here is another part, and thanks to the people who reviewed:) i would like to see more of that
Greg puts a box on a stack of other boxes and turns to his mother, "Thanks so much," he pulls her into a one arm hug. They had just brought up the last of the boxes from the moving van to his new apartment. His mom had found it in the paper, he took the chance and had his moving truck from Vegas delivered there.
"Its no problem," she sighs. "You haven't looked right this week, dear" she reaches up and touches his cheek, "Ever since you came back from that movie with John you have looked tired, have you been sleeping?"
"Yes Mother," he says, slightly annoyed.
She smirks, "I'm just concerned, that's all," she says. "well anyway, I have to go, your father wants to get home," she kisses his cheek and turns to leave, "oh yes, and John was looking for you when we left the house this morning, he wanted you to call him," she reaches into her purse and take out a piece of paper.
"thanks mom," he says. She nods, softly closing the door behind her.
Greg sighs heavily and lets the paper fall to the hardwood floor. He shakes his head and turns to the apartment. There is an open living area, now stuffed with boxes, but has hardwood floors. To the right of Greg is a small kitchen with a refrigerator, stove and an island with a sink. Across the room next to a large window is a set of doors, one leading to a bedroom and the other to a bathroom.
He walk around boxes to reach the window in enough time to see his parents car turn out of the parking lot. The apartment is on the third floor, out of four. He closes his eyes and lets out a low whistle. The last week had been, hectic with work and coming to see the apartment he felt that he didn't have anytime to do anything.
And on top of that he couldn't sleep. The previous night he got a couple of hours and spent the rest of the time tossing and turning with image in his mind. Images that he wished he would never have to see again. Faces and feeling reemerged
As for John, he was just avoiding him. He was under the impression that he was doing the same. When he went to work in the morning there was no sign of Johns black Volvo in his parents driveway. He didn't visit him at work either.
Work was just as bad, because he had been so tired. He found himself just sitting at the front counter waiting. Waiting to go home and worry. Catherine called him a couple of times during the week. Though there was no new information that where has was, and none that he had been killed. Catherine kept her hopes up.
It pained him to think that Nick might be out there, and he didn't even know what to say if he did come back. As far as he knew, Nick thought he was some fag. Greg opens his eyes.
He lunges to the paper and picks it up. Shakily he dials the number, "John?, I need to talk to you," he whispers. Sadness and fatigue run through his voice.
And like a light breaking through the dark, "Ill be there,"
"They are looking for you Nick," the man says. Nick sits on a metal chair, his arms and legs unable to move. He just stares as the man paces back and forth. "I have decided, in this case to reveal your capture just for the fun of it, to let every cop out there know that life is not easy for them, they have me to contend with."
He stops in the dark room, a flickering light above his head. "That is quite annoying, it must drive you crazy as you sit here all day,"
"Shut-up!," Nick spits, " what do you even want?" he asks desperately.
"you ask everyday, and that answer is always the same, peace Mr. Stokes," he laughs, and slams the heavy door behind him.
Nick hangs his head, sobbing silently, as he mutters the same thing over and over again, "Its all for him,"
Review, if you would that would be great:P