Super Dark 1 (Super Dark Trilogy)

Chapter 12 - Reconciliation

A little after one, we pulled back onto my street. The rain had stopped, but dark clouds still loomed ominously above. I hadn’t wanted to leave Elliot, but he’d insisted on it. He said he needed time to think, time to get his head together—and in all honesty, who could blame him? It had been an intense twenty-four hours for the both of us.

I was still having trouble processing what had happened. And I knew it was important for me to carry on as if nothing strange had happened. Any major change in my behavior might arouse suspicion.

“So when will I see you again?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be in touch,” he replied brusquely.

“You’re not gonna run out on me, are you?”

“Not if you keep your side of the bargain.”

“Of course I will. I’ve given you my word.”

“Then you’ll hear from me in a couple of days.”

For a moment, I sat silently, my hands folded in my lap.” You will think about it though, won’t you?”

“Speaking to my parents?”

“Yes.”

“Like I said, it’s under consideration. I’ll let you know my decision when I next speak to you.” He clenched his lips and got the engine started. “Listen, you’d better go inside now. Your Mum’s gonna be wondering what happened to you.”

“Okay.”

When I got in, I found Mum in the living room with Greg. As soon as I walked through the door, she stubbed out her cigarette and raced toward me.

“My god, darling, where have you been? I was just about to phone the police. We’ve all been worried sick. Frasier called earlier looking for you. He said something about a fight in a club, and how you’d disappeared afterward.”

“I didn’t disappear,” I said. “He’s being overly dramatic. A friend took me home and that’s where I’ve just come from. No big deal.”

“Which friend is this?” she asked sternly. “I thought you were supposed to be staying with that Becky girl.”

“No, this is a different friend. You don’t know them.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “What the hell happened here?” She clutched my swollen cheek and tilted it toward her. “So Frasier was right. You have been fighting.”

“Mum!” I glanced pointedly at our visitor. “Can we do this another time? My head’s so sore, I really need to lie down.”

Her mouth became a taut, bitter line. “Can you give us five minutes, Greg? I need to have a word with my daughter. Alone.”

“No problem,” Greg said, getting up. “I’ll go make us some tea.” He hurried out to the kitchen.

I stood by the door, shifting my weight awkwardly. I really couldn’t take a grilling right now.

“You might as well sit down,” she said, gesturing to an empty space on the sofa. “You’re not leaving this room till you tell me what’s been going on.”

Reluctantly, I obliged. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, let’s start with what Frasier said this morning. Apparently you got into an altercation with a man and you were seen leaving the club in a hurry.”

“So I got in one little argument. So what?”

“I’d say that mark on your face is the product of more than just a little argument, wouldn’t you?”