A Taste of Darkness

Chapter 10: Deception

Scarlett

I want to punch something.

The benefit of living here was that if you ever needed something to take your anger out on, you always had a free gym at your disposal with punching bags left and right, I could go there right now. But, I remembered that I had to call Elena first, I haven't talked to her since the day before yesterday, so I needed to let her know that I was okay. . . at least physically.

I sort through the clutter of things on the table beside my bed, and eventually find my phone. Typing in the password- oh wait, I have an idea. Ok, maybe it was a petty one, but it was still a good idea, at least in my view. That being that I should change the password on my phone to 'I hate Julio'. A smirk instantly forms on my face at the thought of it. Later...

I let the phone ring for a few seconds, waiting. But luckily, in classic Elena fashion, she picks up almost immediately.

"Nice to know you're not dead," she jokes, it's sarcastic but not angry. However, there is a slight amount of anger there, enough to know that she would have preferred if I called sooner.

"Sorry I didn't call sooner, it's just been super busy. And I'm also sorry that I left so suddenly, I just didn't want you know who to come into the apartment and come across you. I know you would have preferred not to meet him," I explain, hoping for forgiveness.

"Don't be sorry about that second thing, 'cause you're right. By the time you were out the door, I was hiding in the closet, just in case," she jokes, earning a laugh to erupt between the two of us. But just for a second, before the reality of my situation sets in again and the conversation becomes more serious.

"How has it been?" Elena breathes, questioning me while looking for any sign of doubt even though we're not face-to-face at the moment, but we didn't need to be. We could easily detect the emotions taking over one another even if we weren't physically with and couldn't see each other. The tone of our voices or the way we breathed was enough information.

"Do you really want to know?" I reply with a sigh, quickly taking a peak at the door to make sure no one is listening to our conversation.

"That bad, huh?" she states, it's not a question but more of a conclusion, although I can detect a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"But hey, at least I don't have a bullet in my skull yet," I joke, trying to lighten the mood and the too- serious-for-my-liking turn this conversation has taken. But I soon realise that that wasn't exactly the right way to try and lighten the mood by the heavy atmosphere that begins to dawn over the phone call. Yeah. . . joking about how I could get shot in the head was definitely not one of my best jokes.

"You didn't accept the job because of me, did you?" Elena asks concerned, breaking the silence. Damn, she knows me so well, doesn't she? The real answer was yes, I did accept this immoral job so I could provide money for you, but I couldn't say that. It would cause guilt to hang in her chest for a very long time, if not for the rest of her life, and in no way did I want her to feel that. As I looked for possible answers that I could tell her, I began to locate a different reason for why I accepted the job, an underlying, barely noticeable one that lived within the deepest part of my mind. So deep that I couldn't distinguish what exactly it was. But I could figure out that one of the feelings within it was curiosity. About what, I don't know.

"No, of course not. I just didn't like working at the club, you know that," I assure her, lying through my teeth, and pray to a god I don't believe that she'll believe me.

I can hear her let out a soft sigh and I can only hope that it's one of relief, "Ok, if you say so," she gives in. Maybe I'm better at acting than I initially thought.