CHAPTER SIX

ELENA

The shrill, persistent blaring of my cell phone alarm abruptly yanked me out of my self-pitying thoughts. Groaning, I swiped my finger across the screen to silence it. Reluctantly, I peeled myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, heading for the hutch caddy-cornered from the sink.

I reached up and moved the resin lighthouse aside. Resting beneath it was the orange bottle I couldn’t bring myself to look at for too long--a symbol of my perceived weakness and dependency. The oblong capsules, a muted shade of green and pale yellow, held the key to balancing my moods and keeping me from spiraling into complete insanity.

Feeling anxious, I counted the remaining pills. Without a doctor here to prescribe me anymore, I had to ration what was left. My usual supplier, who took the risk of losing her license to help me, was now on the other side of the city and I had no means of reaching her. I took the dosage I needed with water from the tap and then placed the lighthouse back in to hide the ugly orange bottle again.

After returning to the bedroom, I discarded the towel that had been wrapped around me for hours and changed into my cozy sweats and an oversized shirt featuring a design from one of Lovecraft's stories. I didn't know what to do next. Despite my determination to push through, I had spent a good portion of the night stifling sobs until I had no energy left and could only hide my ragged breaths. The tears had finally stopped, but the pain still felt as raw as ever, and my swollen face felt like it was filled with helium. I checked the time and saw that it was just past midnight. It would be at least three more hours before I could fall asleep. I had attempted to distract myself by watching TV, but I couldn't focus on any movies or shows .

The darkness wrapped itself around me like a heavy blanket, suffocating and all-encompassing. It was another one of those nights where I clung to my father's advice, desperate for any shred of comfort to ease the turmoil in my mind.

“Never stop fighting the demons in your head,” his words echoed in my ears, a constant reminder of the struggle that consumed me every day. Sometimes, on these lonely nights, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I just let those demons take over. Would it bring me peace or push me deeper into this endless cycle?

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. “Where are you, Eva?” I whispered into the emptiness. I debated whether to call Peyton or Melody, who both understood the moods I could go into. I didn’t want to bother them though, especially at this hour. I returned to the bathroom and quickly ran a brush through my hair, trying to smooth out any tangles .

I splashed some water on my face in hopes of reducing the puffiness around my eyes. It wasn't my best look, but it would have to do. Slipping on my flip-flops, I grabbed my cell phone and air-pods off the nightstand before heading towards the door. I remembered to grab my hoodie from the hook before stepping into the eerily silent hallway. It was as if this place was a tomb instead of a home; even the AC unit seemed too quiet.

Once I made it outside without any run-ins, I took a deep breath and let the soothing sound of crickets chirping surround me. Scrolling through my music playlist, I settled on an Aquilo song that seemed fitting for my current mood. I didn't have a destination in mind; I just needed to escape from my room and clear my head. Walking felt like a better alternative than lying in bed and battling with the negative thoughts plaguing me. At such an hour, there was no activity in the neighborhood—I was grateful for that .

Being able to walk like this was the only positive of this place. Most of the homes weren’t visible from the road, which added an extra layer of privacy for both me and whoever lived in them. Out of habit, I paused my music and checked my surroundings every few minutes. I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, but there was never anyone there. Not for the first time I wondered if I was alive intentionally or by mistake. My gut told me it was the former, but until I knew for sure or the reason why I'd always be looking over my shoulder.

I wasn’t sure how long I walked. At least two more songs finished before I decided to cross to the other side of the road. I began to turn, freezing when I realized there was a car slowly creeping around a partially obscured bend. I silently cursed and paused my music, waiting to see if they’d pass, or if I needed to start running .

As the sleek vehicle approached and came to a stop, I admired its impeccable exterior, immediately falling for it--a vintage Monte Carlo in perfect condition. I was curious why it was here amongst all the Rolls Royce and Bentleys. I strained to see the driver through the dark-tinted windows but could not make out their features. Suddenly, the driver's door opened, and my heart skipped a beat. He stepped out and stared at me from across the roof of the car. His lips curved into a smile, but it lacked any warmth or friendliness.

