Her Shadows

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

AMELIA POV

I push through the sweat burning my eyes as I complete a third set of my workout. Restlessly, I push myself up and down, up and down through another round of sit-ups.

Knowing my newly acquired files are safe in my apartment, pushes a singular concern from my worry-addled mind. Now to complete a billion other tasks.

With a grunt I push myself to turn and begin mountain climbers.

Just as I am finishing, my phone alarms with the signature chime of Aaron's text-tone. Rolling my eyes, I retrieve the device and read the demand sent from Eugene through his personal messenger bird to meet in his office in 30 minutes.

With a scoff I wipe my sweating face and head for a shower.

Upon undressing, I spy my body in the foggy mirror. The bruising from my beating had reduced to gruesome yellowing patches that adorn my ribs like splattered paint. Thankfully, movement is almost completely back to normal.

But suddenly, those yellowed bruises turn black and blue and then I'm sprawled on the ground... no not me, a child. But the child is me and I-I...

      Body sprawled on the dirt,

             broken... bruised... beaten.

   No light. Where's the light? Why is it so dark!

          Blood oozing, body aching

     I can feel my ribs crack. Cries of pain echo across walls I cannot see.

                              Dark

                                            So dark.

Gasping, I'm pulled from my memories trip backwards, having to catch my wheezing form from crashing into the shower tile.

I look away from my reflection, scrub my skin raw and wrap a towel around my trembling form, avoiding my own gaze in that mirror.

I enter my closet and close my eyes, taking deep, slow breaths.

In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4

Finally, the shaking ceases and I manage to scramble an outfit together.

I adorn a plain black crop-top, baby-blue cotton shorts and a grey jumper with thumb holes, knowing I'll be returning to sleep after this imprudent meeting, or at least pretending to.

As I grab my ugg boots, I spy a crumpled sweatshirt on the floor, likely having fallen from the back of my closet.

Picking it up, I realise it's Jayce's. Feeling an unfamiliar flutter in my stomach, I lift it toward my face and bury it under my chin, seeking an odd sense of comfort and security in its fabric.

Breathing in its calmness, I once again feel that flutter, stronger this time, as though a horde of butterflies were slamming themselves against my inner chest.

Put off by the feeling I yank it from my face, shake my head as though dislodging the intrusive feelings and drop the sweatshirt like it were made of hot coals. I kick it into the back of my wardrobe once more, grab my bag and pivot, quickly exiting.

~~~

The walls cave in on me, the fluorescent lights seeming to dim as the aura of darkness and violence slivers along my skin like rattle snakes, hissing and spitting, threatening to bite and strangle.

God, I hate it here.

The slithering seems to rattle my bones as I enter Eugene's office. The last time I were here, my blood stained the carpet.

       Body sprawled on the dirt,

                 broken... bruised... beaten.

With disinterest I raise my head and feign boredom just as those rattle snakes tie themselves around my throat.

Eugene is seated, hands clasped in his lap.

"I have organised a business dinner with the Parker's to discuss a few... details of upcoming events. I want both of you to accompany me."

Tighter the snakes squeeze, and yet my voice comes out even, "I can't go with you, it would blow my cover with the boy"

Arms cross, "your cover is well below my list of priorities"

A rebellious smirk graces my lips, "yes, well it's quite high on mine so you'll just have to make do with second-best." As I say those last words I send a disinterested glance Aaron's way. His hands tighten into fists and I swear I see smoke blow from his ears.

Eugene stands up and rounds his desk with a feline grace that rivals my own. His calloused fingers grip my chin harshly, "do not grow disrespectful when your blood has yet to be washed completely from the rug. Now follow orders because you will be at that dinner."

I grind my teeth in barely concealed fury and rip my jaw from his hands, "I'll be there but I shall attend as the Parkers guest. I've made acquaintances with the Parker boy and I will not sabotage those now for a simple meal. You'll just have to make do with having me on the other side of the table."

I watch his jaw click in annoyance, almost undetectable to even the trained eye, but nevertheless he begrudgingly agrees.

Aaron is dismissed, and Eugene returns to his seat. He asks for the files and I pull them from the bag, handing them over. He takes them happily and places them into his own storage. The action filling me with, what can only be described as, glee, as I finally watch the cat fall victim to the mouse.

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Things are beginning to heat up! Get ready!