This is a super rough draft version of this scene. I really don't suck this much at writing, I promise. At least I hope I don't because that would be depressing.
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Kyla stumbled up to the entrance of the Blake Estate in the rain. She was robotic in her movements and numb as hell, and she couldn’t force away the feeling of the knife in her chest. She knew that she’d had to do what she had just done, that Donovan had left her no choice, but even still she felt like she was dying inside.
Rapping on the massive double doors with their oversized brass knocker, Kyla’s face was drained of all emotion. She couldn’t remember another time she’d felt like this, not that she felt much of anything right now.
The doors flew open before the third knock. Nathaniel had been waiting for her. He was anxious to see her, and alarmed when he saw her eyes. The fact that she was standing there soaking wet and making no attempts to get out of the rain tipped him off instantly that something was wrong. He had to see the despair in her eyes because he pulled her inside quickly and asked her, “Are you okay?”
Kyla wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. Even if she was, she wouldn’t know how to tell him what had just happened without giving away the fact that she’d just made a deal with the devil.
Luckily, Nathaniel didn’t press her when she didn’t respond. He brought her into the living room instead and sat down with her on his uncle’s oversized leather couch, pulling her into his impossibly strong arms and rubbing her own with his hands in an effort to get them dry.
Kyla had a passing thought that she shouldn’t be sitting on a ten thousand dollar leather couch when she was soaking wet, but she couldn’t will herself to move or care.
“What happened?” Nathaniel asked her.
Kyla shuddered at the memory of her encounter in the cemetery, of where she had just come from. “I’m sorry,” she apologized in a hollow voice. I was busy ripping out Caden’s heart.
She didn’t articulate that last thought to him. True or not, that would have been saying too much.
Nathaniel looked concerned. “Are you okay?” he tried asking her again. It was a question posed out of politeness since he obviously knew she wasn’t.
Kyla felt sick. “No, not really.”
Nathaniel’s eyes softened in the way they did when he wanted to help her, but when he knew full well that she wasn’t going to let him. At least not in the way he wanted to.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her gently over onto him and leaning back on the couch so she could rest her head on his chest. He took her hand in his and she pressed her fingers slightly against his own; the strongest sign of responsiveness she was able to give him.
With her ear to Nathaniel’s chest, Kyla closed her eyes at the sound of his heartbeat, letting its peace wash over her and draw her back to the place of safety. Its rhythm calmed her, reassured her somehow like it had always been able to; and as she let it overtake her, her memory of the cemetery began to fade to the back of her mind.
“Nathaniel?” she asked him in a small voice.
“Yeah?” he whispered.
Kyla hesitated on the question that pulled at her mind; then she managed to find the strength to voice it. “Is everything going to be okay?” she asked him.
Holding her tighter, he kissed the top of her head. “I’m right here, Kyla,” he promised her. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here and I have you.”
She paused for a moment before she told him, “That isn’t what I asked.”
Nathaniel fell quiet.
It disturbed her…worried her, but when Kyla sat up to look at his face, she was interrupted from the question she was going to ask.
Her phone rang from where she’d set it on the coffee table and she flinched at the sound. Hesitantly, she looked at it, and her chest tightened when she saw the name “Howell” on the caller ID. Nathaniel saw it too and he watched her reaction. That had to be enough to tell him what she was so upset over tonight.
Kyla answered the phone carefully, not even sure what to expect. But there was nothing that could have prepared her for what she actually heard.
Everything got slower then. Time and space and thought and feeling. It didn’t quite freeze, but it came dangerously close. And when Nathaniel saw the blood rush out of her face, he immediately knew something was wrong.
“What is it?” he asked her, sitting up and grabbing her hand.
It was the first time he had ever touched her that Kyla didn’t feel it. She tried to speak, but her voice got stuck in her throat, and when she was finally able to respond to the person on the other end of the phone, her words came out in a confused, indistinguishable mumble. She wasn’t sure what she had even tried to say, much less what she actually did.
Kyla shut her phone slowly and stared forward with vacant eyes, watching as everything around her went white.
“What is it?” Nathaniel asked her again. He sounded more worried now and he squeezed her hand tighter to knock her from her daze. She still felt nothing.
