Chapter 8: Only One Thing On Her Mind
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. Sigh. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is my favorite author, the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write here on this site.
A/N: If you like it, love it, or even if you hate it, you know what to do. Tell me in a review. I would love it if you favored, followed, and/or if you gave me (a) suggestion(s). Thank you. :)
Third Person POV (Present)
"Steve," Soda demanded. Steve was too drunk to stand and collapsed onto his friend's front lawn. He mumbled something incoherent that Soda tried to make out but couldn't.
Soda hauled Steve to his feet and practically carried him into the house. Steve collapsed into bed, passing out cold.
X
"She left me, man. Just up and left me," Steve sobbed the next morning. Soda just held him, like Steve had for him when Sandy had left. He'd been there for his friend.
"It'll be okay, Steve-o," Soda said softly, but loud enough to still be heard over Steve's cries.
"I gotta find out why. I gotta find her," Steve said. His voice was hard and filled with determination, unlike the anguish Soda had been hearing in his friend's face.
X (back to past)
Evie opened up the screen door after confirming that her step dad's blue Ford wasn't in their driveway. Steve waited for her in his maroon Chevy.
"Eliza?" she called loudly, but received no answer. She began to panic, where the heck was Eliza?
Evie opened up her sister's door, which was usually never shut, and saw a gut retching sight.
There on the floor laid Eliza, her stomach bloody and her lips blue. Her body was stiff, pale, and cold. Evie let out a combination between a wail and a sob-choked moan, resulting in a loud screeching sound. Steve heard her and ran into the house, only to find Evie cradling Eliza's head, mumbling, 'No, no, no, no, no, no,' repeatedly. Steve cursed and resisted the urge to vomit.
Nobody had to guess who had stabbed Eliza.
X
There was no ambulance, there was no hospital, and there was no saving Dawna Elizabeth. More than likely she had been dead since the night Evie was kicked out.
Evie barely made it to the bathroom before she hurled. Steve rubbed her back as she cried. He helped her up and handed her a glass of water once she finished brushing her teeth. Evie shook her head, handing the water back to Steve.
"Gimme somethin' stronger," she purred and went in search for something to drown her feelings. Evie found her dad's Jack Daniel's and poured herself and Steve a glass. Steve wanted to say something after she downed about five shots, but who was he to deny her sometime to drink after all that had happened?
"Make me forget, Steve Randle," Evie purred seductively; her green eyes were lust-filled, but he couldn't say that he wasn't turned on too.
There was only one thing on her mind. She took Steve's shirt off button-by-button while Steve kissed her neck.
"Evie, your drunk," Steve tried to object, but she began taking off her clothes.
"Drunk off of you, Stevie," she responded.
It wasn't long before Steve had succumb to Evie's lustrous ways and the two were spending their night in each other's arms making love.
A/N: I'm sorry about the short chapter. Suggestions? Pretty please? I love hearing from you guys, you inspire me! I honesty could not have written my stories without ya'll's help.
On a related note, do ya'll like my Third Person POV better or should I go back to First Person POV?
Aufenthalt Gold,
~Alee