Chapter Four: No Turning Back
903 Words
Celeste barely slept.
I didn't need to check. I could hear it.
The erratic movements in the darkness, the barely audible creaking of the couch when she moved too quickly, and the uneven breaths that never quite fit into the deep sleep rhythm. Like a rabbit in wolf territory, she was constantly on the edge of her seat, caught between exhaustion and instinct.
I'm sure she thought, "Would I just throw her out if she even cared to be around me?".
She didn't get it.
She wasn't going anywhere.
Not now.
The kitchen table was the spot where I sat, with the faint light flickering above me every few seconds, casting long shadows over the damaged wooden floor. The air was thick with the stench of gun oil and the faint taste of whiskey from a bottle I had never opened.
A cigarette was placed between my fingers.' Unlit.
After years of not smoking, the habit of holding it resulted in a feeling inside me. The weight of it, the shape between my knuckles, and its presence helped me keep my hands busy and avoid my mind wandering to places I didn't want to go.
My gun was within reach as it sat across the road.
Loaded. Safety off.
Just in case.
Outside, the city never slept.
In the middle of the high-rises, a siren erupted and sounded loudly until it was too late. Somewhere on the block, a car horn rattled and then an angry call from another driver who should have known better not to speak so late. What happened next?
I couldn't help but notice the hum of traffic, drunken people leaving bars, and the static sound from police radios cutting through white noise.
A person was bleeding in an alley somewhere.
Similar to the individual left behind by Celeste..
My jaw clenched, teeth grinding.
I regret keeping her here.
I knew that.
If she had mentioned him, it would have been a wise and secure choice to walk away.
Elias.
You didn't solve the problem for him.
He was the type of person you could steer clear of if you wanted to keep going.'
And yet—.
Here I was.
In my chair, I put my arm around my face.. My fingers were pressed against my temple to prevent the headache from curving around inside my skull.
I exhaled slowly.
“You should eat something.”.
Celeste didn't move.
Only a small part of her pale face could be seen wrapped in the blanket as she lay on the couch. For over an hour, she had not been up and running. She wasn't the only one who I allowed to be quiet and unwind, despite my efforts to disentangle her thoughts.
Just shaken, her head.
“I'm fine.”.
She wasn't.
Despite her cheek pressing against the fabric, I could still see the sharp edges of her face, and it was only when her fingers wrapped around the blanket that she barely managed to stay put.
She looked small.
The possibility of me contacting her resulted in her going missing.
But she wasn't crying.
She wasn't breaking.
She was fighting it. With all of her will left to hold herself together.
I respected that.
Still—.
I whispered, "Elias," even with my voice.
Watching.
Waiting.
A single beat.
Her body tensed. It was small, almost invisible, but I got.
Her fingers clenched tighter.
"How long have you been in a relationship with him?".
Silence.
Then—.
“Since the night I left.”.
Despite her lack of vocalization, the impact was felt in our presence.
I grimaced. "And you didn't look back at me?".
With her breath tumbling, she breathed with force.?
Hesitation.
The kind that indicated she wasn't telling me everything..
I didn't push.
Didn't demand.
I waited.
Slowly exhaling, with her eyes fixed on the ground below, she said: "I was under my breath and I changed my name then moved around the city and kept my head down..".
A slight shaking was felt, and it would have been invisible to other people.
But I did.
I noticed everything.
Her voice dropped lower.
“But he always finds me.”.
I felt a chill in my spine.
Not he might find me. Not he's looking.
He always finds me.
That meant he'd eyes everywhere.
Not just power. Not just influence.
Something worse.
Obsession.
With my fingers cold, I swung my gun towards me and felt the metal cool beneath it.
He comes so close, we cut him off.’ The.
Celeste's head snapped up. Shock. Anger. Panic.
Silver eyes flashing.
“You have no idea what he's capable of doing.”.
I chuckled. "I don't have to.".
She opened her mouth wide, prepared to argue, but -
A knock shattered the silence.
Celeste froze.
Her fingers pressed around the blanket.
She stopped breathing.
So did I.
Three slow, deliberate taps.
Not rushed.
Not impatient.
A message.
My pulse was pounding, and my heart beat with a gentle, unwavering thud against my ribcage.
Anyone who stood across that entranceway —.
They weren't just passing through.
They knew.
They were waiting.
My chair barely pressed against the ground as I stood still, slowly. I grasped my gun with both hands, gripped tightly, prepared..
Celeste didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
I made my way towards the door.
It had already begun.
- Writer
