Dylan (18+) [ON HOLD]

chapter seven: M A L L

Gabby

. . .

I hadn't wanted a dog, and really, really, didn't want to be responsible for the upkeep of such a creature.

It just wasn't something that had ever crossed my mind.

But, I think I love Chapa more than I love art or numbers, and that really says something.

I walk her every day, so that she's not cooped up inside my increasingly small apartment, and with Dylan's accompaniment, I take her to the nearby dog park.

Being outside is weird... scratch that—being outside causes my skin to itch as though I've got the chicken pox and turns my insides to liquid, making me feel like an itchy lava lamp with evil eyes following me wherever I go.

Fear ticks at me, a constant reminder that I'm in danger every time I step outside of my house.

But, I do it anyway. Not only for the puppy who spends her time at home playing with the puzzle I got for her so that I'd still be able to get some work done, but for Dylan.

So far, he and Luisa, who like me, hadn't been sleeping, are the only human beings I've spoken too.

I've some how managed to avoid Ben, and I'm not even sure what my bodyguard's name is—her being nice enough to see that I couldn't exactly handle conversation right now, we don't talk much.

I have yet to see my parents after going to the hospital. They want to give me space, and not force their presence upon me, so they're waiting until I come to see them.

I'm not sure I want to.

My parents have always instilled in us the importance and values of church, and whilst they didn't preach the gum analogy, they did make sure we knew the gravity of our first time.

Especially that it should be reserved until marriage.

Jesus fuck, do they even know what happened? 

I told the detective I'd wanted Dylan in the room with me, but I can't even recall talking to my parents about it.

Shit... I don't think I did. If I had, I'd have gotten calls from family members in other countries, and prayers from aunts I don't know.

Derek knows, but he keeps more secrets than the Feds.

And Dylan... well he wouldn't tell without my permission first.

How would they react? If they knew? My junior prom night flashes before my eyes and an extra bolt of fear cuts through me.

I shake myself out of my stupor and shove my feet into some shoes.

I don't put on any makeup, but I take my hair out of the ponytail that keeps it out of my face. I take quick stock of my attire. Nondescript shirt, loose jeans, and a pair of Vans.

Better than what some would wear.

I shoot a quick text to my bodyguard, asking if she'd accompany me to the mall to which she responds with a thumbs up emoji.

"C'mon Chapa," I call to my puppy. I watch, feeling my lips twitch with an unwilling smile as her ears perk up at her name. She abandons her toy and waddles over to her leash, grabbing it and carrying it over to me.

She drops it in my hand and pants with the most adorable puppy smile on her face as I clip it to her collar.

Quickly, and thankful that Luisa's at work, I make my way downstairs to meet with my bodyguard who waits at the desk, twirling a key ring on her finger.