No Going Back

“You killed them.”

He didn’t answer, just pulled his clothes on, and got into the car bringing the smell of violence, blood, and death with him.

He pulled away from the side of the road. Turning the car around, the tires skidded on the muddy earth and the car swerved dangerously. I gripped the armrests not daring to speak. The Mercedes tore down the road in the direction of home.

“If you speed like that the cops are going to pull you over.” How was he going to explain the blood?

The face he turned to me wasn’t his, it was that of a stone-cold killer. He looked away from me quickly. A short while later he pulled off the road, slamming his fists and head against the steering wheel, screaming.

“Nico?” he scared me. I pushed myself against the car door uncertain if I should get out and run. But then I remembered what he told me: “Never run from me, Darina.”

He sat there with his head resting against the steering wheel. I reached out a shaking hand to touch his shoulder. Nico sat back with