I stared outside of the passenger seat window in complete silence, watching the trees and rocks and open road pass me by. The only thing that illuminated the road in front of us was the single functional headlight on the pick-up truck. Everything was silent, except for the subtle hum of the engine, and the sound of the tires of the truck rolling down the asphalt surface.
I felt something cold brush against my left arm. "Baby?" His voice was like an unheard prayer; so desperate, so painful.
A neglected voice inside my head shouted at me, and begged me to ignore him. Him. A fallen angel; so beautifully cruel. He was an addiction of mine, one of my passions in life. I couldn't ignore him.
"Yeah?" I responded, turning my head to face those electric blue eyes, partially covered by jet black hair. Beautiful. . .
He smiled a horrible smile . . . it was like his teeth had grown two inches out of his mouth, and his lips had curled back like those of a rabid dog. A monster behind the beauty. Cruel . . .
"What do you want, Kodye?" I asked sharply.
"Oh, c'mon, Sam. Tonight won't happen again." His voice sounded so promising, but I could see past it. I knew better than to trust his promises anymore.
"Won't happen again, hm? Isn't that what you said the last time? And the time before that? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you anymore." I gently massaged the bruise on my right arm. It was fresh . . . from tonight at the dock.
His smile faded away. The new expression on his face looked stern, and serious, but his eyes read differently. They seemed sad, and lonely. Thats who he was: sad and lonely, with a mask of beautiful cruelty. He needed the mask, or so he thought, to prevent becoming even more pointless.
"Sam, you know how I get." The coldness in his voice was arctic. He was right. I did know how he 'got.' I knew how hard he could hit. I knew how much it hurt. And I hated how I had forgiven him all those times he did hurt me.
He leaned over to me, and put one arm around me. Our eyes met, and locked in place. A simple kiss, and everything would begin again. He'd be forgiven, and I'd never forgive myself again.
Suddenly, a bright light penetrated through the wind shield. A truck transporting lumber was coming down the one way lane. Kodye slammed on the breaks. It was futile. The last thing I saw that night was the headlights in his electric blue eyes.