The Mechanic

Chapter Twelve - "Rice Krispies."

"The Mechanic"

Chapter Twelve

'Rice Krispies.'

Scene...

Late that Night

Demi's POV

The room was silent, but the voices in my head were too loud to drown out. The memory of Wilmer's hate-stricken glare haunted my mind in a repetitive loop. I sat on the corner of my bed as he slept, my head in my hands as I tried to process my thoughts. Glancing over at my clock on my nightstand, I checked the time.

3:42 AM

And not a wink of sleep.

In an effort to avoid confrontation or questions, I climbed out of my bed quietly to keep from disturbing Will. The fact that I had to do something like this to avoid getting hurt truly boggled my mind. As I scurried down stairs, I couldn't help but think:

How had I gotten to that point? Since when was I the girl whose boyfriend hits her?

The kitchen light had been left on all night, so I followed the brightness. A sleepless night was inevitable, so I decided I was hungry, and headed for the pantry for my favorite cereal; Rice Krispies. As I pulled the door open, however, I was frustrated to find that Wilmer had eaten the last of it, and left the empty box there inside. Sighing, I pulled the box from the shelf, threw it into the garbage, and shut the pantry door.

I took a seat at a stool by the bar then, and contemplated pouring myself a glass of wine. Instead, I began sifting through the stacks of envelopes and papers that were sitting on the bar's surface. Ari was the one that typically collected the mail and placed it onto the counter for Will and I to go through whenever we got the chance. So since it was all beginning to pile up, I used it to pass the time.

Bills . . . Ads . . . Magazines . . . etc.

Then a business card fell from the stack. I picked it up, and read the printing across the front.

Kevin's Auto Shop

I suddenly remembered the mechanic telling me to call him anytime I felt I needed help, and flipped the card over onto its back. Just as I had expected, there was Joseph's number, handwritten neatly in green ink.

I'd had a rough night with Will; that much was true. But was it worth a 3AM phone call to a man I'd just barely met? Staring at the card, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to talk myself out of calling him at such a ridiculous hour of the night. Yet somehow, I found myself reaching for my cell phone, and dialing the number anyway.

Three trills in, my heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, and I felt I'd made a stupid mistake.

Then finally, his voice. His husky, deep, tired voice.

"Hello?" He asked groggily. I almost hung up on him; I had a lump in my throat that nearly suffocated me.

"Joe," I began, my voice shaking. "Hey, uh, it's Demi."

"Demi?" He said, his voice becoming much more alert. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah I just . . . um," I didn't know what to say. My mind began rushing with thoughts as I tried to conjure up an excuse as to why I was calling. "I . . . ran out of my favorite cereal, and I need a ride to the store."

Fuck.

What the Fuck.

There was something wrong with me. My excuse was asinine. I was sure he wouldn't believe me, and he'd pry. Or he'd hang up the phone and go back to sleep.