had thrown my phone down on the passenger seat, cursing him under my breath. How dare he accuse me of being in denial. He knew nothing of how I was feeling, and it was easy for him to throw shade my way; not holding back as he told me what a selfish brat I was. I knew I was being difficult. Just like I knew I was causing everyone around me nothing but pain and worry. But how would they feel if they woke up one day and discovered I'd been torn to shreds, with only my dental records to identify me?

No. Adam didn't care how I felt. And it was becoming apparent he would never understand all the time we were arguing for control.

A headache began nagging away at my temples, and I closed my eyes. I needed that coffee badly. The adrenaline of what I had done, and all the arguing, had worn off, leaving me feeling tired and achy. Sleep was beginning to knock at my brain, and if I wanted to stay awake and alert on the motorway, then I would defiantly need something to pick me up. And soon.

My face didn't look too bad from crying, and luckily no one was around. Snatching up my bag from the footwell, I opened the car door to throw myself into the cold, leaving the phone where it was. I didn't feel like dealing with another call, right now. The café was more promising. It was only a stone's throw away, and it didn't take me long before I was standing inside, lingering under the heater to get warm.

I observed the layout of the place. It had been split into two separate sections. There was a canteen which had been built for those who wanted to stop and have something eat; while the shop section looked as though it had been added later to accommodate those who were just passing through. For some reason, it had an American theme running through it, but the décor was very bland and needed updating. I clocked the few well-placed movie posters hanging around the walls. It made it slightly easier on the eye, but the large bowling trophy which stood proud in a corner by the jukebox, looked out of place. So too, did the glass cabinet crammed with pictures of American icons; their sloppy signatures scribbled across the celluloid in black ink. Thinking it best to just get my coffee and go, I headed into the shop.

The temptation to grab a handful of chocolate was strong, but I denied it. Instead, I collected a polystyrene cup from counter, nodding to the cashier, before strolling to the back of the store to head straight towards the self-service. The smell of caffeine was like a magnet to my senses, and I began to wonder whether I was addicted to the stuff. I always seemed to have a mug of it in my hand, and when I wasn't drinking it, I was certainly thinking about it. Stifling a yawn, I put the cup in the little compartment, reading the instructions someone had tacked to the side of the machine. I made up my mind I wanted it black, so I slid down the plastic door to stop the splash back, and pressed the button. It wasn't long before I noticed I was not alone.