Juvenile Delinquents

Fights

"Why?" I thought that would be the last time I saw Tyson Garcia but his voice echoed throughout the empty home.

     I hadn't turned. I faced the front door, tears pooled in my eyes. I knew exactly what he was asking. It was time for the truth to come out but I hadn't thought it would be so soon. "Why what?" My voice sounded scratchy. I tried to swallow the tears.

     "Why did you leave me?" I heard the hurt in his voice. Every part of my brain told me to move, to rush out of there before he could say anything but I wanted the weight off my chest. I wanted to rid of the burden I had kept for so long. "I knew there was something going on in that head of yours five months ago. I knew that whatever it was, you weren't going down without a fight. So, why?" I didn't answer him.

     Instead, I swung the front door open and walked towards my car. Ignoring his calls, I opened the door to the back seat and shoved my box there. Slamming the door shut, my body quickly turned around to get out of there. Instead, I was met with a hard chest that belonged to the man I once loved. I didn't look up, my eyes stayed to the ground. All I wanted to do was leave. "Answer me Roma." Tyson growled. I didn't budge. His fingers tilted my chin causing my eyes to meet his. A small smirk on his lips. "If you're not going to let me get the information out of you, then at least join me for dinner."

     A smile made its way to my face. I laughed. "Yeah okay. You'll have to kidnap me in order to do that. Ther—" Before I was able to finish my sentence, his arms wrapped themselves around my waist. In an instant, I was thrown over his shoulder as he walked back up the driveway. My blood boiled. "Tyson. Put me down!" I demanded as my hands slammed against his back.

     "Not until you speak to me." Tyson sang as we walked back into the house and slammed the door behind him.

     "I'm not telling you anything!" I yelled, followed by a loud squeal as he threw me down on the couch.

     "We've got all night babe, don't worry." He winked at me before heading into the kitchen.

     I sat up. A growl rising from my throat. "Don't call me that." The sun was already setting as I followed him to the kitchen. I waisted more time here than I intended to.

     Pulling out my phone, it was already eight o'clock. I had three missed calls from my sister with a text message asking me where I was. Sending her a text, I told her I was stuck at the house with Tyson and that I would be home later. She replied in a matter of seconds telling me to be careful and that she'll let our parents know. Hopefully dad would get mad and send over some of the guys from the Mafia. I thought to myself.

     Locking my phone, I placed it in my back pocket as Tyson went into one of the cupboards and grabbed the spaghetti box. "This good?" He asked as I hummed a response. Placing it on the counter, he took out a pot and quickly ran water in it. Once the water was filled half way, he placed it on the oven top and turn it on. "Can you tell me what happened that night?"

     "What night?" I played dumb. I knew it would tick him off. He would give up and get tired of me then he would send me back to my freedom. Simple.

     He raised a thick brow. "The night we broke up." His eyes met mine. "Tell me what happened that night."

     I shrugged. "I never loved you. Simple." I felt nauseous, the need to vomit took over. "What else is there to speak about? Clearly, you felt the same as you called me a whore and some other really mean things that I don't want to remember."

     "Then why keep the photo album?" A smirk came to play on his lips. I stood there frozen. He knew he had me, he continued to push. "Is there something you're not telling me Melody? After all, why keep an album of pictures when you could have thrown them out." He placed his hands on the island top. "Plus, some of the pictures we took were taken the day before we had broken up—and some the day of." Tyson paused and tilted his head to the side. Analyzing me.