Chapter twenty-five
The second I recognized the voice, anger replaced
the terror. I slammed my elbow back into Del’s stomach with everything I had in me. Pain radiated down my arm, but with a startled grunt, he let go.
I whirled around, ready to use my clutch as a deadly weapon. “What is wrong with you?”
He clutched his stomach, eyes wide. “Jesus, Sammy, that wasn’t necessary.”
I wanted to hit him again. “It wasn’t? You snuck up on me and put your hand over my mouth! Jesus, I thought you were going to...”
Straightening, he met my stare. “Do what? You had to have heard me walk up behind you. I wasn’t being exactly stealth about it.”
“But...” But I thought he hadn’t been real, just another auditory hallucination. Now I wanted to hit Dr. O’Connell. What if Del had been some kind of psycho? And I just stood there, telling myself he wasn’t real? I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. What
do you want?”
He looked wounded. “I just wanted to talk with you. You
did promise, by the way.”
I slipped my phone back into the clutch. “I didn’t promise
anything, and you’re here with Veronica—”
“I don’t care about Veronica!” A vein pulsed along his temple, and I took a weary step back. “I only came with her because
you’ve been avoiding me, not giving me a chance to talk to you.” Weeks later and he still wanted to fix things? Sad ... and
even a bit disturbing. I searched over his shoulder for Carson, but
the parking lot appeared empty.
“Did you really come here with Carson?” Del asked. “Like,
as a date?”
My eyes shot back to him. Upon closer inspection, I saw
that his cheeks were ruddy. Temper or alcohol? “Yes. He asked
me and I said yes.”
Del shook his head as he ran his tongue along the front of
his teeth. “So you’re dating Carson now?”
Our newly labeled relationship seemed too fragile to blast to
the entire world, but before I could say anything, the immediate
lack of response hit a sore spot with him. He cursed. “Carson
of all people? His dad works for your dad, Sammy. He’s below
a bottom-feeder.”
“He’s not a bottom-feeder!” I took a step forward, hands
shaking. “And I don’t care that his dad works for mine. It
doesn’t matter. Money doesn’t buy taste, personality, or common decency.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you saying Carson is better than me?” I didn’t want to stoop to that level, but ugly anger turned
me inside out. “Yes, he is better than you.”
“You know what? I wouldn’t have wasted almost four years
with you if I’d known what a complete and utter loser you were
going to turn into.” He took another step, towering over me. His
own fury rolled off him in dark, murky waves. “I would’ve stood
by you, too. While everyone is calling you Insanity Sam, I’ve
backed you up, protected you! I’ve kept my mouth shut.” “Kept your mouth shut about what?”
“What? You can’t figure it out? I know, Sammy,” he sneered.
“You can forget loyalty. You screwed that up. And you’re nothing without me.”
I recoiled, stung by the venom lacing his words. And what
was I supposed to know that he knew? Before I could demand
answers, another voice, cold and hard, intruded.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Carson said from behind
him, startling both of us. “She’s actually about a thousand times
better without you.”
Del spun around. “Why? Because she’s screwing—” Carson’s fist slammed into Del’s jaw. There was a fleshy
sound, and then Del’s head jerked back. He folded like a deck
of cards, hitting the ground and rolling onto his side, clutching
his jaw.
“You know, I was sort of jealous when I found out Scott got
to give you that black eye,” Carson said, shaking his right hand.
“But then I told myself to be patient. You’d give us another reason
to knock the living shit out of you.”
“What an odd thing to be patient for,” I mumbled. He ignored me. “Listen to me clearly, Del. Don’t talk to her.
Don’t even look at her again. If you do, you can trust that a busted
jaw isn’t anything close to what I will do to you. Got that?” Del grunted something in reply that suspiciously sounded
like a string of four-letter words.
Coming to my side, Carson leaned in, his lips brushing
across my cheek as he spoke. “I think we should get out of here
before I hit him again.”
I glanced over his shoulder. Del was picking himself up off the ground, leaning against a car for support. My hand found Carson’s and squeezed. “I think you’re right.”
Part of me wasn’t surprised that the night ended with fists being thrown. On the way home, I told Carson about the memory I had but kept Del’s cryptic words to myself because I didn’t know what they meant. Like me, he seemed excited about this development. At first.
“This is a good thing. Maybe you’re starting to remember everything....” He trailed off, focusing on the road.
I studied him in the darkness of the truck cab. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, and several moments passed. “You remembering what happened is dangerous. I don’t like to think that whoever was responsible is someone close to you, but if that person knew you were starting to piece together that night...”
I swallowed, looking away. My memories were dangerous, but they were also the key to the truth. I shook my head as if I could shake off the fear starting to cling to my skin.
“And that’s not all,” he admitted after a few minutes.
“It’s not?”
Carson gave a slight smile. “I hate myself for even thinking this, because I know how important getting your memories back is, but if you get your memories back—”
“Will I be like I am now or like the old Sammy?” I finished for him, chagrined. “I don’t know, Carson. I like to think that, if anything, I’ve gotten a second chance at a personality improvement, and that won’t go away.”