…And then I touched his scars.
It was like being sucked into dark nothingness. Then I landed, right outside of the farm house. Patch's jeep was still in the gravel driveway. When was this? It couldn't have been long ago, I had known him only about 4 months… I spun around, searching for signs to tell what day or month it was.
When I looked towards the door, I saw Patch there. He was on the phone, speaking in a hushed tone. He wore ripped jeans and a black v-neck sweatshirt pushed up to his elbows. Judging by his outfit, I could tell it was just after our "date" last Friday night/early Saturday morning. Why was I here?
I snuck around a crop of bushes. I know that normal people can't see me whenever I'm in Patch's past, but I've never been anywhere where Patch was. I didn't want to take any chances of him seeing me. But I had to hear his conversation. Something was wrong. From this spot, I could hear him.
"Nora has no clue."
No clue about what?
"Yes, the plan is still on, I'm just worried that she will catch on… she did the first time." He paused, listening to person on the other side of the line. "Her mother isn't home next weekend end, that's when I'll break it to her."
What was he talking about?
"Her father knew, that's why he's not here anymore."
My father. My father. My father. Patch knew things about my father.
"If she's not careful, the same thing will happen to Nora."
And the same thing would happen to me.
He moved to the driver's door of his jeep. I darted across the lawn, just behind the porch so I could see him. When I was actually on the porch, I realized I couldn't. Poop. I turned around to see if there was somewhere else I could go to listen to him…
…And ran smack into his chest.
He glared down at me. I could tell he wasn't pleased I touched his scars.
"Nora," his voice sounded like he was trying to hide his rage. It wasn't working. "Move your hands. Now. You weren't meant to see this." His eyes looked enraged. Different from anyway he's ever looked at me before. So different that I moved my hand away without being forced.
When I came back to reality, Patch's eyes were closed. His breathing was even, but with obvious effort. His back was arched in a painful way, his hair becoming sweaty. When he opened his eyes, they were cold.
I was chilled to the bone.
"You weren't supposed to see anything. You weren't supposed to know, it's too early."
I just stared. "I want to know what you were talking about. And I want to know now, Patch."
He didn't move, just kept his glare trained on me. If looks could kill, I thought.
"Just tell me."
"It's not that simple," he mutters.
"Tell me!"
"Nora," his voice stern, "There's things you still don't know about me…"
"Like what, Patch?" My voice was grim.
He looked at the ground, then stared straight into my eyes. "I know about your dad's murder… I know who killed him."