As quick as I could, I dressed in black slacks, shiny black leather shoes, and a white button-down shirt. Possibly the most uncomfortable outfit I owned. Fixing my hair, I caught a glance at the guy in mirror staring back at me. He was tense. I hadn’t bothered to shave, needing to feel like I had control of something. Anything. Even if it was only my facial hair. I barely recognized myself. I was stressed. I looked like I was on my way to a job interview, or worse, court. Part of me was desperate to call Mia or Zoe and tell them what was going on. Confess what I’d been up to. I didn’t. This was my problem. My burden to bear. They didn’t deserve to get caught up in my shit. It was moments like this I missed Spencer the most. And Kane.
“Fuck it!”
So many times I wished I could punch Kane in the face for what he’d done, the fucking idiot. He ruined so many lives, including his own. All because he’d got caught up in the wrong crowd and addicted to drugs.
Throwing the comb back onto the sink, I watched as it bounced. I ignored it. Usually I kept my bathroom immaculate, right now though, I didn’t give a shit. I had somewhere I needed to be. Grabbing my watch from the window sill, I slipped it on my wrist and descended the stairs. If I didn’t leave soon, I’d be late.
Five hours later, I shuffled back through the front door. My shirt was untucked. My hair was all over the place. My hands were aching from the hours spent clenching fists, trying to hold back the anger bubbling inside me. The first hour I’d spent waiting. In a cluttered, impersonal, unprofessional waiting room. Alone. After giving the receptionist my name, she’d pointed me towards the waiting room and left me. Forty-five minutes into my wait, I’d started pacing. I couldn’t not. I was so wound up it was either walk off the nervous energy or explode. I wasn’t sure the waiting room would survive if I let go right now.
Eventually I was summoned into an office just as unappealing and unwelcoming as the waiting room. Three hours of questions. Three hours of being second guessed. Three hours of not being believed. Fuck, it pissed me off. Then just when I was about to burst, just when I was about to punch something, the question came that I didn’t want. The one question I’d been avoiding since the moment I’d bundled Zoe into the car and left town, barely pausing long enough to glance in the rear-view mirror.
“So, Derek, do you see yourself returning to your position?”
I knew it had been coming.
If I admitted the truth, I knew it was the whole reason for this meeting.
The whole purpose of this visit.
The issue was, I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t want one. I didn’t know if I was ready to go back. If I even could go back.
For weeks I’d been subjecting myself to the testing they required to see if I even could return. I’d passed the physical with flying colours, but that had never been a concern. Physically I was fine. It wasn’t like I got injured and that’s why I’d walked away. Mentally, I wasn’t sure I could go back, although I knew I’d never be put in the same situation again. After all, it wasn’t like I had a best friend these days I’d have to arrest. Or worse, bury.
As the thought crossed my mind, the house became too stuffy. As quickly as I could, I’d crossed the lounge and grabbed a beer from the fridge before heading for the back patio. The moment I slid open the door, the cool breeze cooled my burning skin. Only when I paused for a second did I realize I’d already chugged half the amber ale in one long swallow.
I sunk into the chair and watched as the sun sank and the inky darkness of night descended, the questions still circling in my head. Buzzing. Driving me insane. Thankfully, my heavy thoughts were intermittently interrupted by a pint-size pixie, which brought a smile to my lips. I should have been afraid how far she’d burrowed under my skin already, yet somehow that made me feel better. I just wish I could have talked to her about what was going on. But we weren’t there. Not yet, anyway.
Finishing my kebab, I wiped my hands on the paper napkin and pocketed my phone. I had to get my ass back to work. I could only hope the rest of the night would be over soon.
