Chapter 3: 3
The chill of the night surrounded them, and maybe this was why Becca felt frozen to the spot. Otherwise it was the stranger who now approached her, towering and cloaked in darkness. She stayed put, holding Dylan's head as the blood continued to flow, and she was silent.
"Are you afraid, Ms. Born?"
The figure stepped into the light of the window, and Becca sat back in awe. Not only did this stranger know her name, but he must have come from somewhere beyond this Earth. He was a different type of beautiful, something she had only seen in the deepest of her dreams. He stood over her, tall and looming. He wasn't particularly large, but she could see his muscles through the long-sleeved red button-up shirt, and his chocolate brown hair fell into his face when he looked down on her. Through his hair she could see his eyes, emerald green with specks of gold throughout them, and they seemed to glow in the darkened corner. His lips pouted naturally, even now, when he smiled at her, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.
"I would be afraid too."
For a moment, she forgot to be afraid. Instead, she got angry.
"Did you kill him?" she asked accusingly, holding Dylan almost protectively.
He frowned at her, then looked down at Dylan. As if his look could physically affect it, Dylan gained weight in her arms, the kind of weight that the dead are missing, the weight of the soul. She felt a weak breath from his nose, and a soft flush appeared in his cheeks.
"He isn't dead. Just barely clinging to his worthless life. Tell me, Rebecca, why are you so concerned about this man? Are you so naive that you don't realize what he was going to do to you?"
She shot him an awful glare. He merely grinned and kneeled next to her in his black pants. He was slightly too close for her comfort, but she found that she couldn't shift away. Dylan was still lying there unconscious, breathing softly in her arms.
"Let me tell you something, darling. You're definitely getting into heaven, from what I've seen. But, since tonight is your very unlucky night, you're going to have to make a deal with the devil."
Her mind captured his words slowly. He was speaking to her like a small child, yet she couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying. The devil? Heaven? She wasn't overly religious, but she knew there was something beyond her simple life here. There had to be some greater being, because she could feel it sometimes, in her highest moments and her darkest. Something had its hand on her shoulder, guiding her.
"Is that who you are then? The devil?" She asked, but it sounded more like a sarcastic remark than a question.
Carter looked surprised, and then he laughed. His laugh, much like his voice, was musical.
"Of course I'm not the devil." He was nearly crying. She must have really amused him. "I'm just a demon. There is a huge difference."
Now it was Becca's turn to laugh, a slightly nervous laugh. Of course he was joking now, working at her while she was vulnerable.
"Look, I appreciate you trying to be a hero and all, but this damsel-in-distress is going to be okay. And I have to get him some help."
He looked down at Dylan with distaste, then he stood up.
"Mortals. Fools, all of you. You don't believe me, after all that I just did? What more of a performance do you need? I appear out of nowhere in your moment of need, do away with your danger, then approach you from the shadows to tell you you 're alright. Plus," he waved his hand at himself, up and down. "What kind of normal person looks like this?"
Again, she wanted to laugh. He couldn't be serious? Yet everything he said was true, down to the point he made about his appearance.
"Aren't demons supposed to endorse sins? Whatever he was about to do wouldn't have been against any of your moral conducts, I'm sure."
Carter stared at her incredulously.
"Seriously? You think we endorse that?"
She shrugged, gaining her a disapproving tch from Carter. He turned his back on her, and put his forehead in one hand.
"Mortals." He repeated. "Stand up, Rebecca."
She opened her mouth to retaliate, to tell him he couldn't make her stand if she didn't want to. Instead, she found herself upright on both of her feet, Dylan now crumpled on the ground beneath her. Carter looked on to gauge her reaction.
"Nothing? Well, it seems I may have to up my game. This way, please."
The same thing happened again, now she was walking towards him against her will, without any movement on her part. She stepped forward until she was inches away from him, and it seemed like the pressure was gone from her. This sudden release made her fall forwards, into this strange man's arms.
"Do you believe that I did that?" He asked in a whisper close to her ear. "I just controlled your body, Rebecca. You understand that, don't you darling?"
She looked up into his eyes, which were so close to hers, and she tried not to believe him. She could have impulsively done this herself, or…some explanation had to make sense. He had to be playing mind games with her, because if he wasn't… she shook her head.
"Still no? How unfortunate. I guess you humans just refuse to believe anything that doesn't make sense, right? Even if we were levitating now, I suppose you still wouldn't believe me."
