I’m dripping dirty water all over her car seat as she drives us away. She has the heater on full blast, but it’s not helping with the goddamn shivers.
Ghostly images still flash before my eyes. Faces. Filthy hands. Raspy voices. Pain echoes in my bones, in my joints.
I’m fucked up.
Reaching down, I dig my fingers into the sides of the seat. This is real. The car, the engine vibrating through metal and plastic, the slightly musty smell of the mats. The streets rolling by, the flashing lights of other cars, the hum of a song from the speakers.
The girl driving, casting sidelong glances at me from pretty blue eyes.
“Cass,” I say and my voice creaks like a broken board.
She’s really here right?
“Hey.” Her voice is warm and soft, filling up the cracks in me. “Welcome back.”
I try to swallow. My throat is too dry for that. “I thought I called Seth.”
“But called me instead. And I’m glad.”
Me too, I think. Easier to find my way back with her. Maybe. “Thanks for coming.”
“I’ll always come for you.” Solemn. Like a promise. “Bad flashback, huh?”
I nod.
“What triggered it? Do you remember?”
I shake my head, unsure. “The superintended said… He said I pushed someone, dropped a bag. Someone complained.”
“That was the trigger?”
“How the fuck would I know?” I wince. She flinches. “Dammit, Cass. Sorry.”
Fuck, I need my pad and pencils. Need to draw, take the images out of my head. My fingers twitch on my legs, curling in.
“It’s okay. Sorry for being pushy.”
“You’re not.” It’s the truth. I don’t feel trapped. For the first time ever, I think I could talk about this. “What did I do this time? Did I hurt anyone? Did I hurt you?”
“Like I told them, you wouldn’t. I know that.”
But she doesn’t, not really. “Cass… What did I do?”
She hesitates, and I brace for the worst. Did I roll on the ground? Did I scream? Did I beg and cry and fight invisible hands?
“Not much.” She glances at me again, pain in her gaze. “When I arrived, you were just standing there, whispering something over and over again. Then one of the guys grabbed your arm, and you started fighting him. Pushed him off.”
Son of a bitch. It’s not enough that I’m a screw-up, it had to be in front of her and everyone at work. So fucking humiliating.
“You didn’t hurt him,” she goes on. “Didn’t hurt anybody.”
It doesn’t matter. This is it. I’m losing my mind. I growl deep in my throat. “I’m not fit to be around people.”
“Don’t say that. Something happened. Something set you off. We need to find out what it was. So you can avoid it next time.”
“You don’t get it.” I don’t look at her, stare outside instead as I drag the words out. Time to face reality. “I’m probably out of job.”
If Peter was thinking of firing me after the complaint, I can’t imagine what would keep him from doing so now that I had a fucking flashback on the site and fought off one of the guys. Cassie says I didn’t harm him, but what does it mean?