Cuffed. [Norman Reedus]

28*Mel's Diner.

Chapter Twenty-Eight ::: Mel's Diner.

{*UNEDITED*}

The moment that Ella enters the front seat of my car, she is firing off questions like a canon. "Is she gonna go to my house? Norman, you really should call the police, this is getting out of hand! I'm surprised the lady hasn't called the police on you  yet!"

Boone interjects from the backseat, pushing his hand forward to reveal the rag encasing my mother's highly illegal possessions. "Slow down, cowboy," he says. Ella just shoots him a glare before dismissing even more questions.

"Is that yours?!" She stares wild-eyed at the drug needle and pistol. I can tell that she can barely contain herself, and her voice reveals how uneasy she has become. It's shaky, wavering as she speaks. 

"Yes. Norman is a heroin addict and desperately needs your help." Boone somehow rattles off a joke at a time like this, so I take the wheel of the conversation to avoid a crash.

"No, no, no. Its my mom's, Boone took it from her." I explain. 

"How did he get close enough to—" Ella's face darkens but I can see the gears turning in her head, so I give her a minute to sort through the mess I've thrown at her today. "Wait," she pauses. "Is that the gun she pulled on you this morning?! How did Boone get a hold of all of that?"

"Just—" I have to stop myself from snapping at her. "Listen. She came to my apartment this morning, and pulled that gun on me like I told you, so I, I had to, like,"

"He knocked the shit out of his own mom and then, as he was going to the bank, I went to his apartment—for, you know, special reasons—and stumbled upon Crazy Momma Reedus' nearly lifeless body, grabbing some valuable evidence before Norman came back to pick me up!" Boone summarizes the crazy chain of events before taking a deep breath and wrapping the gun and wallet back up in the rag and leaning back into his chair.

"So, she won't call the police on you because you can show them her gun. . ?" Ella works out the situation aloud, slowly but surely. "But what if she sucks it up and rats you out anyway for killing her—"

"She won't. She's not that stupid. . . " Part of me is only saying it to make myself feel better; like a small pep talk to psych myself up and try to believe in the best case scenario. 

Ella sighs loudly and pushes her fingers into her forehead. "This is insane; you're insane. And how do you know she won't go to my house?"

"Oh," Boone takes back the steering wheel of the conversation, allowing me to finally breath and try to process this whole thing (and also of course focus on my driving). "Trust me. I got that situation under control."

"So then why aren't I going home? Aren't I safe now?"

Thrown off guard by the question, I panic. She's completely right. I hadn't even thought of that; if Boone had taken care of the address situation, then there was no need for Ella to hide or flee with me. 

"You tell me," the best thing I can think to do is flip the question onto her and hope for the best. My whole body and soul wants her along for the ride, but like I had told myself before, she didn't deserve to be dragged into this. That part of her life was over for the most part and I had no right to drag it back in.

Ella doesn't take too long to answer, but before, she looks back at Boone who burps loudly, and then looks to me. "Well, I guess you guys need some brains on this trip."

"Hey!" Boone says through a loud laugh. 

I laugh, too, and then side glance at her. "Good answer."