Macto

11; Make Me Spill the Truth

And it seemed like those eyes were always there. Chilled and everlastingly bright. As I fought through the blackness that sporadically took over by sight, I was greeted by a concerned face and a bloody lip. The sight did not last long before I was again swallowed by a sea of dark.

"Brita."

As soon as Benz whispered my name, a throbbing, lightheaded sensation swept over my body. My pulse pounded violently all over my body. Everything seemed to be going a million miles an hour.

I was used to about a mile or two.

Pain had never been so dominant. My mind struggled to pinpoint where the source was located.

"Brita?"

The familiarized voice stormed my head with more volume than before.

Without warning, pieces of previous events flooded into my current reality.

Josh fought with Benz. He shoved me into the wall. Something extremely heavy dropped on my head. Black.

The remainder was blurry, although I knew there were more details.

Disarray was the most prominent emotion. Questions with no answers had become a regular, torturous part of my life.

"Open your eyes again if you can hear me, Red."

The soothing, contrastingly coarse sound of Benz Maddox returned. His tranquility guided me to follow his instructions.

Oddly enough, the light stung like a bullet to the eye. Squinting did little for me, only emphasizing the raging torment occurring in my head.

There they were. Damn. His pupils were dilated, worry swam in his eyes as they gently peered into mine. It took me a minute to get adjusted to the amount of emotion in his expression. Even in the short time I had known him, I'd never witnessed him like this before.

Despite Benz's generally malicious interior, his flawless complexion and sculpted facial structure paired with his untamed dark chocolate hair made it impossible to look away.

The pain was temporarily forgotten as I peered at the boy crouched down in front of me. His busted lip reminded me of the events that had transpired and my stomach plummeted.

"I think you have a concussion. I'm taking you to the hospital."

My will to fight back or resist was missing.

"Josh."

I'm not sure why that was the only word I could manage to let loose.

His appearance hardened, resulting in goose bumps flourishing my body.

"I took care of that bastard."

Iced hands, almost as chilly as Benz's voice, grabbed me from the hardwood floors. Cautiously, I was lifted against his chest.

His biceps flexed against my back and the smell of Benz trailed into my senses. My heartbeat sped up when I came to the realization that he was carrying me bridal-style. My head rested on his shoulder. His eyelashes were a mile long, something subtle I could notice from my angle.

Ironically, a feeling of security and safety overcame me. Confusion rattled my subconscious at the thought that Benz fucking Maddox made me feel at peace.

The drop in temperature indicated that we had reached the parking garage. I had never explored it, considering my family never owned a vehicle.

I focused on the footsteps of the boy with his arms wrapped around me comfortably to distract myself from the pain. Never would I had thought the asshole and I would encounter a situation like this.

A car door opened. It smelled like leather and memories. And Benz.

I must have fallen victim to the overwhelming urge to sleep, because the next thing I knew Benz and I were in his unidentified car on the jam packed streets of New York City.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Why?" My voice was groggy and weak.

"You might die." He simply stated without even a flinch. The Benz I had known returned.

Fatigue was throwing itself around in my mind along with the lightheaded sensation. My head was begging me to close my eyes, providing some sort of relief. Fighting back became more difficult by the second.

"Seriously, Benz. It's-it's getting harder to stay awake..."

"Just uh-talk to me or something.. it will keep you distracted.."

It was painfully obvious that genuine social interaction between us was an uncharted territory in his mind.

My mouth seemed to operate without the consent of my brain. I had never felt intoxication before, but the way I felt was frighteningly similar in the sense that I lost a lot of my common sense.

"You are being so nice to me. Wh-y are you being so nice to me?"

Honesty. Another feature that a drunk individual and I had in common at the moment.

"I mean I followed you to the graveyard and I crashed your party.. And my- my dumbass boyfriend beat you up for nooo reason."

A deep chuckle stemmed from the drivers' seat.

"I think that I put your boyfriend in his place." He emphasized that he had finished what Josh had started.

"You should not be nice to me, you asshole," the familiar nickname trickled on my lips, although I had no malicious intent behind my words.

A beautiful, melodic sound followed my words. His laughter. Another feature to add to the fucking perfection list.

"You should've just left me in the apartment. You should've left me just like she did. She left me in the apartment and never ever, ever came back!"

My subconscious was screaming at me to stop, desperately attempting to seize my words. If only my injured brain cooperated.

The air between us suddenly grew thick and still. I could almost imagine his facial expression at my outburst.

Fifteen seconds of undivided seconds floated in the car until he shattered it.

"What are you talking about?" To me, his question sounded abnormally quiet, but it was only because of my intensifying headache.

"She-she just left me and my dad. My dad is an alcoholic. He sometimes punches holes in the walls. He drinks so much beer that he occasionally forgets who I am. Who forgets their own kid?"

My blabbering halted halfway through as my mouth struggled to keep up with my brain.

"But that's not why she left. She left because... Probably me. I don't- don't really know though. She said she'd come back. She had beautiful hair Benz, she loved it more than she loved me. Don't talk about it though,"

The sloppier and more random my words became, the more the pain escalated. In my sight, the car began to spin uncontrollably and dots of colors were painted across my vision. An overwhelming urge to scream powered over me and I fought it with every bit of strength I had.

The battle became impossible to defeat.

Apparently we had reached the hospital because men in scrubs began pulling me onto a gurney. We were in the parking lot of the emergency room.

My eyes darted around my surroundings as panic set in with all of the rushing figures around me. One put a breathing mask around me. Despite that, I was fading rapidly. I heard some urgent words and shouts. None of them were Benz.

No one was speaking directly to me as they finally pulled me towards the automatic door.

Exhaustion. Destructive, consuming exhaustion was the final sensation. My eyelashes fluttered up and down. It would not be long before the midnight surroundings returned.

My head turned around randomly. The last thing I saw was his car. It was no longer a mysterious car.

It was a Camaro. Benz Maddox drove a Camaro.