Devoid [Bruno Mars]

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty

The long drive was filled with silent air and loud, anxious thoughts. I didn't converse with Joseph, who sat still in the passenger's seat, to steer my mind in a different direction. I thought the sentence over and over like I was tasting a foreign word on my tongue. Bruno had two weeks to live.

This seemed like the strong thing to do, to embrace reality. But I felt weak, hollow. Every thought came with a tightening of the chest; my breathing would hitch, barely filter through.

At first glance, it seemed like Joseph was just staring out the windshield the whole time. But when I leaned over, I saw his eyes closed. It kind of startled me, to see him asleep. I never seen him this way before, never thought that it was one of the things he did. It was a mental slap for me. He was human. Of course he did.

There was no difference about him as he slept. He was as calm as. . . dead.

What startled me even more was how his eyes cracked open, as if he never had been asleep at all.

I learned how he accessed Bruno's residence. There was no messing with Benny, the security guard, involved, just a button on a tiny gadget his Grim born mind created. 

I parked behind an unfamiliar car, too overwhelmed to know the brand. Short fur brushed against my chin, paws digging into my thighs as Fidel stretched himself up to rub his head against mine. I sighed, leaning back to scratch him behind the ears and whiskers as a brief farewell.

Joseph and I met in the front of the car. I handed him my keys, not before taking off Bruno's—mine. “Make sure Fidel doesn't shit all over my place.”

He squinted down at me, the setting sun illuminating his features that were not their usual sharpness. The dark stubble around his mouth softened his strong jaw. “It will be as if I and him were never there.”

We stood there for a moment. The wind stirred our hair. I touched his arm. The skin there twitched when I did. “Thank you for doing this. You know I've been forgiven you, even before all this.” I hated the way my voice cracked.

He gently kissed the top of my hair. My stomach churned sharply in response. “Do not thank me.”

I gave him a single nod, stepping out of his way. I waited until he disappeared out of sight. 

Joseph's piece of scrap metal couldn't handle a long journey, so he would be driving my car as we headed for the safe houses hopefully by tomorrow if everything with Bruno ran. . . smoothly. Joseph would be staying at my apartment, that way we were only an hour apart, and a rendezvous would be quick as possible.

There was a fleeting moment where I forgot I had Bruno's—my key, and was about to ring the doorbell. I let myself inside, soundlessly.

Conversation floated from the living room to me.

“. . .when she beats your ass.”

Phil. Phil was here.

“No.” Bruno waved him off with his voice. “She's not like that.”

“What would she do, then?” Phil challenged his best friend curiously.

Bruno didn't reply right away. I inched closer. “She. . . likes to disappear. Whether by her art or just walking away.” A sigh. “Sometimes. . . sometimes I wish I could just disappear right along with her.”

I backed away, their voices becoming fainter and fainter. When a good amount of distance was made, I headed to the living room again, so it could be a smooth entrance.

“When she gets here you won't even see me, man,” Phil was saying. “I'm turning into Usain Bolt and bolting the hell out of here.”

Bruno laughed. “You lame motherf—”