With a wave of shock and an alarmed gasp, she looked down to see that the ground was now several feet below her. She gripped Carters arms tightly, and he laughed a little. She looked all around and she could see the second level of Lavie, the people inside the windows and out on the balcony. Even though some of the people were facing them, they didn't seem at all disturbed that the pair was floating. In fact, they looked straight forward and past them as if they weren't there at all.
"I'm going to let go."
Anxiety overtook her. She spun her head to look at him, and his eyes laughed at her. She was holding onto him tighter now, but she felt her fingers slowly release his shirt, once again beyond her control. A daring smile crossed his face, and his hands slipped from her waist so that she wasn't touching him anymore. She let a tiny scream escape her lips and squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the terrible sensation of falling through air, followed by sudden impact. It never came. Her eyes slowly unclenched, her face slowly relaxed. Carter was standing a few feet from her, still in midair, studying her. She glanced down just to check, and sure enough, her feet were still standing in the air as if some invisible glass floor lay beneath.
"How are you doing this?" She cried, not daring to move a muscle. "Am I dreaming? Are you…" She looked at him in amazement. "Are you even real?"
She found herself smiling despite her situation, as a giddy joy overtook her body and overwhelmed every sense. Carter was smiling too, even chuckling at her childish ramblings.
"Ms. Born, dreams are merely your mind trying to show you the things you refuse to see in real life. Things like fantastical beasts, angels, monsters, magic. It isn't safe to have them presented to you in any way except a dream or fantasy." He took a small step towards her.
"You can move?" She saw her feet, but the thought of moving them was intimidating.
"Of course. Just look at me, its easier. I promise I won't drop you." He winked at her, and it made her heart jump to her throat.
She locked eyes with him. Instead of thinking about what she was about to do, she thought about what was happening. She was standing in the sky, controlled by a so-called demon, the barely-breathing body of one of her friends below them. How on Earth she always found herself in these situations was beyond her, so she took a chance. She lifted one foot, and let herself fall backwards, and this time, she really did fall.
A cry of sudden surprise.
A whoosh of wind.
A single tear, falling…up.
She was standing on her feet, on the concrete sidewalk. Back down on Earth, everything came back into focus. Carters hair was a mess, strands standing upright in every direction. He was perspiring slightly, and he looked annoyed.
"Are you mad?" He asked, putting his hands on his knees.
She calmly looked down at Dylan, then back at the man before her.
"I believe you now." She said.
He looked up; surprise written in his features. Shaking his head, he lowered himself to the ground and sat, legs crossed.
"You had to attempt suicide for me to earn your respect? We could be having a very different conversation right now, the kind where I escort your soul somewhere very bad, because suicide is an unforgivable sin."
She ignored him. "Can we take care of him?" She pointed to Dylan, whose bloodied face was beginning to lose its color again.
Carter glared at the limp body. He didn't seem to want to do anything about it. Rebecca remembered his remark about finishing him off, and she knew she had to intervene. Maybe she could save someone's life tonight.
"Help me get him to a hospital, and I'll listen to what you have to say on the way there." She didn't know if she really wanted to hear it, but it seemed like a deal breaker.
He blew a long breath out his nose and stood up.
"I don't normally do this. However, in this case, I suppose it has to be done." He kicked Dylan's arm over. "Just know that he deserves to die for his intentions."
She didn't care. She couldn't bring herself to condemn anyone to death, especially when he hadn't actually done anything. He hadn't gotten the chance to. Carter began lifting him up, pulling his arm over one shoulder.
"My cars around here." He mumbled, obviously disgruntled. He headed around the corner of the building.
Becca timidly followed him. Her shots were really starting to set in now, and not in a good way. From her experience, whiskey plus excitement equaled nothing good. She held her stomach carefully, and tiptoed around the pools of water on the sidewalk.
For some reason, she didn't feel at all out of place. Like it was completely normal to follow a man you just met to his car, much less dragging an unconscious third party. She felt normal, aside from the swirling liquor in her stomach. Maybe she should have been anxious, even terrified, but she wasn't. She was entirely calm, composed, and approaching Carters car.
"Whoa."
The car was a sleek black model she had never seen before. Ryan had shown her many cars; they were a passion of his. This car, however, was unlike any she had ever been shown. It was long and low, with two suicide doors and a convertible top. The most eye-catching feature about it was the body, because it looked as though the car was covered in reptilian scales, layered row upon row all over the car. These scales reflected a greenish light, making the whole car seem to glow in a sinister light. As they got nearer, she ran her hand over the hood, feeling the rough texture of the scales beneath her fingers.
