Chapter 13 - A journey Together

I had asked around.

I yearned to know which classes Dean was in as I was growing ever so impatient. It had been a mere day since I asked him to find out but I could not wait. Heartless, as I spoke to certain students about his timetable, they recalled their lessons in which he attended, a distasteful look smeared across their faces. Tuesday afternoon, his last lesson, consisted of English with Miss Terry. I had a free lesson yet I was brimmed with such an intense need to find out that I spent the hour studying until ten minutes before the end of the lesson, where I rushed to wait outside his room.

I glanced as each student walked out of the room, dispersing into the narrow halls. My heart hastened in pace when I saw his hair in the crowd of students fleeing from the classroom. His scowl seemed to fit him perfectly. Of course he was the last to leave and I wouldn't be surprised if he sat at the back of the classroom away from everyone. His gaze met my own and a small crease formed between his brows, I took a step closer to him and barely managed a smile as his confused expression made me feel like a nuisance.

"How was your lesson ?" I asked him as we walked, well, he walked and I followed. We didn't look as though we were walking together at all: there was distance and a difference between our walking speeds.

"Small talk ?" He groaned, looking in the direction he was walking whilst I had my eye on the side of his face.

"Well you seem like you're in a rush so i'll be quick. Did you find out about anything, like you said you would ?" I quizzed him, hopeful and on edge.

His silence brought fear into my mind.

"Dean." I demanded. Yet said and did nothing. No response.

"Dean." I called out his name again, this time more urgency in my tone.

He stopped, we were in the quiet hallway in the science ward: the quietest part of the school. Looking down at me slightly, he tensed his jaw and then searched around us. There was no one else.

Just him and I.

"Tell me, please." I begged with a small voice.

"Somewhere else." He ordered, still avoiding my eyes and peering behind me.

"Come with me." He ushered and I did exactly that.

In silence, we walked at a fast pace towards the exit of the school and into the car park, I presumed. During our journey, we hadn't spoken a word, instead we both seemed to be lost in thought. Though, his fast paced walk alongside his tight fists implied a sense of anger and I didn't know why. He would constantly make me question if it was I that had done something wrong.

He held the door for me, not turning but holding his hand behind his back, then we continued our walk as we left the building. His seemingly chivalrous act caused me to question whether he did this so we could get there faster rather than being a gentleman. The car park was not exactly quiet. There were numerous students still leaving school and some stood beside their cars. Some eyes were on us. This didn't seem to bother either of us.

I continued to match his actions: I sat in his luxurious car and buckled up my seatbelt. At this point, my heart rate was intensified alongside my curiosity. The engine roared as he turned on the car and we began leaving the car park. The only sound was the tires against the tarmac road.

I tucked a piece of my blonde hair behind my right ear and examined him. The same foul and angry yet painfully plain expression had made its way onto his face again. His black bomber jacket appeared tight as his hands moved, steering the wheel and adjusting certain mechanics within the car that I knew nothing of.

"Can you tell me now ?" I broke the silence. I didn't dare look at his reaction because each time he scowled, I felt like a child who had done something terribly wrong. Instead, I peered through my window on the left, the trees that we occasionally passed had merged into clouds of green and the amber sky warmed my face as the beams of light danced past the glass.

"Im warning you that you wont like what you have to hear. I can't bear to listen your constant moaning either." He warned and my chest rose and fell quicker, but I forced myself to resist from making an outburst in regards to the way he spoke to me as I knew he was a man of his word. He would gladly kick me out of this car.

"Okay, i'll be quiet." I submissively replied and watched as he talked, his eyes on the road.

"Your father didn't kill him -." I sighed in relief and he turned quickly, darting his eyes at me and back at the road. Causing the stress to rise again within me.

"- but Vincent did. Your Dad isn't innocent, he asked my father to get rid of the man. He pleaded to him with money and favours." Dean explained. My eyes teared up, I could feel the fogginess and small stinging in my eyes yet I wouldn't allow myself to weep. My father was still as gruesome as I feared regardless of whether or not the blood was on his hands first.

"The man deserved it though. He had once stolen some of your father's product and my own father had many run-ins with him. So his death is one that didn't just benefit you." He explained, it was as though he felt the stinging in my heart and attempted to make me feel better. I reminded myself that I put myself into this situation, I forced him to tell me.

I looked at him with a frown and then back at the road, wondering how I actually felt.

"He had it coming." He stated dryly.

"No one deserves to die." I spat, gazing at his frustrated look. His under-eyes had dark circles and his bruising seemed to still be quite present. Then a fresh bruise, just behind the collar of his grey sweatshirt peaked through. I returned my gaze to the road which was now a motorway.

"Not even me: the gruesome, heartless and utterly fucked up monster that walks the school grounds terrorising the fragile youths ?" He asked mockingly. He seemed proud of his title.

"No." I decided. I knew he had killed before and that the Australian woman had a rightful reason to hate him. I knew that he had been in physical alterations and caused purposeful pain to others. But he was young, possibly led into this life by his father and didn't know how to be any different.

"No ?" He repeated.

"I've learned that there's always a good person behind their bad actions." I declared, my father in my mind.

"Oh grow up will you? All these positive, fairytale ideals are just stories Cora. There are people who have no good inside them, no mercy or care for others. How can you be this ignorant ?" He spiralled with a deep, irritated voice. His free arm waving around as he spoke from a place of anger.

