Illya
Asoft knock on the front door drew my attention from the television, and I cast a questioning glance at Theo. He simply shrugged, not bothering to pause the show before hoisting himself up from the sofa. My gaze followed him, his taut muscles rippling, his boxers clinging to his ass, and I licked my lips heavily. Taking another bite of my sandwich, even cold, it was the most delicious thing I’d ever put in my mouth.
Well, almost— it was definitely number two on my list of top two.
“I had a feeling you’d be here.” Carlyle sounded so damn smug, and I frowned around my sandwich as he appeared from behind the corner of the short hallway. He downright grinned, that stupid, knowing glint in his eye shimmering brightly, and I nodded politely. “Unfortunately for you, I’m going to be borrowing Theo today. Although you don’t start until Wednesday, he’s already on the clock.”
“We already slept together and had breakfast. It’s time for him to run out, anyway.” What a weird concept—breakfast.Shooting me a mock glare, Theo headed for the back hallway, and I unfolded my legs out from under me with a pointed look. “What do you want, Carlyle.”
“I brought you this.” Setting a DVD on the coffee table, in a clear, generic case, Carlyle rocked back on his heels as suspicion sloshed in my chest. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. How are you liking the place?”
“It’s nicer than my last place.” My nonchalant answer earned me an almost playful glower, and Carlyle stuffed his hands into his pockets to look around. “I don’t get the impression you came here just for him.”
Taking a bite of my sandwich, I bit back a groan at howgoodit tasted. I didn’t know Theo could cook. For a second, I ignored Carlyle’s silence as I thought about that notion. How much did I really know about Theo? How much did I reallywantto know about him?
Both of us had it bad for such polar opposite reasons. Twisting at his slight stomping into the living room, I frowned in dismay at the clothes that shielded Theo’s body. Leaning over the back of the straight, light grey sofa, he buried his nose in my hair, and my eyelids fluttered closed to relish this moment of bliss. It was a fraction of a second long, maybe, before he pulled back, and I settled in as Theo braced his palms on either side of me.
“Enjoy your day. Maybe go through your closet and make sure everything fits, Illya.” My brows rose at that, and Carlyle gestured Theo with him and cast me a stern look. “Just let me know if something doesn’t. I’ll have it tailored.”
“Okay.” Swallowing my bite roughly to reply, I frowned slightly when he turned on his heel, and Theo cast me a ‘what the fuck’ look. I could only shrug confusedly, and he scowled lightly before following Carlyle out. Thehitchof the lock echoed down the hall to me, and I stared at the entryway for a moment before shaking my head viciously.
“Whatever.” Grumbling as I took another bite of my dwindling sandwich, I stuffed the last bit into my mouth and stood up. Snatching the DVD Carlyle had left me, foreboding clawed at my gut, but I popped it into the player anyway before my doubt could stop me. “I hope it’s not torture porn or something.”
The screen turned blue, and I sat back on the coffee table before the colors flickered and turned into a picture. Squinting in concentration, I propped my elbows on my knees as a body paced back and forth. An icon in the corner told me sound had been disabled, but I couldn’t worry about it when surprise shocked through my chest.
Mateo stomped around like a rabid animal, raking his hands through his hair, pure agony twisting his features. His lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying if he was saying anything at all. He lookedbadlike he hadn’t slept in the week since I’d last seen him. Holding my breath, I tensed when the images changed to show a different room.
The camera pointed directly on the bed was in color, unlike Mateo’s, and Sylvie struggled like a wildcat in a trap. She was drenched in sweat, but every time she wiggled, there was a faded brown underneath her. Her hair stuck to her face and crusted every which way, and I covered my mouth as horror bubbled up my throat. Gaunt cheeks hollowed out as she shrieked silently, thrashed violently, and blood splattered from her wrists as cuffs cut into them.
“Oh, my God.” Theo hadn’t been kidding when he saidno onewas taking care of her. Sylvie’s ribs poked out from her chest, and she had a crazy look in her eye when she paused her writhing to breathe. Fisting my palms together, I held my breath when she jumped in shock, and my former best friend burst into tears on the screen. She started shaking her head, screaming, as Mateo advanced on her through the bottom corner of the camera.
The heavy cast iron pan in his hand swung in a blur, and I jumped when it landed flat on Sylvie’s face. Her head popped open, but Mateo lifted the pan again and swung down. I was suddenly so, so,soglad I couldn't hear anything, and her face was unrecognizable when he lifted the pan a final time. But then, Mateo smashed the edge of the pan into Sylvie’s abdomen.
Wincing as he heaved his whole body into the swing, I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. My mind focused on the scene digitized, immortal, in front of me, and Mateo stumbled away from the bed to rasp massive breaths. He dropped the pan beyond the edge of the bed, and I didn’t dare blink even as he covered his face with his hands.
How fucked up do you have to be so torn up about this?What did Mateo think was going to happen when he got a one-night-stand drug addict pregnant? Was he so delusional that he really thought things would go well? I mean, I could’ve felt bad for him if he had some tiny ounce of realistic expectation to his fantasy.
And Sylvie.With the realization that she’d been using for a while and had hidden it, I just . . . I didn’t even know. If she told me that second— seemed remorseful— I would’ve kicked her out, but I would’ve gotten her some help, too. She got pregnant on purpose, probably to extort Mateo, and then freaked out when he wanted to be a family. The using intensified, and I found out, and the rest is history.
That’s what it was, after all— history. Sylvie didn’t exist to me anymore and hadn’t for a while. Because of her, I went through all this shit that I had nothing to do with. Sure, I met Theo, which was nice, and I got a new job with a drug lord that seemed like a good deal, but . . .
I didn’t owe Sylvie any part of me after I kicked her out, and it took me a bit to figure that out, but I did. By myself.
“Why did Carlyle give me this?” The question had no answer, echoing in my quiet apartment, and I popped the DVD out to put it back in its case. “More importantly, why do I feel nothing?”
Again my grumble had no answer, but that might’ve been answer enough as I shoved the disc case behind the bookshelf and resolved to forget about it. People came and went. That was how it worked. The people I seemed to trust always fucked me over somehow and Sylvie just proved to be no different. What could I do about it?
Nothing.
