The Runaway groom

Chapter 4

The ride to Pier 91 felt like driving into a nightmare, one I wasn’t sure I would wake up from this time.

Lorenzo drove in silence, he was so focused that the city outside felt two-dimensional, like we were moving through a painting and the world beyond the windshield didn’t matter. He was so tense, I could see it through his eyes. And that terrified me more than anything.

The car finally slowed down, I looked out the window.

“Why do events always happen at the docks at midnight in these stories?” Sienna whispered, to distract herself, and to keep me from saying something I’d regret.

“Because no one goes to the docks in daylight,” I said. My voice felt small in the car.

Lorenzo didn’t answer. His jaw worked. Once, when the car hit a pothole, his hand brushed my knee accidentally or not, I didn’t know, but the heat it left behind was loud in my veins.

“I remembered what he said, before we left the penthouse, to stay in the car.” I wanted to obey. I had wanted to be the fragile, careful woman he kept insisting I be. But I’d spent seven years not being able to breathe around the truth. If Damian was out there, if he was hurt, I wanted to look him in the face. I wasn’t going to stand on the sidelines.

The city fell away as we took the turn toward the water. The pier lit up in the distance; Everywhere smelled of salt, oil, and old rubber. It smelled like places I’d only ever walked past in daylight, now stripped bare and cruel in the night.

We pulled into a small lot above the pier. The closer we got, the more the world hummed.

There it was, Damian’s car. Black, slick, half-hidden under the shadow of a container. The driver’s door was ajar.

My breath left me, as the sight of his car made me remember everything I thought I was trying to forget. My wedding morning at the chapel, the dress, the empty aisle, the whispers.

“Don’t…” Sienna said, like she knew my thoughts already. That single syllable was filled with the kind of fear that made me want to laugh or scream.

Lorenzo parked a little way off and killed the engine. For a second we all sat in the dark, silent. The silence tasted of possibility.

He stepped out first, he moved like a man who owned every inch of the night, or at least, it felt that way to me. Sienna and I followed closely.

We got to the vehicle, the sight made something in my chest go very still. The driver’s side door had a smear. Lorenzo crouched, he kept his broad hand steady against the frame and traced a line with a gloved finger, then looked at me.

“There’s blood,” he said quietly. His voice did not waver, but his face was suddenly hollow.

My stomach turned. I wanted to step closer and vomit or scream or find him, but instead I moved slowly towards the open door. The interior light caught on something on the passenger seat: a silver charm, half-hidden beneath a crumpled napkin. I froze.

It was the tiny compass I’d given him on our third anniversary. A ridiculous, sentimental thing I’d always joked about, telling him it would always point him home. I’d never expected to see it again like this, lying in his car.

My fingers closed on it before I thought. It was warm with a recent touch. I brought it to my nose and caught the ghost of his scent on it. Something that smelled like home and betrayal at once.

“Why would this be here?” I whispered.

Lorenzo’s gloved hand hovered near mine. “Because he was here,” he said, this was the simple truth making the night tilt.

Sienna crouched at the car’s side, and she lifted the napkin carefully. “There’s something else.” She pulled out a watch. Damian’s watch, the one he never took off. The leather strap was torn. A small smear of dark red marred the face.

My throat closed around a sound I couldn’t name. I wanted to collapse, to curl into myself and disappear, but the fierce part of me, the part that had planned weddings and negotiated with impossible clients and built a life from promise pushed forward.

“Check the trunk,” I said before I could stop myself.

Lorenzo’s head snapped up. He hardened his face into something I couldn't read. He hesitated, just long enough.

“Why Damian? He minds his business and avoids trouble.”

Lorenzo replied without hesitating. “Damian had enemies he didn’t tell you about.”

My heart stuttered, “What enemies?”

He looked at me the way someone does when deciding whether to lie or not.

Sienna exhaled sharply, “Okay, can we stop with the cryptic mafia-movie dialogue and be specific? Elena deserves to know what's going on.”

“Elena, he said suddenly, stepping closer, “Before we go further, I need you to promise me something.”

That no matter what we uncover tonight, you will trust me regardless.

Why? I whispered.

“Because things are more complicated than you think. And I can’t protect you if you start doubting me at this time.

I was beginning to get irritated. I stepped closer, “Lorenzo… what aren’t you telling me?”

“Elena..” he said softly, "if I tell you everything, you won’t look at me the same.”

The word hit me so hard. Suddenly, a loud metal clang echoed across the area.

I jolted immediately when I heard the sound.

Lorenzo moved instantly toward me, pulled me behind him “For a terrifying, breathtaking second, his body was the only thing separating me from the unknown.”

Sienna froze, her eyes widened.

There we saw a shadow darting between two containers.

Lorenzo cursed under his breath. “Who the hell are you?”

He started moving slowly, pulling me with him before I could protest. His grip on my wrist was warm, but gentle enough not to hurt. I followed him to the corner of the container, my heart beating so fast.

We heard another sound, this time it was footsteps splashing in shallow water like someone was running.

“Dammit,” Lorenzo growled, he turned to me, gripping both my shoulders. “Elena. Listen. Get back in the car. Now.”

“Stay with Sienna,” he said quietly. “Please.”

The “please” shattered me. I nodded.

He took one last look at me and then took off to find who exactly was behind the shadow.

Sienna grabbed my hand. “Come on. Let's go back in the car.

As we hurried back toward the car, I was so afraid because it felt like someone knew we were coming, someone wanted us to see the blood, the abandoned car.

But beneath the fear, I saw that the more danger we stepped into, the more I found myself drawn to the very man trying to protect me.