Two Miles to Heaven

-Chapter 27- «Denial»

-"Wakey! Wakey!, beautiful residents of the city that never..." the stupid radio woman cheered but I haven't let her finish her crooning as I slammed the vintage talking alarm clock in the wall before putting my bed pillow on my face.

It has been three days since that last encounter with Kendall at the party.

I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal off me. How am I supposed to feel about the woman of my life who thinks I'm a heartless murderer?

There's no point of trying to understand it, I do know how Kendall's brain have been washed by that filthy swine called Sam. What really hurts is the fact that I thought she was smarter than that.

What happened to the woman who told me that she basically won every murder case she worked on, before my comeback here?

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Kendall calling. I rejected it before glancing at my phone screen. 33 missed calls of her. Then, came the 34th one.

-"When the hell are you gonna stop reaching to me?" I annoyingly picked up.

-"Miles! Thank God you answered! Where are you?" she squealed, her high-pitched voice depicted a sense of relief.

-"Home."

-"I've been calling you and knocking on your door for three days!" she accusingly stated.

-"Sorry, but I'm not really in the mood for a shrink session with my treacherous girlfriend." I declared to her, flatly.

-"Why are you doing this to me?"

-"Let's just swift gears in this boring conversation. Why did you believe Sam and not me?" I raised my voice, standing up and lying my back on the bedhead.

-"He had proof, Miles!" she exclaimed. "I told you that I took it to be checked by an expert. It's not fake. You have a serious medical condition, that's why you don't remember killing all these women!"

-"Un-freaking-believable!" I angrily yelled, almost breaking my phone by clenching my fist. "You still rely on your stupid suppositions? If you really think that I did it, then you must be smoking drapes."

Hanging up, I got up to throw a black sweatshirt, black skinny jeans and black sneakers. Getting all the sleep in the world is not gonna fix my breakdown. I need something stronger, something more likely... Expendable.

That's when a little car ride to Jackson Square down the West Village takes place.

The park was almost empty with a few squirrels wandering around and, probably, a dozen people scattered everywhere. The local police department officers thought they did a really good job arresting all the drug dealers roaming under the trees.

They clearly need to do it daily, preferably.

I remember the first time coming here with Kendall, when we were in high-school. It was at the time when we weren't really part of the popular ones. So, one day, we decided to buy a few pills that we would share with a few partygoers at the Hamilton's annual keg party. We've been considered as one of the cool kids until we became the King and the Queen of our prom.

Quite hilarious how it all turned out after more than a decade.

-"Hey man... Got bump?" I murmured to a guy who's been playing with his guitar, under a tree.

-"How many?" he nonchalantly asked, still running his fingers on the strings.

-"Eight ball." I ordered, cracking my fingers.

-"Two Benjamins, bruh."

I nervously shoved my hands in my pockets looking for my wallet until I realized that I left it at my place.