Celeste's childhood wasn't something she loved talking about. It was filled with nothing but painful memories. Whether they were the ones from when her father, along with her brothers, left, or the ones from her mother's death and her stepfather's a...
tw: mentions of abuse and (brief) mentions of suicidal thoughts. please be careful while reading :)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ALTHOUGH MY SURROUNDINGS were quiet, my mind was not. A raging storm had started in my head, refusing to halt regardless of all distractions. The rain continued to fall, and the thunder continued to roar. The lightning struck my thoughts and hindered their trail.
My vision remained blurry regardless of my attempts to wipe my eyes clean. My body moved on its own accord as I rummaged through my closet, tossing everything onto the floor as I searched for the USB Lorenzo had given me.
The components of time blended and merged, and the storm occupying my chest grew wilder with every tick of the clock. I failed to process how much time had passed before I stumbled upon the USB and took it out. As soon as it was in my hand, I found myself walking to the bed and plugging it into Marco's laptop.
Although the sun had settled and the darkness had begun to creep into the sky, Lorenzo and I were the only ones home. We had spent hours at the police station because Armani thought that we should report whatever had happened yesterday before anyone else could twist the story and use it against us. After tons of questions and hours of explaining the events and how I had stopped the man from hurting Marco further, I'd cracked.
I had broken apart into shreds and failed to get any other word out. I had cried until my eyes turned red and my lungs stopped coordinating with the rest of my body. I had refused to go to a hospital to get my injuries checked, and I had begged my father to let me go back home along with Lorenzo.
And he had agreed.
We left the station and made it toward his car. The entirety of the world was a blur as Armani helped Marco into the passenger seat, and my older brothers slipped into the backseat.
As for me, I lingered outside, watching the man in the far distance as he headed toward us. I stared blankly at him as my mind attempted to distinguish between past and present—as I tried to convince myself that I hadn't seen him before.
"Sweetheart?"
I flinched when I sensed Armani's grip on my shoulder, subconsciously taking a step away from him.
The man had activated a ticking bomb at the back of my mind. I was running out of time with every minute I wasted. I needed to determine whether the man indicated danger. I needed to figure out whether he'd hurt me or not before the time ran out. I had to find out whether running away was necessary.
"Celeste?"
He was so familiar. My head pounded. He was so familiar. I'd seen him in the past. He was familiar.
Armani's gaze followed mine until it landed on the man. His grip tightened on my shoulder, a quiet curse slipping past his lips. "Go to the car, Celeste," he told me. "Come on, get in."
