Blue 42 by C.A. Rene

epilogue

Dixon

“Dixon!” His voice reverberates out of my phone's speaker, “everything I did was to protect you!”

“Seb, where are you?” my voice shakes as worry clutches at my chest. “What is that noise?”

I can faintly hear sirens like an ambulance or cop cars.

“I can’t go to jail.” He whispers, his voice drowning out.

“Seb!” I yell, “do I hear cops?”

“I just needed to make sure you were kept out of shit, that you were safe.” His voice cracks and I roll off my couch, grabbing at my crutch. It’s Christmas eve and I was sinking into depression before I heard his voice.

“Seb,” I hobble down the hall and into my TV room, skidding along my Persian rug. “I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

I almost trip over an Italian leather ottoman as I grab the remote from my glass end table. Sebastian’s panting over the speaker phone along with his random cursing has my stress ramped to an extreme high. I turn on the TV and flick to a local Buffalo news station and curse when I hear the breaking news, there’s a high-speed chase on the I-90.

“Fuck Seb!” I scream, “why are you running from the cops?”

“They know, Dixon!” He screams back, “they know what I did!”

“Pull over before you kill yourself!” My breathing is coming out in short gasps and I can feel my skin coating in sweat. This is fear.

“I can’t go to jail.” He sounds eerily calm and I know this is his game only voice. No feeling, just a complete tactical brain.

“No,” I stutter, “no, Sebastian, please pull over.” I reach up and dig my fingers into my hair.

“Take care of yourself, North.”

The line goes dead and I drop my phone, hearing as it clatters against the marble tile. The news is saying a Buffalo footballer is on the run from police and they will update everyone when they learn more. I feel moisture stealing its way down my cheek and I know it’s just a matter of time until they get Sebastian’s name.

How the hell did we get here and where do we go now?