Violet gets up and starts cleaning up the dishes and my untouched, cold dinner as she prepares to go out on the road, searching for my baby sister just as I should be doing. “You’re just about due for some more pain killers,” she says. “Shall I get them for you now so you can get off to bed when Tully returns?”
“Sure,” I tell her as the fact that Tully is coming here really hits me. I need to go and see Anton and the sooner the better. With Tully here, I have no chance in hell of sneaking out, but with Violet, it’s as easy as waking up in the morning. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”
“Alright, sweetheart. Take it easy, ok? No fast movements. I don’t want that hip of yours getting any worse.”
“It’ll be alright,” I tell her, getting up off the couch with a pained cringe. “It’s just bruising. It’ll settle in a few days and then I’ll be back to normal.”
Violet smiles as she starts heading for the kitchen. “What I would give to have the body of an eighteen year old again,” she sighs, “but unfortunately things just aren’t the same after pushing twins out, especially when one of those twins came out the size of a toddler.”
I give her a warm smile knowing she’s referring to Noah while wishing I could somehow find the laughter within me, but it’s just not there.
Violet disappears into the kitchen and I make my move. I grab my keys off the entryway table and find a hoodie before slipping out the backdoor, making sure to close the bathroom door so she doesn’t come looking for me too quickly.
The sky is pitch black but the lamppost outside my home is doing a great job of showing the world exactly where I am, so I go as fast as I can. First things first, I hurry into the neighbor’s yard, doing my best not to groan and grunt as my hip screams in protest. I make my way around to the backdoor, hating how fucking creepy this feels, but it’s a necessary evil.
The door opens straight away and I shake my head. What kind of security is that? Everyone in Haven Falls knows that you lock your back door, but I guess when your name is Rocko Stevenson, you assume that you’re better than the rest.
The house is dark and I make my way through it, hoping to whoever above that I’m not about to walk into his parents’ bedroom. I mean, I’m all for scaring the shit out of Rocko, but his parents? Now, that’s just a whole heap of awkward that I could do without.
I make my way down the hall, lighting the space before me with my phone when I come to a door that has a sign reading ‘Stay the fuck out.’ Hmm, I guess finding his door isn’t going to be as hard as I thought.
I take the handle and gently twist, letting the door fall open before me. I flash my light into the room and hold my breath, not wanting to make a single noise. I step over the threshold, and the first thing I notice is ‘Harry Potter’ memorabilia covering every single wall.
What the actual fuck?
Cars, naked girls, guns, maybe a poster of a sporting team. That’s all the shit I was expecting Rocko Stevenson to have on his walls. A life-sized poster of ‘Harry Potter?’ Not so much.
I flash my light up over the walls, needing the full effect when I realize it’s not a life-sized poster at all but a cardboard cut-out. I mean…wow. I’m…I don’t even know what I am. Shocked, frazzled, terrified that he’s going to pull out a wand and throw one of the ‘Unforgivable Curses’ my way.
I grin and shake my head the second I turn and scan over his desk only to find the said wand. This is just getting ridiculous now.
I pick it up and look it over before rolling my eyes and turning to Rocko. He’s sound asleep in bed, snoring with the covers pulled right up to his chin. Easy. This should be like taking candy from a baby.
I pull my hoodie up until the black material is sitting low over my face, covering my features in dark shadows. I creep right up to the side of his bed and look down at the bastard who took me from the races. I guess karma is a dish best served cold.
I launch myself up onto his chest, pinning him down with my knees on either side of his shoulders while making sure to keep the blanket tight beneath me, acting as an extra barrier between me and the slime ball between my legs.
Rocko’s eyes tear open and I take the wand in my hand and press it against his neck. “Don’t move,” I warn as he sucks in a sharp breath, most likely thinking it’s a knife. I mean, I probably couldn’t make magic with this thing, but watching Rocko being rocked by fear is pretty fucking magical to me, even more so seeing the faded cuts and bruises still covering his face that Noah had so kindly supplied him with at prom.