Goodbye Ain't Ever Meant A Thing

Chapter 12-M

Three days had passed since their fight and Derrick was oddly quiet. The occasional slap, or punch, but never more. She had resumed work once again, despite Derrick's dismay but she won when she reminded him it would make people suspicious if she quit. Her bruises were nearly completely healed, thank god. You could only see the faintest shade of yellow if you looked really hard. She supposes that had to so with the pills Derrick made her take every morning. She sipped the whiskey in her hand, relishing in the burn that traveled with it. She couldn't help herself as her hands as they dialed an all too familiar number. She needed her rock. She needed the one person who shut down the thoughts coursing through her mind. Derek was gone for three days. For three days she was free. Her heart was beating rapidly, the pace reminding her of a bullet. She laughed at the thought. Sounds like something he'd write. She knew the consequences of her actions, but she needed to feel something other than pain for the first time in two years. She tosses her head back as she down the rest of the whiskey in her glass. It had gotten worse since they moved back home, just like she was afraid it would.

"Rosey? Is something wrong?" his voice was groggy, making her realize how late it was.

"Shit I'm sorry Brant. I didn't realize how late, or early it is." She was rambling as she tried to apologize making him chuckle.

"My phones always on for you. You didn't answer my question though, babe, what's wrong?" he knew her like the back if his hand. If she was drinking this late he knew something was troubling her.

"Is my life a suitable answer?" she spoke softly. Her tale tale sign of sippin on whiskey spoke clear. She wasn't drunk, not yet, just barely hanging on that level of sober that made her truthful.

"Come over babe. I'll pour you a drink and you can tell me everything." the slight tone of a demand filled her ears. She bit her lip. It's what she wanted. She knew it and so did he. It wasn't the first time either one of them had been each other's late-night call. She agreed and quickly grabbed her keys before hopping into her old Jetta, a car that even though she loved wasn't her old Jeep. A jeep would never be suitable for children according to Derrick though. The drive over seemed like seconds, everything passing in a blur around her as her heart began to race more and more until it felt as if it was going to explode. If Derek found out he'd kill her in seconds, but she didn't care. He could kill her but she'd die with a smile on her face. A soft laugh fell from her lips as she saw his tired face emerging from the doorway, a smile pressed against his lips. His chest was covered with a plain, tight white shirt, his pj bottoms hanging dangerously low. She hopped out without a second thought and walked over, instantly becoming embraced in his arms. He rested his head against hers as he rocked her slightly. Inhaling his scent, she could feel her entire body relax.

"Come on babe, let's get you inside," he mumbled against her head as he pulled her from the cold night's air. She laughed as she saw the glass of whiskey on the table.

"You know me so well," She stated as he took her keys and hung them on the key holder near the door.

"My girl likes them strong," he chuckled. He'd always call her his girl, even with the previous girls he was with. She was his girl. She was sure that didn't go over well but he didn't care. She picked the glass up and immediately downed the amber liqueur. She closed her eyes as the burning chased the drink like fire chases gasoline. Her eyes opened after a moment, falling on him as he raised an eyebrow at her urgency.

"What's wrong?" He said again, taking a long drink of his water as he stared at her patiently. He watched as she sat on the grey colored couch.

"Why do you have whiskey?" She avoided the question with a look that screamed worry.