"She looks a lot better in the light." Carter said. He had successfully secured Dylan in the backseat of the car and seat belted him in. Now he moved to the passenger side and opened the door for her. "We haven't got long."
She ducked into the car, which was mostly dark inside. The windows and windshield were tinted, and the interior was covered in a silky black fabric on the seats, and more cold black metal features on the dashboard. There were buttons here with symbols that she didn't recognize, but before she could inspect them closer, the opposite door swung open and Carter got in.
"Seatbelt please."
She had completely forgotten to buckle up. The two of them both reached for their belts and drew them across themselves, almost in sync. Without the typical turn of a key, the car started, purring to life like a big cat.
"Shall we?" Carter smiled dryly at her and put both hands on the steering wheel. They maneuvered out of the parking lot and out onto the open road.
"So." was all he said. They were going smoothly on the highway with little traffic. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, facing herself towards him.
"I'm listening. Whatever you have to say, I will try my hardest to trust you."
He rubbed his neck and cocked an eyebrow. "What happened to already believing me?"
"I said I believe that you're not human. And that you have some kind of magical powers. Possibly that I'm not dreaming. Otherwise, what have you said for me to believe?"
"Well, the term for 'not human' is pronounced demon. My "magical powers' are called Hellspent Magic, which is something you will probably never understand, and no. You're not dreaming, as we have pre-established." Pause. "But there is something else. Since Mr. Hands over here was about to commit a U.S., I had to intervene."
Now she was sitting sideways on the seat with her legs folded up next to her, listening intently.
"Why? If Hell is where sinners go, don't you want more people to sin and become part of your demon army, or something?"
"Or something." He laughed. "When sinners die, they don't become demons. They become a kind of soul-based creature that has to suffer a certain sentence down there. After their debt to the world is paid, and they have suffered every sin they have ever committed, they can be sent off with the Angels. This only happens if the bad things outweigh the good ones, which happens less often than you think. However," his face grew grim. "When someone commits an unforgivable sin, or a U.S., they have to go to this special place. They aren't even allowed a chance at the big wheel in the sky, they're automatically stuck. Now they're our problem. We have to deal with an angry, suffering, and immensely evil soul. Every day they try to escape, because they want to go to Heaven. I honestly can't blame them, but you see, there isn't a way for them to get where they're trying to go. So they end up here, in the Middle Ground, and either inhabit a perfectly good person and make them do horrible things, or they transform into something worse, like a plague or a famine. It's all very tricky business, and that's where guardian angels and such come in and protect people, as well as try to prevent the U.S."
She sat back in amazement, processing everything he was saying. He was speaking so easily that she didn't dare think he was making it up as he went along. It was like he was reciting from memory.
"What are the unforgivable sins?"
"Oh, awful stuff. Rape," He said pointedly. "Premeditated murder, a certain degree of greed, suicide, the like. Things that people can't forgive you for, hence the name. Also, if you lie about something, and the lie goes so far that it ends up hurting someone very badly."
Becca looked out the window. A part of her felt strangely sick, because she knew Ryan had definitely committed one of those sins. The thought of him suffering for eternity in a hellish cell ran around her mind.
"So why did you save me? Isn't that what guardian angels are for?" She tried to smoothly change the subject.
"Well," his brow furrowed. "You didn't seem to have an angel around, and I was in the neighborhood. I just figured that I should. It's beneficial for both sides. And that's where the tricky part comes in."
He pulled into the parking lot, lit brightly by the lights of the hospital. He parked close to the front, and began to get out of the car.
"Wait, what's the tricky part?"
"Stay in the car, Rebecca."
She waited a moment to see if he would use his power to force her, but she found her hands could still reach for the door handle. She got out of the car and circled around the other side, where Carter was lifting Dylan from the back seat. He didn't notice her at first, but when he did, his pouting lips fell into a disapproving stare.
"I said stay in the car. You really should listen to me, considering I just saved your life and kidnapped you."
"I don't think this count as kidnapping, since I came willingly. I just want to know what you mean by 'the tricky part.'"
He was walking away, ignoring her. She stomped her foot and began to follow him, up the ramp and through the first set of automatic doors to the hospital. Carter stopped suddenly, and carelessly dropped Dylan just inside the doors. Then he turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction.
"Hey," she looked at Dylan's crumpled form. "Aren't we going to take him to a doctor?"
Carter just kept walking, heading back to his car. She ran to catch up to him, and stood in front of him, blocking his path.
"Hello? He needs help." She waved at him, flustered.