I stared at him, sadness is all I felt. He had this view on the world, a pessimistic and broken view. How could someone live a life feeling such immense hate and anger. I lowered my eyes to my hands, playing with my ring as I thought. Maybe we had our similarities.

"What happened to make you have such a pessimistic view on the world?" I queried with a soft, quiet voice. Again, I kept my eyes from his. This question was absurd and forward, yet I wanted to know. Looking at him caused me a pain I wasn't acquainted to, he looked as though he was trapped within himself and needed to get out. That he sat in a mental prison with his memories taunting him.

He swallowed and I looked up. I somewhat expected his silence.

"As you know already, I have to do things for my father. Much like you keep you father's life, private, my father's private life has become my own life." He explained, pulling into a side road found between the forest motorway.

"That exact life opened my eyes to reality, not some rose tinted view that you have." He stopped the car.

"We're simply inheriting their throne and replacing them." He grunted, pulling the key out of the ignition and leaving the car hastily. I joined.

The smell of the fresh vegetation, clean air and soil overwhelmed my senses. We were at the side of a cliff, a cliff that he walked eerily close to.

I decided to keep my distance.

"I'm not inheriting anything." I huffed and folded my arms, warming myself up: I had worn a black leather jacket, a white crop top and blue ripped jeans. I regrettably stared at my wardrobe choice and then back up at him. My eyes widened as his back was no longer facing me and instead he was walking closer to me.

"You already have: his secrets, his past and look at where you work. A bar full of dangerous convicts." He stated huskily, his eyes darting into my own. The intensity of the situation caused me to move my head to the left and look at the view.

There was no one but us, the roads were empty and the cliff itself was at such a height that I didn't dare inch closer as he did.

"Has your father ordered you to kill me ?" I asked in a lighthearted manner, aware of the killing scenes from horror movies and how this area would be perfect for it. I almost gasped at how quickly I spoke my thoughts. I knew he wouldn't react well.

"That's not fucking funny Cora." He growled, closer to me with an intimidating stance. My heart fastened in pace and my focus was all on him. He was entirely serious.

"Because he could call me right now and tell me to kill you and I'd have to." He stated simply.

"But you wouldn't." I assured, shaking my head and looking at his dark eyes.

"I would." He snarled. Our bodies were inches apart, I could sense the adrenaline rushing through me as though my body was warning me to run, yet my mind did not. He didn't seem all that monstrous. It wasn't him.

"No." I blurted. His jaw tensed and his hands rinsed through his hair harshly. He looked around again and then at me, a hint of wildness in them.

"No ? I thought you were smarter than the rest of your friends. But it turns out you're in a fucking fantasy world Cora. I have to do what he says, the blood of the people i've hurt and killed lives on my fingertips everyday. I don't get the privilege of sitting and watching my father be a monster like you do -" He furiously stammered.

"- because he turned me into one." He concluded icily. This is where my sadness for him reached a point, he was made if not forced, to become this. He had no say.

"It's his blood Dean. His. It just remains on you." I corrected with a calming undertone. He didn't receive it well as he scrunched his face and tensed his entire body.

"I held them whilst their bodies bled, becoming lifeless. I was the last person they saw. I'm the one they beg for a second chance. Killing is the purpose my father sees within me and if I don't, well -" He paused and waved his arm towards the edge of the cliff. He nudged his head towards the edge and I walked towards it, confused as to what he had to show me.

A tear gathered in my eye as my mind processed the view: a bottomless pit of broken car parts scattered at the bottom of the floor, as though a thousand cars had once fell off the cliff and resided there. The metal was rustic, some were newer and you could barely even see them due to the amount of trees that lived amongst it all.

" - i'd end up there, with all of them." He whispered. Chills erupted down my spine as I didn't expect him to be close. With a heavy heart, I turned to him.

"He would do that ?" I asked him with concern, searching his eyes for their emotion.

"If he had to then yes, in a heartbeat." He admitted, our gazing eyes deep in thought. There was a smooth tone to his words, it was the surest I had seen him.

"How are you so sure ?" I sympathetically asked and I watched something flicker in his eyes, they drifted towards the view in front of us. Those glistening, warm brown orbs were addictive to watch. His entire mood could be known by simply staring at them, only sometimes. The other times I didn't know what thoughts his mind landed on, or what ticked inside of him that made him ruffle his dark locks.

"My mother didn't like what he was doing to me so one day, after a lot of drinking, he decided she was a liability-" My brows furrowed and I turned to look at the direction he was facing. His face was glued in that direction of the cliff.

Again, I found my heart wrenching for him. The peaceful view of valleys, rivers and trees was nothing but a painful graveyard to him.

"She's there ?" I pondered, now facing him again. It was a struggle for him to remove his face from staring at it all, recalling the past, but he did.

"Yes." He stated dryly and then turned back, walking to car.

"You will be too if you continue disobeying my father and I. He did that to my mother so do you really think he'll struggle giving you the same fate ?" He challenged.

He wouldn't struggle. I concluded.

"Why didn't he order you to kill that guy ?" I asked loudly as we both got in his car, making sure he could hear me over the sound of the doors shutting.

"A thirst for revenge that he wanted to fulfil himself, maybe ?" He shrugged and turned on the engine.

Everything I had learnt today didn't change much for me. My father was still a criminal in my mind like he was beforehand. I still had to keep my life quiet. I was still stuck in that black, sticky treacle. But one thing that did change was my compassion for Dean. He had become soo desensitised to death and violence that the way he spoke about it felt normal to me too.