Finally, Kyla found her voice. “There’s been an accident,” she said
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kyla stumbled up to the entrance of the Blake Estate in the rain. She was robotic in her movements and numb as hell, and she couldn’t force away the feeling of the knife in her chest. She knew that she’d had to do what she had just done, that Donovan had left her no choice, but even still she felt like she was dying inside.
Rapping on the massive double doors with their oversized brass knocker, Kyla’s face was drained of all emotion. She couldn’t remember another time she’d felt like this, not that she felt much of anything right now.
The doors flew open before the third knock. Nathaniel had been waiting for her. He was anxious to see her, and alarmed when he saw her eyes. The fact that she was standing there soaking wet and making no attempts to get out of the rain tipped him off instantly that something was wrong. He had to see the despair in her eyes because he pulled her inside quickly and asked her, “Are you okay?”
Kyla wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. Even if she was, she wouldn’t know how to tell him what had just happened without giving away the fact that she’d just made a deal with the devil.
Luckily, Nathaniel didn’t press her when she didn’t respond. He brought her into the living room instead and sat down with her on his uncle’s oversized leather couch, pulling her into his impossibly strong arms and rubbing her own with his hands in an effort to get them dry.
Kyla had a passing thought that she shouldn’t be sitting on a ten thousand dollar leather couch when she was soaking wet, but she couldn’t will herself to move or care.
“What happened?” Nathaniel asked her.
Kyla shuddered at the memory of her encounter in the cemetery, of where she had just come from. “I’m sorry,” she apologized in a hollow voice. I was busy ripping out Caden’s heart.
She didn’t articulate that last thought to him. True or not, that would have been saying too much.
Nathaniel looked concerned. “Are you okay?” he tried asking her again. It was a question posed out of politeness since he obviously knew she wasn’t.
Kyla felt sick. “No, not really.”
Nathaniel’s eyes softened in the way they did when he wanted to help her, but when he knew full well that she wasn’t going to let him. At least not in the way he wanted to.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her gently over onto him and leaning back on the couch so she could rest her head on his chest. He took her hand in his and she pressed her fingers slightly against his own; the strongest sign of responsiveness she was able to give him.
With her ear to Nathaniel’s chest, Kyla closed her eyes at the sound of his heartbeat, letting its peace wash over her and draw her back to the place of safety. Its rhythm calmed her, reassured her somehow like it had always been able to; and as she let it overtake her, her memory of the cemetery began to fade to the back of her mind.
“Nathaniel?” she asked him in a small voice.
“Yeah?” he whispered.
Kyla hesitated on the question that pulled at her mind; then she managed to find the strength to voice it. “Is everything going to be okay?” she asked him.
Holding her tighter, he kissed the top of her head. “I’m right here, Kyla,” he promised her. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here and I have you.”
She paused for a moment before she told him, “That isn’t what I asked.”
Nathaniel fell quiet.
It disturbed her…worried her, but when Kyla sat up to look at his face, she was interrupted from the question she was going to ask.
Her phone rang from where she’d set it on the coffee table and she flinched at the sound. Hesitantly, she looked at it, and her chest tightened when she saw the name “Howell” on the caller ID. Nathaniel saw it too and he watched her reaction. That had to be enough to tell him what she was so upset over tonight.
Kyla answered the phone carefully, not even sure what to expect. But there was nothing that could have prepared her for what she actually heard.
Everything got slower then. Time and space and thought and feeling. It didn’t quite freeze, but it came dangerously close. And when Nathaniel saw the blood rush out of her face, he immediately knew something was wrong.
“What is it?” he asked her, sitting up and grabbing her hand.
It was the first time he had ever touched her that Kyla didn’t feel it. She tried to speak, but her voice got stuck in her throat, and when she was finally able to respond to the person on the other end of the phone, her words came out in a confused, indistinguishable mumble. She wasn’t sure what she had even tried to say, much less what she actually did.
Kyla shut her phone slowly and stared forward with vacant eyes, watching as everything around her went white.
“What is it?” Nathaniel asked her again. He sounded more worried now and he squeezed her hand tighter to knock her from her daze. She still felt nothing.
Finally, Kyla found her voice. “There’s been an accident,” she said