"He doesn't deserve to be brought even this far. Don't you know? He was going to rape you, he was going to hurt you, he was going to kill you when he was done with you! Can you imagine what that's like?"
To his surprise, Rebecca fell down on her knees and began to sob. She covered her face with her hands and shook uncontrollably, Carter stared, a little bewildered at the sight of her, kneeling on the asphalt.
"Ms. Born?" He whispered. He bent his knees, squatting down so that he was nearly level with her. "Has someone hurt you before, like that?"
She looked up, one hand still over her mouth, the other supporting her body on the pavement. She wanted to tell him with her eyes what she couldn't bear to say out loud. She wanted him to know that he was hurting her, but at the same time she felt too ashamed to acknowledge that she had been hurt.
"I see." Miraculously, he seemed to understand. He stood up straight and looked around, then glanced down at her. He seemed content to let her cry there, just for the moment. Maybe he knew that she needed to. The mixture of stirring whiskey and tears flooded her, her vision, her thoughts. It all became too much, and she gave in. She threw up there on the ground, until she felt like there wasn't anything left to come out of her. Her breath caught, and she cried harder.
Before she knew what was happening, she felt strong arms around her, and she was swept upwards into the air. Carter had scooped up her tired body and was carrying her like a limp doll. She reluctantly put her arms around his neck and held on. He walked to his car, and the door opened by itself. He laid her on the seat, which had reclined several inches backwards. Instead of closing the door, he squatted next to her, outside the car.
"Are you alright?" His voice was soft, lined with concern.
She gazed up; her vision still blurry. She couldn't see much of his face, but she could see his eyes, clear as day. They were surprisingly full of emotion and kindness, especially for someone who was supposed to be a creature like a demon. He had one hand on her exposed knee, the way one does when steadying someone, even just with a touch.
"I'm okay." She said groggily, and tried to sit up. Her head spun, and she began to fall forward. Carter watched her eyes roll in her head, and he pushed her back into the seat.
"You most certainly are not. Sit still for a few moments. You've had a pretty exciting night."
Unexpectedly, she put her hand out, as if asking for his. He looked at it with uncertainty, but placed his in hers, intertwining their fingers and resting the couple on her thigh.
"Carter?"
"Yes?"
"Tell me about the tricky part."
His fingers slackened a bit, and she heard a soft sigh escape his lips. She also heard a rustling noise and looked over. In his hand was a paper, slightly crumpled. He handed it to her free hand, and looked away.
This document states that a Ms. Rebecca Genesis Born has been fortunate enough to have her well-being protected by one of our demons. Her guardian angel was not minding the subject, and one of our devils had to intervene. Thus, Ms. Born owes the demon in question, Carter Jones, a debt of one personal favor. An eye for an eye, as stated in conduct code number 13. If this debt is not paid by the time of demise, Ms. Born will suffer a twenty-year penalty in the Under Ground.
Signed, Machata Tai
Reigning Sector Seven Demon
"A personal favor? For saving my life? That hardly seems tricky, or important enough for a contract." She looked the paper over again, then closed her eyes. "I just have to have it done before I die or I'm going to hell?"
"Basically." He drew out the y, making her uncertain. He rubbed his neck, something she had seen him do several times before.
"What's the matter with that?"
He didn't answer. He seemed to be purposely avoiding telling her, but she wasn't having that.
"Carter, tell me!"
"Alright!" He slammed a hand down to the ground, making her jump. "The fact is, I wasn't supposed to help you, right? It's your angel's job. Some would argue that I didn't have your best interests in mind. I did, in any case." He glanced up apologetically. "Also, seeing as your 'demise' was supposed to be tonight…" he paused to let his words sink in.
She blinked. It hadn't occurred to her that Dylan would have killed her, not in reality. Again her mind jumped to Ted Bundy, and she gulped.
"Well, since I interrupted your death, this contract is incorrect. Now, if this favor you owe me isn't completed within 24 hours, you have to pay the sentence anyways. Immediately."
She didn't know what to say. All she could do was stare at the roof of the car and think.
000
"What a night!" Someone next to her said. She was sitting along the wall at Lavie, on one of the many barstools that circled the great room that was level four. A broad man with blue eyes and a sharp jaw had plopped onto the seat next to her. He was sweaty, probably from the wild dancing that was happening in the center of the room. He turned and smiled at her in a charming manner, and she returned it half-heartedly.
"Why the long face, stranger?" He asked, playfully elbowing her. "It's a party! Get up and dance, have some fun, get shitty. That's what it's all about."
