Chapter 6: The Brick between us

1976 Words
The fresh white petal looked imposing, more terrifying than the scorched one had been. It was a sign that someone had been in my room, that the locks and the height of the penthouse meant nothing to them. I felt a sudden, prickly sensation on the back of my neck. I looked around the room, expecting to see a shadow in the corner or a figure by the curtains, but there was no one. It was ridiculous to feel hunted in a fortress like this, yet the air felt thin. Without Adrian or Ronan there, the silence of the apartment became a threat. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the room, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard. I scrambled down the stairs, my eyes darting toward every dark doorway. I needed to hear a voice. My thumb hovered over Ronan’s contact, but before I could think, my hand dialed Adrian’s number. He picked up on the first ring. "Nirvana." His voice was sharp and alert. "Pl-please come," I choked out. I couldn't say anything more. My voice trembled so violently I had to grip the phone with both hands. I was shivering, a cold, deep-seated chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. "Nirvana, talk to me. What is it?" He sounded breathless, and in the background, I heard the sudden, aggressive roar of his engine. I knew he was reversing, pulling a sharp U-turn in the middle of whatever street he was on. But I couldn't answer him. I stood in the middle of the living room, my eyes frantically scanning the glass walls. There was a sudden, sharp crash. I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat as I nearly dropped the phone. My gaze flew to the window. A heavy ceramic vase had fallen from the side table, shattering into white jagged pieces on the concrete floor. There was no wind. No one was near it. It had just... fallen. I bursted into tears. "Nirvana! What was that?" Adrian’s voice was a growl of pure panic now. I couldn't speak. I just stood there, whimpering, the tears finally breaking and streaming down my face. I kept looking for who or what had pushed it. My mind was spinning with the image of that nine-year-old girl pinned under her mother. The moment I heard the unmistakable rumble of his bike outside the front of the building, I didn't wait. I bolted for the door, threw it open, and ran. I didn't stop until I collided with his chest. He was still wearing his helmet, but he pulled me into his arms instantly. I buried my face in the cold leather of his vest, sobbing into his chest as he held me so tight I could barely breathe. He helped me back into the house, his arm wrapped firmly around my shoulders. He scanned the room, his hand resting on the back of his waistband as he checked the corners. "Did anyone enter? Did you see anyone?" he asked, his voice low. I shook my head, unable to find my voice. I just held onto his waist, my fingers digging into the leather. I didn't care about the rejection from before. I didn't care about the "mistake." I just needed him to be there. He rested his hand on my head, his fingers smoothing through my curled brown hair, pulling me to the present. After a few minutes, the adrenaline began to die down, leaving me feeling hollow and exhausted. I tried to step away, wiping my eyes, but Adrian didn't let me go. He reached out and pulled me back, tucking my back against his chest so I was enveloped in his warmth. "You called me here," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "Where do you think you're going now?" I didn't have an answer. I just leaned into him, letting his strength hold me up. We were still standing like that when the front door swung open and Ronan rushed in, his face tight with alarm. "Nirvana!" Adrian and I untangled quickly, the heat of the moment vanishing instantly. I rushed into my brother’s arms, and he held me, looking over my shoulder at Adrian with a an expression. They didn't speak, but a heavy, silent conversation passed between them. "She can't stay here, Ronan," Adrian said. It wasn't a suggestion; it was a fact. Ronan nodded slowly. "I know." "Will she ride with me?" Adrian offered, his eyes flicking to me for a split second. "I brought my bike," Ronan responded, his voice having a strange, sharp edge to it. He wasn't looking at Adrian anymore. He was looking at the shattered vase on the floor. Adrian didn't argue. He just nodded and followed us out. The ride was a blur. I sat behind Ronan, my mind a complete blank as the city lights streaked past us like distorted ribbons. We traveled for what felt like hours, leaving the glass and steel of Manhattan behind for something quieter. We finally pulled up to a stone brownstone, a manor that wasn't as massive as a mansion, but felt more like a fortress than the penthouse. It was a sturdy, old-world building with ivy creeping up the walls and heavy oak doors. Ronan took me inside and led me to a room on the second floor. It was smaller than my room at the penthouse, decorated in warm woods and cream colour. "You're safe here," Ronan said, kissing my temple. "Rest now, Nir." I didn't care that he was standing right there. As Ronan turned to leave, I reached out and caught Adrian’s hand. He had been standing in the doorway, watching us with that unreadable expression. "Stay with me," I whispered. I saw Ronan give Adrian a stern, warning look, but Adrian ignored it completely. