Passion Marks by Lee Hayes

Author:Lee Hayes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2003-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

I don’t know what made this Saturday different than any other day. When I woke up, I arose with an overwhelming feeling of being tired. Tired of the same old shit. Tired of James. Tired of running. Sick of this house. Sick of the lies. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

During the course of the day, I continued my usual activities, but I knew something was coming. Something about this day was remarkable. In my heart of hearts, I knew this was the day. As soon as my eyes opened and were greeted by the light of day, it was clear. It was clear in my dreams the previous night. It was my first waking thought. Earlier that morning, I sat up in bed and looked around the room and examined the space carefully. I scrutinized everything from the furniture to each small buckle in the wallpaper. The carpet, the dresser, the closet door, the paintings on the wall, the fireplace, the candlesticks—everything cried out to me that now was the right time. Right then. That day.

Later, after I planned it all, I called Danea, but her machine picked up, and I didn’t leave a message. I called her cell phone, but got her voice mail. Then, I called Daryl.

“Hey, Kevin. What’s going on?”

“I need you to come with me. I’m going to the cemetery to visit Keevan and I don’t want to go alone. Will you go with me?” I didn’t have time to beat around the bush.

There was a slight pause. “Of course I will. When do you want to go?”

“Right now. I’ve put it off far too long. I have to go now.”

“How do you want to do this? Where should we meet?”

“I’ll just meet you at your house and then we can ride together.” It meant a lot to me that he would be there for me on this day of reckoning. “And Daryl, thank you for always being there.” I hung up the phone and walked over to the mirror. I looked closely at myself and tried to remember what I used to look like before all of the pain and stress. I could see faint scars on my face from cuts and bruises I had received; permanent reminders of this life.

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