Faster We Burn

other off the walls, scattering them on the floor like leaves ripped from the branches of a tree.
    I looked at my face in picture form, grinning back at me. I didn’t know that girl. The girl who smiled at Zack like he’d found the world and handed it to her. Fuck. Him.
    I tore down the rest of the pictures until my walls were mostly bare.
    My phone rang, interrupting my redecorating.
    “Hey, so Trish can’t get a hold of him either. He’s gone off the grid,” Lottie said, a little out of breath.
    “Shit,” I said, letting my back slide down my bare wall until I was sitting on the floor. “He’s probably on his way back to his place. I should go apologize.”
    Someone knocked on my door.
    “Yeah?” I said, putting my hand over the phone. Kayla poked her head in the door, only glancing at the pictures that littered the floor.
    “Brought you some tea.” She held a mug out and I took it, setting it next to me.
    “Thanks.”
    “You should come talk to Mom. She’s really upset.”
    Yeah, I bet she was.
    “I’ll be there in a second.” Kayla nodded and waited in the doorway.
    Lottie had been waiting patiently, but I could hear her talking to Trish as well. I banged the back of my head against the wall.
    “I don’t know what to do, Lot.”
    “Just fix things with your mom and deal with him tomorrow. He just needs some time to cool off. Okay, Trish, you can talk to her. Here’s Trish.”
    The phone was passed as Kayla gave me a look that said she was waiting for me to come with her.
    “Look, he does this. He runs and then he feels bad about it and comes back the next day. Trust me, he’ll be back. This is his thing. The best way to deal with it is to let him have his time. You don’t want to chase after him, because he’ll just run away again. But he always comes back if you let him. Like a boomerang.”
    “If you say so,” I said.
    “I do say so.”
    “Trish, I’m sorry.”
    She scoffed. “Why are you apologizing to me? Save it for him. Not that he’ll let you. He hates apologies.”
    “Great.”
    “I’m telling you, this is not a big deal. He’s done worse. Many times. Be glad he’s not still going through his binge drinking phase. That was a great time.”
    “You don’t think he would do anything stupid?” I said softly.
    “Over this? No way. This is nothing. Relax, girl. He just needs a breather.”
    “Okay.”
    “Okie dokie, here’s Lottie. Don’t worry, bye.”
    Lottie came back on and I told her that I had to deal with my mom so she agreed to give me updates if Stryker contacted Trish back.
    I grabbed my tea and walked into the kitchen where Mom was sitting at the dining table, her eyes blotched from crying.
    “I’m sorry, Katie.”
    That made two of us.

 
     
    Chapter Eleven
     
     
    Stryker
     
    I got back to my apartment and it was just as I’d left it. Cold and quiet. I turned on some music, but it turned out to be the playlist I’d come to think of as “Katie songs” so I switched it out for something harsher.
    I tore through my cupboards and found the bottle of whiskey Allan had stashed for his own personal use. There was still plenty left so I grabbed a shot glass and downed one. It wasn’t the cheap stuff, either. Allan was a total alcohol snob, especially when it came to whiskey.
    I paced the apartment, searching for something to get me out of my own head. I picked up each and every one of my instruments, but I couldn’t play them. I downed another shot.
    It was way too cold and dark to work on my car. I poured another shot, but didn’t drink it. I put my chin on the counter and squinted at the clear brown liquid. It used to solve all my problems. At least until I woke up with a raging hangover and realized my problems were still right where I left them when I started drinking.
    Back and forth I pushed the shot glass across the counter. Pulling out the pearl earring from my pocket, I set it next to the glass.
    I should call her and tell her I had it. I should call her and apologize for bailing and for saying “fuck” in her parents’ house.
    Cage the Elephant’s “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” came on and I tapped my hand on the counter with the beat of the song.
    Before I could second guess myself, I took out my phone and downed the third shot.
    “Hey, you,” she said, the sweetness dripping from her voice. “What are you up to?” I heard voices in the background and soft music, so she was probably out somewhere. Big surprise.
    I tossed