She grimaced. "I guess so."
He studied her for a moment, then stuck out his hand. "My names Ryan Lexington."
"Rebecca Born." She shook his hand. He had a firm grip and he held on a moment longer than necessary.
"Tell me, Rebecca, what's got you so down? It's a great night."
"If you must know, I'm waiting for my friend. He's running late and he's my ride. I've been here long enough to see seven blondes puke." She frowned. "It isn't any of your business, you know."
Just then, her cell phone buzzed. She pulled it out, the lights reflecting off of the shiny red case, and opened her notifications.
Hey. Can't come to Lavie tonight, my mom just went to the hospital. Fell down the stairs again, tripping over a damn cat. Have fun tonight, okay? See you on Tuesday.
"Well." She set it down on her leg. "I guess he's not coming."
Ryan had been watching her with interested eyes, but now his expression turned sympathetic.
"Are you going to need a ride home?" he asked.
She thought warily about his question. He didn't seem like much of a threat, but she wasn't likely to be getting into a car with any random stranger who offered her a ride. Then again, she didn't have any other way of getting home.
"You have a drivers license?" she asked.
"Of course I do."
"Can I see it?"
He pulled out his wallet and handed her his ID card, a quizzical expression on his face. She held the shiny piece of plastic in her hands, studying the picture. It was a real picture, one of a slightly younger Ryan with that same jubilant smile. His birthday read 08/28/86. He was two years older than her at her 23.
"Okay. I'll let you take me home."
He grinned and stood up, waiting for her to follow him. He then led her towards the elevator and stepped inside. Luckily, anyone who wanted to party was already there, and anyone who wanted to leave was probably too drunk to do so, so there was light elevator traffic. Once they were at the bottom, he stepped out the lobby doors and into the cold night air. Rebecca was wearing a mostly sheer, see-through red dress, and the cold made her shiver and fold her arms.
"What were you thinking?" he laughed at her discomfort, but he shed the black sports coat he was wearing and wrapped it around her shoulders. "There."
She thanked him and pulled the coat in tight to her body. It was warm from the heat of his that still remained, and smelled like peppermint. He caught her smelling the sleeve and chuckled again. They walked awhile to his car in silence, since he had parked in a further lot. When they arrived, they were standing in front of a flaming-orange Chevy Corvette.
"This is a pretty nice car." She said, running her finger along the hood. "Bet she cost a buck."
Ryan stood back and admired the car, looking at it like a proud father. "Yeah, she was expensive. But she was worth it."
Rebecca opened the car door, wondering how a simple man on the fourth floor of Lavie, wearing the most casual clothes in the house could afford a car like this. Then a thought struck her like a bullet, and she sat bolt upright in her seat.
"Did you say your last name was Lexington?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, why?"
"Ryan Lexington, the owner of LexaCorp? Like, the millionaire Ryan Lexington?"
He put his hands up like he was being arrested, smiling all the while. "Oh no, I've been caught."
She sat back, dumbfounded. She was sitting in a millionaire's corvette, wearing his jacket, and hitching a ride home. Braxton would have died at this news. He was enamored with LexaCorps numerous products, like the new hair gel they had just released. LexaCorp was a multi-million-dollar men's wellness business, and the man next to her owned it all.
"I'm going to need an autograph for my friend. He loves everything you make, especially the makeup pallet you released last fall."
He smiled and nodded. "Ill sign his autograph, Dear beloved customer, don't leave pretty girls at clubs or they may get kidnapped by millionaires."
She laughed, because apparently that was what happened when Brax didn't show up. Suddenly she felt underdressed and out of place, sitting next to someone like Ryan Lexington. She didn't even want to know what he would think of her apartment, which had to be tiny compared to whatever mansion he lived in.
"So, where do you live?" He was pulling a GPS up on his phone.
She told him the coordinates, and they set off on the short drive from Lavie to her home. He didn't know that she liked to take the longer back roads, so she forgave the city route he took. Instead, she reached for the radio. Ryan raised an eyebrow at her, and she pulled back.
"I'm sorry, I should have asked." She said sheepishly. "I just haven't been in a car without any music in a while."
He nodded and motioned at the dial, allowing her to turn it on. She flipped through a couple stations until she heard something she liked, and then she stopped. Ryan looked at her, then back at the road.
"This is some old stuff. Don't you listen to Beyonce or something?"
