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Chapter 5

Camila

Ithink I’m going absolutely insane tonight, because I have a feeling someone is following me.

Scratch that.

I know someone is following me.

I pick up my pace towards my black Renault, my heels making the loudest clicking noises in the world. And not only that, the lights are bright as hell.

Who thought it would be a good idea to make the lights so bright? Did they not anticipate a woman being followed in the middle of the bloody night?

My skin becomes raw with nerves, my muscles tense hard, and my knees feel like they can hardly bend.

I don’t look behind me. I don’t look anywhere but straight ahead. One distraction could be a disaster.

My car comes into view, and I hasten towards it, bringing my heels off the ground onto the pads of my feet. I vigorously press the unlock button on the key fob, yanking the door handle open and practically throwing myself into the driver’s seat. Locking the door behind me, I exhale rapid breaths, finally allowing myself to look around the car park. Through my mirrors, windows, in the back seat.

Nothing.

I twist forward, letting my eyes close. I blow out a calming breath, waiting a few seconds before inhaling again and soaking in the cherry scent of the car.

I really need to get myself to some self-defence classes. It’s great having some muscle on me, but if I don’t know how to get away from my attacker, I’m screwed. Even though I worked out with the small weights in my room, Luke always overpowered me.

A clatter echoes throughout the concrete room, making my eyes ping open and my heart kickstart a pounding beat. A giggle follows the noise, and I check my side mirror, seeing a couple stumbling together.

The girl laughs as the man holds her up, shushing her. She slaps a hand over her mouth, mimicking his gesture. Something pulls at my gut as I watch them laugh and disappear into the night through the exit. They looked happy.

Something that I’ve never had. I don’t know what it’s like to fully trust someone. To give someone my all and know that at the end of the day, they’ll keep that safe. All I’ve ever known is pain, and it’s probably all I’ll ever know.

I undo the buckle of my heel and peel it off my foot, letting out the biggest sigh of relief as I wiggle my toes. Unzipping my gym bag, I pull out my white trainers and slide them onto my feet, pushing my heel into the floor to get them all the way on in the cramped space of my car. Driving in heels isn’t impossible, but driving in stripper heels? No chance.

My head becomes light all of a sudden at the thought that someone might have actually been following me. They could be waiting until I’m fully distracted.

I fumble the key into the ignition, and the car rumbles to life.

Without bothering to tie my shoelaces, I pull out of the car park into the yellow glow of the streetlights.

As soon as I reach the motorway, I repeatedly check my rearview mirror. It’s empty, as it usually is at one in the morning. Not a single headlight in sight.

So why do I still feel like I’m being watched?

I push my head into the headrest, mentally cursing myself for allowing Luke to still have a hold on me.

I need some sleep.

I’ve been working my ass off every night. I worked five nights a week when I first started. A year later, after receiving the first threat from Luke, I started working every night, trying to save money quicker so I had enough to buy myself an apartment where there’s plenty of space for me and Obsidian. Maybe abroad. Far, far away from Luke. And then also be left with enough money to build my studio.

Suddenly, a loud roar of an engine crackles in the night, making me jerk alert. A blur of a grey car passes me, disappearing further down the motorway. Let’s hope they don’t crash.

I find a parking space right outside the entrance of my block of apartments.

Perfect.

The block is in a secluded area, with gates to enter into the car park. I grab my things and follow the paved pathway to the glass entrance. I whip my head behind me, squinting through the glare of the awning light, checking to see if there really is someone following me. Once I’m certain there isn’t, I key in the code on the silver keypad, buzzing the door open. I pull the long, rounded handle of the door and swiftly slide myself inside, without opening the door too far.

I stay watching the eerie darkness of the gated area through my own reflection from the corridor lights. There’s no one out there, but the feeling of being watched intensifies. So much so that it feels like someone is blowing cold air onto my back.