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. As my eyes began to drift shut, the last thing I felt was the rough texture of his palm as he brushed my hair away from my forehead. When I woke up, the spot on the bed was cold. Adrian was gone. I sat up, looking around the unfamiliar room until my eyes found the clock on the bedside table. It was 6:00 AM. Monday. I sprang out of bed, my heart racing for a different reason. I had my first class at 8:00 AM. I wasn't going to let whoever sent that petal win. I wasn't going to stay hidden. I heard a soft knock, and Ronan stepped in, holding a cup of coffee. He looked like he hadn't slept at all. "Don't you think you should rest today, Nir? After last night..." "No!" I said, my voice firm. It was a final decision, and I think he saw it in my eyes. He sighed and stepped out. "I'll be outside when you're ready." I moved quickly. I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, rubbing away the last traces of sleep and tears. I took a quick bathe and I pulled my hair back into a tight, high ponytail, making me feel sharper. I applied a thin layer of eyeliner and a dark tint to my lips, enough to look like I belonged in a city university, but not enough to hide behind. I went to my suitcase and pulled out a black rib-knit midi dress. It was simple, sleeveless, and hugged my curves in a way that made me feel older than I was. I paired it with a light leather jacket and my sneakers. I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the girl staring back. She looked like someone who could handle New York. I smiled. Walking out of the room, I found Ronan waiting by his bike in the driveway. The ride to the city was quiet. Every time we hit a bump, the memory of the vase crashing flashed in my mind, but I forced it down. I focused on the map of Rodrigo University I had pulled up on my phone. As we reached the gates of the campus, Ronan pulled over. "I need to attend to something, Nir. A meeting for the firm. I'll be back to pick you up at noon. Stay on campus, okay?" "I will, Ronan. I'll be fine." He watched me walk toward the main gates, lingering until I was inside the crowds of students. The university was a stunning collection of old red-brick buildings and paved courtyards. A large sign made of wrought iron and stone stood at the entrance, reading "Rodrigo University" in bold, gold lettering. I pulled out my map, feeling a bit lost. I was looking for Hall B. "Looking for the art wing?" I turned to see a guy standing a few feet away. He had a stack of heavy textbooks tucked under one arm and wore thick-rimmed glasses that kept sliding down his nose. He had the quintessential "nerd" look with his over-sized sweater and messy hair, but his smile was kind. "I'm looking for Hall B," I said. "I'm heading to Hall B myself," he said, adjusting his glasses. "I’m Leo. First year?" "Nirvana. And yeah, first day." We walked together across the quad. Leo talked enough for both of us, rambling about the best coffee spots on campus and which professors were the "soul-crushers." I just listened, nodding occasionally, grateful for the normal, mundane conversation. It felt like a shield against the darkness of the night before. "Here we are," Leo said, gesturing to a large brick building with wide double doors. "Most of the humanities lectures are in here. What's your first class?" "History of Aesthetics," I said. "Oh, tough one. The professor is supposedly a legend, but he's a bit of a mystery. See you around, Nirvana." I thanked Leo and stepped inside. The hallway was crowded with students. I found the double doors for the lecture hall and took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of my black dress. I was running just a minute behind, the frantic energy of the morning finally catching up to me. I took a deep breather before I pushed the doors open and I stepped into the room. It was a vast, tiered hall filled with rows of polished wooden desks, and it was already deathly silent. My footsteps echoed on the floorboards as I stopped just a few feet inside the entrance. Standing behind a mahogany lectern, was a man in a sharp, charcoal grey suit. He was mid-sentence, his deep and commanding,l voice familiar. He suddenly paused and I looked up. My breath hitched as my gaze clashed with Adrian’s. For a second, the hundred other students ceased to exist. I stood there, frozen, my mouth slightly open as I tried to reconcile the man who had brushed my hair off my forehead in the quiet of the manor with the imposing figure standing at the podium. I couldn't move; I kept looking at him. But he didn't blink. He didn't offer a single sign of recognition. Instead, his eyes narrowed into slit. "Is there something particularly fascinating about my face, Miss...?" He trailed off, his voice dripping with a sharp, public disdain. "Since you’ve decided to spend your arrival gawking at me while I’m in the middle of a lecture. lf you’re finished disturbing the flow of my class with your daydreaming, have a seat. Some of us are actually here to work." A few students snickered and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. The embarrassment stringed, making my skin crawl. I ducked my head, my legs feeling like lead as I scrambled to find an empty seat. Adrian had just built a new wall between us, and it was colder than any concrete floor in New York.
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