Europe's The Final Countdown was blaring in his sound system, so she only just caught his words. Without giving a spoken answer, she shook her head and turned the music up four notches. He laughed as she began to sing along to every word, catching each syllable perfectly. Every note, she knew how long to hold it. Every instrumental, she could recite. He tried to focus on the road, but swerved several times from devoting his attention the girl in his passenger seat, singing her heart out.
They reached her apartment quickly. He pulled into the spot next to her Explorer, and shifted into park.
"So, you like 80s huh?" He grinned.
She nodded and began to slip out of his jacket. He held up a hand to stop her, making her pause.
"Keep it. Remember the night that the random guy from the club turned out to be a famous person. Don't let your friend steal it from you, though."
She laughed, but shook her head. "You've already displayed your kindness; I can't take this too. It's too much."
Now he shook his head rapidly. "There's never enough kindness. I insist." He winked at her. "Keep the jacket, and well just say you owe me a favor in return. Is that better?"
She nodded, pulling the soft, sweet-smelling jacket back up onto her shoulders.
"What kind of favor, Mr. Lexington?"
He didn't even have to think. "Let me take you to dinner. Saturday, I have a seven o'clock reservation."
000
"Well, what do you want?" she asked, not looking away from the ceiling.
She heard Carter laugh softly, and then sigh.
"Well, I have an idea, but I'll tell you in the morning. You've had enough excitement for one night."
She didn't really think that was fair, but she nodded anyways and closed her eyes. This whole ordeal with Dylan had landed her in more trouble than she had expected. The fact that he intended to kill after… well, she couldn't think about it. Instead she simply sat in the car, holding Carter's hand, and trying not to be nauseated again.
"I should take you back to Braxton."
Just like that, the peace was shattered. His fingers slipped from hers, and the world spun. Of course she had forgotten about Brax. He was probably worried sick after coming back to the spot he had left her and finding her gone, nowhere to be found. She found herself wanting to cry again, but she bit her lip to fight it back. With one more worried look in her direction, Carter closed the door and walked to the driver's side of the car. They drove down the road and all the way back to Lavie, at nearly one in the morning.
"Are you going to be able to get in there okay?" He asked, glancing at the building, whose lights were still glowing brightly.
"I just have to find Brax."
"Well, he's still upstairs, if that's any help."
She nodded and shakily got out of the car.
"Rebecca." Before she closed the door, he spoke again. "Be careful. I'm not sure why you don't have an angel tonight, but you won't always have a kindly demon around to save you."
Nodding again, she closed the door and walked towards the building. Halfway there, she kicked off her heels and carried them. The elevator was empty again, and she rode quietly to the top by herself. When the doors opened, she scanned the scene for Braxton. The people up here were getting to be very sluggish, most of them ready to go home. She kept searching from her one point, trying to find the blonde hair that usually stood out so sharply to her. All of a sudden, two hands wrapped around her from behind, nearly crushing her, and she caught her breath.
"Becs! There you are. I was starting to get really worried about you, I came back with drinks, but you and Dylan were gone."
He spun her around to face him and smiled. He didn't seem upset that she had abandoned him, more interested in where she had been. This came as a relief to her because she didn't know whether or not she could handle him being mad at her right now. Then again, what would she tell him? That she had spent the night running around with a demon because his friend had tried to rape her? She couldn't.
"Yeah, I went to the bathroom for a second, but the one up here was so full of people I went downstairs and ran into someone, they talked my ear off. I finally got away though, so here I am." She gave half-hearted jazz hands. "Can we go home?"
Worry furrowed in his brow. "Are you okay? You aren't wearing your shoes, and you want to go home?"
It was a bit strange, because Becca was known for lasting hours at a party in much higher heels than this. She didn't have time to explain it to him, so she just nodded. He didn't seem to mind, so he followed her back to the elevator and all the way out to his car, nearly silently.
"Did you have fun Becs?" He asked, hopping into his seat. "First night back fun?"
She sat down lamely. She wasn't sure how to respond to him, because she hated lying to her best friend. He wouldn't understand, or he wouldn't believe her.
"I had a lot to drink." she said simply.
"I see." He grabbed her leg and squeezed it. "Let's get you home. You need a bubble bath and bedtime."
In all reality, just bedtime sounded great, but she didn't have the heart to tell him that. She just wanted to go to sleep.
"What happened to Dylan?"
Her head shot up, surprised. She thought for a moment that he knew, and her heart was racing. After a bit she realized he only meant to ask where he had gone. The picture of his bloodied face was stuck with her, however, and it made her voice shake.
"I'm not sure."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone