“W-was there always th-three of them?” He side eyes me, and I shrug.
“Maybe,” I answer him, and he smirks as if to say, ‘you freaky bitch,’ making me chuckle. “Anyway, how are Dett and the girls?” I ask, changing the subject, and he sighs, shaking his head.
“It’s crazy right now, Mel,” he groans, running his hand down his face, and I sit up all ears.
“Oh? Did something happen?”
“Hell yeah, something happened. I don’t know if you remember, Nell? She’s quiet an?—”
“I remember her. Did something happen to her?” I wonder, and he shakes his head, leading me to let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Nah, she’s good, but do you remember Kimberly?”
“I do.”
“Well, they got into a bad. Likebadbad.”
“Whaaat? Why?”
“Well, I don’t know. Rumor on the block is that Stone took Nell out on a date, but…” he pauses in thought, rubbing his neck. “I don’t believe it though because Reighn…” he trails off and scratches his head.
“Reighn what?”
“Well, let’s just say I find it hard to believe that Stone would mess around with Nell. I don’t believe it, but Kimber just went clean the hell off on Nell, and let’s just say it’s a mess right now.”
“Damn, I hope things get sorted out soon.”
“Yeah, me too. I think things will settle for Kim and Nell, but if Stoneismessing with Nell… I just don’t know what Reighn will do,” he grumbles, and I want to ask for more tea, but I don’t because I have my own shit to be worried about, and my mind completely slips into shopping and moving mode when we pull up the first store I sent him on my itinerary.
The day is a blur of high-end shopping bags and frantic errands. I buy things I probably won't need in a cabin in the Alps, but the retail therapy keeps the nerves at bay. Every time my phone buzzes, it’s a check-in from SYE.
Enzo : We miss you mama.
Yamir : Mama… come home soon
Slater : We’re dying without you, mama.
I smile at the screen, feeling that tether to them pulling tight against my chest.
By the time we finish at the last shop, the sun has long since dipped below the skyline. The city is bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights, and the last stop is my parents place. When I climb back into the car, surrounded by shopping bags, feeling exhausted but satisfied
“Thanks, Lionel. Let’s head to my parents,” I tell him, but Lionel doesn’t answer. He just pulls out into traffic and I sit back with a sigh, dreading saying goodbye to my mom and dad. I made sure to buy the family a bunch of goodies to placate them. While we were out, I made it so I can direct deposit into their accounts as well as Lionel’s because I feel bad about having to fire him after this. I decided I’ll just have him as a retainer to do things for my mom and dad while I’m away.
I close my eyes for a second, but I open them and see he misses the turn toward the park. I sit up, looking out the window. We’re heading toward the old industrial district, and ain’t shit over here. Lionel knows where my parents stay. He’s taken me there too many times over his time being my driver.
“Lionel? You missed the turn. Don’t tell me you forgot their address?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond. The only thing I see is that his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly that the muscles in his forearms flex. “L-Lionel?” I stammer and lean forward, trying to catch his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Lionel, can you hear me?” I tap his shoulder, trying to get his attention. When he turns to me, I go to let out a breath, but my heart skips a beat when I see his eyes aren’t brown anymore. They’re a dull, milky white, completely blanked out, like he’s looking at something I can’t see. “LIONEL!” I scream. “LIONEL, ARE YOU OKAY?!”
I reach for him, but suddenly, his body jerks and he gasps, his eyes snapping back to their natural color, wide with sheer terror. He slams on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt in the middle of a desolate, moonlit lot.
“MEL!” he chokes out, his voice trembling as he looks at me through the mirror, his face pale and sweaty. “RUN! GET OUT! RUN, MEL!”
“Lio—" The sound that follows is like a bomb going off.
The heavy, reinforced steel of the car door is suddenly torn from its hinges with a screech of twisting metal. I scream, ducking asglass shatters inward. A massive, pale hand reaches in, grabs the edge of the car frame, and with a terrifying heave, flips the entire vehicle.
The world spins. I’m tossed like a ragdoll against the bags and the roof. The car hits the ground with a bone-jarring thud, resting on its side. My head is ringing, the smell of gasoline and burnt rubber filling my lungs.
I scramble toward the missing door, my breath coming in jagged sobs. I pull myself out of the wreckage, crawling onto the cold pavement.
