Where did she go anyway? (Dylan)
“So yeah,” Joel was saying. “I thought he was going to kill me, to be honest. His eyes were pretty damn cold. But it was all a misunderstanding, and I’m glad they sorted it out. Not just because they’re so happy… but my own safety.”
Joel chuckled, but I didn’t think he was terribly funny. I felt Sherman’s eyes on me, briefly, as he put Joel’s story together with what he knew. That I’d lost it in Afghanistan because of seeing Joel on the Skype feed from Alex’s room. That my overreaction had ended up costing Roberts his life.
Sherman knew it all now, and I didn’t want to look at him, because if I did I might fucking break down.
I’d told him most of the story anyway. We’d emailed back and forth several times while I was in the hospital, and he was still out there in Afghanistan. He’d said several times that none of the guys blamed me for what happened. But I knew that was bullshit. It was my fault. Of course they blamed me, I blamed myself.
Carrie was sitting next to Sherman, close. She leaned forward and said to me, “You know, I don’t have to say this. But I want you to be careful with my sister. She’s… she’s fallen really hard for you.”
“I wouldn’t hurt her for the world,” I said. Speaking of which, where was she? She’d left to go get water like five or ten minutes before, and hadn’t come back. “Where did she go, anyway?”
“She was in the kitchen a few minutes ago,” Sherman said.
Kelly suddenly went stiff, her eyes wide. “I thought I saw Randy Brewer headed that way.”
“Who?” I asked.
“That’s the guy who….” She cut herself off before she finished, I guess not knowing if either I or Carrie knew. But I knew. Randy Brewer was the son of a bitch who’d tried to rape her last spring.
That’s when I heard the cry, clear across the building, barely heard over the music. It her voice, and she was screaming, “Let go of me! Help! Dylan!”
I was on my feet running before the scream finished.