Falling In Love with The Devil's Son

A PLACE TO GO

ELENA

I had barely gotten any farther away from Luke, not even close to the door, when he suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind, whirling me around to face him.

I glared up at him, forcing myself to not wince from the pain of being held so tightly. Roughly. Viciously.

“What?” I snapped when he wouldn’t say anything, staring down at me with a mix of confusion and rage on his face.

Almost like he couldn’t figure out how I’d gotten so gutsy…

“So,” he started, his tone cold, “you’re gutsy enough to give me warnings now, huh?”

I shoved his wrist off, shrugging. “Well, you could say, ‘more self aware’.”

I scoffed as his pupils dilated in even more surprise, and I flipped my hair backwards. “Stay the f**k away from me, Luke.”

As I turned around again, he followed me still, out of the room and down the stairs, howling threats at me.

“Think you can come into my house and give me warnings?” He yelled, his voice straining with agitation. “I’ll f*****g ruin you, Elena! Don’t you dare me!”

Completely ignoring him, I stormed towards the door that was held open by a grinning Sophia, and I paused at the entrance, turning to glare at her.

“What?” She demanded, c*****g a brow. When I didn’t say a word, she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Cat’s got your tongue now, huh? Well, for your information, dear Elena, you’re not welcome here,” she swept her arm around the house in a wide gesture. “At all. So you better make sure you don’t show your face around here, again, else you’d be asking for trouble.” She snickered, squaring her shoulders. “I know you feel jealous, and you want your spot back already, but—“

I scoffed derisively when it seemed like she was yapping too much in my ears, shaking my head. “All I feel for you, is pity, Sophia.”

Ignoring the look of hurt and confusion that crossed her features, I whirled away from her and walked out the door, without a second glance at Luke, who had stood there with his gaze burning into my face all the while.

Burning with rage, I stormed to a stop just outside their gate, panting heavily.

I’d whipped out my phone to call a ride to Emily’s place, but on second thought, I didn’t think her borderline energy was anything I needed around me now.

Now, I had only one other place I could go to whenever I felt so overwhelmed.

I tapped a few numbers into the phone, and a few minutes later, a cab arrived at the gate.

I slid into the backseat and gave the cab driver the address, resting against the headrest and snapping my eyes shut in exhaustion.

“Can we stop by Molly’s on our way there?” I asked in a clear voice moments later, my eyes fluttering open to see the cab driver peeking at me through the rearview mirror. “I need to pick up some flowers.”

“Sure,” he replied, nodding. “It’s just going to attract a few extra dollars.”

“I’ll pay, let’s just..go.”

The ride was quiet and kind of soothing, as if the driver knew what kind of mood I was in, and put on some soft jazz that seeped into my nerves and lightened my mood a bit.

We stopped by Molly’s about ten minutes later, and I picked up a bouquet of white carnations. He’d always loved them, for some reason.

We were soon en route again, and shortly after, the car pulled to a stop just at the foot of a large grassy area that had a number of gravestones planted a stone-throw away from each other.

I got out and held out a few dollar notes to the cab driver, who thanked me with a nod and sped off a second later.

Inhaling deeply, I slowly turned around to face the yard, knots of longing and remembrance twisting deep in my chest.

I lifted my foot and took an unsteady step forward, my palms gripping the white carnations like they were going to disappear, and soon, I walked into the yard, past several other gravestones, my eyes fixed on just one a little mile ahead.

With each step I took, drawing me closer to him, my breath grew shorter, and the memories came flooding back.

Memories of him. Memories with him.

And with the memories, came a heavy rush of sadness, awakening the grief I’d long tried to bury.

I pulled to a stop in front of his grave, my legs quivering beneath me, my palms sweaty, my vision blurry with hot, stinging tears.

“Braden,” I whispered, the ache in my chest spreading further, to every other part of my body, and soon, I slid to the floor, weak with emotions.

And resting my head against his gravestone, I weeped long and hard, snot and all. Tears of pain and regret. Anger and confusion. Longing… Despair…

Tears I’d somehow managed to keep locked up in a steep well, waiting to combust like a bag of ions.

The white carnations were crushed in my palm all this while, and when I’d eventually cried to my heart’s content, I managed a clumsy attempt to smoothen the creases and laid it on the gravestone.

“Braden, baby,” I started in a voice hoarse with emotions, and lots of rain, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited all these while.”

I sat backwards, pulling my knees up to my chin. “It’s just…been a lot happening with me, since you know,” I shrugged, “since you left.”

Heaving a deep sigh, I reached forward and pulled the box I’d carried from Luke’s house close. Then I reached inside and pulled out a bottle of gin I’d kept hidden away in my room back then, and two glasses.

“It’s just been a lot,” I continued, pouring the gin into the glasses and clinking them together, “and somehow, my visits trailed to a patter, and I stopped showing up entirely.”

I twisted my lips in a small, sad smile, then lifted the glass to them, taking a sip.

“Don’t get me wrong, Braden,” I continued in a soft voice, the voices of guilt inside my head ringing out as his, “I’m not trying to make excuses for not coming to visit you for a long time. I’m just here to say I’m sorry.”

Sighing, I stared down into the glass, past the clear-as-day content, the knot in my chest twisting around harder.

“You know,” I continued, twirling the glass in my fingers, “I’ve been doing lots of thinking lately.”

“About how you’d come into my life like a knight in shining armor,” I chuckled softly, shaking my head, “when it was all bleak and lonely, a typical orphan’s world. And then you’d added so much color, Braden,” I added in a whisper. “So much that I thought that I’d finally stumbled onto some real blessing.”

I chuckled again, the gin suddenly too bitter in my mouth. “But it turns out life had some other plans for me.” My eyes slid down to his name engraved in bold letters, running the tips of my fingers across them in a soft caress. “For us.”

“And I discovered finding you might not be a blessing after all, but a curse,” I added, my voice breaking, and

sniffing, I reached up to wipe at the drop of tear that had slipped down my cheek.

“I miss you, Braden,” I continued in the smallest, withered voice, and just then, in the midst of my sorrow, I heard the faint scrunching of footsteps behind me.

Startled, my heart skipping a few beats, I whirled around to see a man standing there, his tall frame blocking the sunlight, so I couldn’t see his face.

But when he eventually stepped a little to the side, the sun hitting his face slightly, my jaw hung open in a silent gasp.