Chasing Fallen

Chapter 27

I sat on my bed in my button up pajamas, heart in my throat, wondering whom Tristan had been texting.

Peyton.

I took out my phone and dialed a familiar number.

Line busy.

I was, quite frankly, getting irritated. It was either she was on another call, unreachable or she didn't pick up at all.

She didn't even have the decency to call me back!

But I'm overreacting, aren't I?

Peyton hated Tristan just as much, if not more, than I did. She knew every itty bitty and gruesome detail of everything he'd done to me. Of how much he broke me.

If anything, I had to warn the girl he was smitten over what kind of a monster he was. But really up to now, I still can't wrap my mind around the idea that Tristan had done what he had to me. I couldn't comprehend it and I knew that a small part of me still didn't believe it happened.

I ignored it.

Just like how I ignore everything and pushed it aside so I don't have to remember anything. Remember the pain. Remember the hurt.

So no, Peyton wouldn't betray me like that.

Would she?

She was probably just mad at me for being secretive lately. I'm going to visit her and tell her everything I've been up to and hopefully she doesn't get a heart attack. I smiled when I thought of what her reaction would be to all of this. She was definitely going to slap me. That's for sure.

I was still uneasy as I turned on my laptop.

Easy wasn't back yet and he usually slept before me. Which was a plus considering I could change out of my bandages and pajamas in the bathroom without worrying if he'd come in.

I decided that I needed a distraction because the past was getting too close to comfort, buddying up with my memories.

A solid distraction.

So that's exactly what I did as I pulled out my laptop and binged season 3 of Money Heist on Netflix, trying to flush out today's events. I was so engrossed with everything going on with the Professor and you know who, that I almost didn't notice the thumping at my door.

I froze.

Usually people knock unless if I missed the memo. Could it be Brady? He usually does stupid things. I wouldn't put it past him to develop a new method of knocking doors and demand a noble peace prize for it.

Cautiously, I made my way to the door.

We're at a protected camp. Surely it couldn't be a serial killer. And last time I checked Ted Bundy was dead.

Wait, he only kills females.

I am a female! What if he found out?

He's dead, you dumbass!

That still didn't put me at ease. The worst part was that the thumping was reoccurring nonstop. I took the nearest thing I could find which was a flip flop. It might sound pathetic but wait till you see a Latina woman carrying one and aiming it at you.

Chills, literal chills.

I twisted the door knob around and quickly yanked the door open. I almost screamed when I saw nobody.
Then I almost screamed again when I saw a large black hair ball on the floor.

"Coal?"

It was Easy's dog.

It leapt up and sank its teeth into the sleeve of my pajama top. She tugged at it and dragged me.