Serendipity

Chapter 16

Elodie

Looking around my trashed childhood home, it takes my all not to burst out sobbing. I don't even know why. I mean, it's just a place filled with objects. The thing that really made this a home died months ago. Maybe this is just an unwelcome reminder.

I just can't bring myself to walk further down the hall and into my father's study where the phone I'm here for is. It's like my heavy heart is pinning me to the ground, disabling me to see more because it knows I can't handle it.

I need to pull myself together. If I allow myself a minute to think about what the hell went down and what I've lost, I'll spiral. I can't do that. I need to stay focused, eyes on the prize like my father always used to say. If you're always busy doing what's next to do, the past won't manage to creep up on you.

Taking a painfully deep breath down my dry throat, I steel my spine and march on. Not stopping to acknowledge the broken family pictures beneath my feet or bothering to check if the tiny pieces of ceramic belong to the vase I once made my dad for father's day. I don't care. What's done is done, I'm here to do a job.

I unlock the tiny flap in the back corner on the bottom side of my father's desk with the pendant of my necklace and pull the old phone out, painfully aware of Raffaele's gaze on me. Still, I don't say anything and neither does he. Deadly silent and calm, I walk past him and head for the exit.

I need to get out of here. I'm holding myself together by sheer willpower and that shit is exhausting. I can already feel the walls closing in, taunting me as the air grows thin.

I speed up but one step away from the door I change my mind and turn on my heels, nearly slamming into the man behind me as I do. I ignore him, not sparing a glance as I reach for the cabinet right next to his hip and pull out a small grace from heaven. Then I leave the house.

"Where are you going?" Raffaele asks when I walk down the road and past his bike. It's the first he's said since we arrived and I'd be lying if I said ignoring his question doesn't fill me with a petty sense of accomplishment. I keep up my stride, fiddling with my pack of cigarettes and trying to pull out the lighter I hid inside.

"Elodie, get on my bike," he repeats more forcefully, his voice further away now. I smile to myself, then nearly groan as I take the first drag. Fuck, I've missed this.

And then there's a firm hand wrapped around my upper arm, yanking me around so I'm face to face with the man I really don't care to see right now.

"Get on my bike," he repeats, leaning down so I pick up on his lowered words. Then he has the audacity to bring his free hand up to my lips, taking the cigarette from my mouth and letting it fall to the ground before stepping it out. I grit my teeth. Did he really just-

"Let go of me," I hiss. "Here's the stupid phone, you have what you came for. I'll find my own way back." I shove the old thing into his hands.

"I'll take you home. Don't be difficult," he insists but his words trigger a whole new flood of emotions. Home? His men destroyed my home.

"Get your filthy hands off me. I'm not going anywhere with you." I try to shove him away, my voice rising a pitch as the same lump from before burns my throat. No, screw that. If I have to choose between sad and angry, I'll fucking scream at this son of a bitch until my throat is so raw I can't even feel the tightness anymore.

"You can't tell me what to do!" I go on, pushing his chest again. And when that bastard doesn't reply, simply keeps watching me with that unreadable expression of his, I raise my voice a little more. "Fuck you! You took everything that mattered from me!"

I shove him again, this time enough for him to stumble a few steps into the backyard of my neighbors. And still, he says nothing. It only makes me angrier. I keep showing and pushing him, trying to get him to fucking react and scream back at me so I can stop feeling so damn lost.

"I hate you," I grit out when his back hits the wall behind him. But it's not enough. My blood is boiling beneath my skin, my heart racing with adrenaline and so damn much rage. I lean in to push him into the hard concrete with all my weight, hoping it hurts.

His eyes stay on mine, nothing betraying his thoughts but then his gaze drops to my lips which are mere inches from his. My heart stutters, dread coursing through me as I realize how close we are. Yet I can't move away, frozen in place by some unfathomable reason.

When the man's eyes find mine again, I swear something has changed. The cool control from before has melted into something new, something warm and tempting. I grit my teeth, becoming more and more aware of the proximity of our bodies. My hands are on his chest, the length of my body nearly touching his all the way.

I know the look he's giving me. He has no right to use that on me. He's the last person I want it from.

I hate him, I really do. So when his hands find my waist, hot and firm, I finally jump away. My back to him, I bend over and scream at the top of my lungs, trying to expel my pent-up emotions.

"So much for keeping a low profile. Get on my bike, Elodie, that's an order. Before someone calls the cops." His voice betrays nothing, even and collected as if the last few minutes hadn't happened.

Come to think about it, I'm not even sure what happened.

Resigned, I follow the man to his fucking bike and get on behind him. Only this time, I don't take the helmet when he offers. It's already hard enough to breathe, I don't need it to become harder. If we crash, we crash. Chances I'll survive are small either way so screw it.

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