Chains

Chapter Nine

POV: Alex

Almost the second the door shut and Norma walked out, I sat down, popped open a bottle of bourbon, and began to wash it all away. The worry, panic, regret. A common running theme of feelings at the moment, I realised.

I hadn't planned to tell her everything; hell, I hadn't planned to tell her anything. I don't even know what my plan was initially. Well, non-existent, that's what. Knowing Norma I thought that if I told her everything, she'd freak out, and she'd blab. Ruin everything. Though somehow, when I looked into her eyes and she held my hand and insisted I could trust her, I truly did. Manipulation was something she was all too capable of, but this time I chose to believe that she really was being honest with me. For once.

It'd only been a few hours since Norma had been here; heading off to the motel already would make me look too eager, surely. The visit I was tempted to make wouldn't be to see Norma though, so it wouldn't look so bad. I still needed to speak to Nat about the whole situation with Bob; but then again, considering the unexpected friendship her and Norma seemed to have developed, I had no doubt she'd go and tell her everything anyway. It was odd, seeing my sister and Norma getting along so well. Sad, actually, because they seemed to get along better with each other than I did with either of them.

Screw it.

I was only a sip or two into my first glass of bourbon, it wasn't ridiculously late, and I wanted to speak to Nat. As I got up from the sofa, I went to reach for the no-longer-existent jacket that'd previously been draped over the sofa, yet had now been claimed by a certain blonde. A quiet laugh escaped my lips; amused at both myself for reaching for the jacket out of habit, despite it's obvious absence, and at the memory of how blunt Norma had been when she asked me to lend it to her.

When I pulled up at the motel, I saw the light in Room 7 flick on. It was very difficult to subtly turn up to the Bates Motel; I imagined the sound of tyres scraping the gravel must echo around the entire area. As I stepped out of the truck, the door to Natalie's room simultaneously opened. She sat herself down on one of the chairs sat on the porch just outside her room, tapping the one next to her and crossing her legs.

"Norma told you?" I asked, slumping down into the seat next to her.

"That you bumped off BP? Yup," She nodded, grinning mischievously. "Nice one, Al." She held her hand up in front of me; as if she was waiting for a high five.

"Keep your voice down." I shot her a stern glare, touching the top of her hand and beginning to lower it.

"Oh come on. Who's gonna hear me, the raccoons?" She rolled her eyes, bringing her hand down and stubbornly folding her arms.

We were quiet for a few minutes, awkwardly and stubbornly not talking to each other. Getting consumed in listening to the only sound there seemed to be in that moment; crickets chirping, I was surprised when she spoke up again.

"You really care about her, don't you?"

I simply frowned; assuming she was on about Norma since she was the only 'her' in my life but still confused as to why she randomly brought her up. She rolled her eyes. "I'm talking about Norma." She said, as if she thought that'd cure my confusion. It didn't.

"What about--"

Speak of the devil.

The sound of heels crushing the gravel could be heard from where we were sat. The sound was distant, so there was no chance of her hearing what Nat had said--or certainly nor clearly, but her arrival did give me an excuse to avoid the question.