How was it possible that I ran into him again?

“Late night walk?”

“Something like that,” I replied, not giving away too much information.

He walked around the front of the car and approached the passenger side door. I watched him with cautious eyes. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt that seemed to have been tailored specifically for his perfectly sculpted body, paired with black slacks that fit just as well. It appeared as though he had just come from a business meeting or a night out. It wasn’t as if he had a legitimate nine-to-five that required overtime. On the other hand, I appeared completely out of place in this neighborhood. He swung open the door and immediately fixed his gaze on me, scanning my entire body. The intrusive evaluation felt like a searing iron pressed against my skin.

We stood still, neither of us moving or saying anything. I wasn't naive; I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. However, I refused to comply just because he expected it. I briefly considered walking away, but for my own safety, I stayed put. He looked amused by my silent defiance and slid his hand into the pocket of his slacks in a nonchalant manner.

"Get in the car, Elena," he ordered calmly, his voice carrying an air of authority that brooked no argument .

"Why would I do that?" I quickly scanned the empty street, noting that he had come alone.

"Because if you don't, anjinho, I'll have you brought to me in a far less courteous manner."

A knot formed in my stomach, and I felt a wave of fear wash over me. My rational side screamed for me to resist and not get into the car with him. But deep down, I knew there was no use in defying him. My mind was filled with countless questions as I removed my headphones and walked towards him. With each step, I felt a sense of dread settle over me. I anxiously watched him as he opened the door for me and guided me inside. As he closed the door and returned to the driver's seat, my mind was racing with a mix of emotions - fear, anger, and a dangerous curiosity.

He returned to the driver's seat and leaned over, causing me to jump. He didn't mention my startled response, but he laughed softly as he pulled the seatbelt across my lap .

“You need to stop sneaking out late at night. Consider yourself lucky that we're in my city. Anywhere else, and this conversation would be very different.”

His words sparked a mix of anger and surprise within me as he seemed to know about my nightly habits. “Are you having me followed?”

He gave me a look I couldn't decipher. “Of course. I always have someone keeping an eye on you.”

My stomach twisted into knots at his admission, and the ground beneath my feet felt like it was falling away. He said it so casually, and I knew he was telling the truth. All those times last week when I felt like I was being watched, there must have been someone around me because of him. It wasn't just my imagination running wild. Even tonight, when I thought the streets were empty, there must have been someone hiding somewhere .

But why? Why was he watching me? The only reason I could think of was because of my sister.

“Why do you have eyes on me?”

He made a sharp U-turn in the middle of the street, not answering me. As he drove, I settled back. The scent of his cologne wrapped around me, audacious warm cinnamon and blood mandarin. It was the type of fragrance that lingered in your memory. Something about it was loosely familiar, but I wasn’t in a position to ask him about it.

“Just relax,” he said in a gentle tone.

Impossible. But I did let go of the door handle, which was practically embedded into my palm. Attempting to calm myself with a quiet breath, I glanced over at him. “Where are you taking me?”

“For breakfast. Where else?”

“You...you kidnapped me for breakfast?” I couldn't help but ask, incredulously .

He chuckled lightly. “You got into my car on your own accord. That's hardly kidnapping.”

His amusement only made me more annoyed. “Where are we going?” I repeated.

“I already told you.”

“I'm not really a breakfast person.”

“You should be. It's the most important meal of the day.”

His seriousness almost made me laugh out loud, so I had to bite my cheek to keep from doing so.

“I told you we’d talk soon, yes?”

“Yes,” I replied briskly. He had said that, and I didn’t forget. Forgetting him was a feat I wasn’t sure I could accomplish. I knew the moment he approached me at the venue there was a reason why. I could only hope to have the answer after this was done.