"What thing worthy of love can be found in me?"
- Franz Kafka, from Letters To Milena
(This fits Dante so well.)
. . .
LILY JENKINS
I didn't need books - at all. I already had a mountain of unread books that Dante and I had bought together last time, and I didn't even feel like reading these days. I was here just to distract myself. I didn't want to think of what Dante was planning - I didn't want to think of how they were actually going to murder Alisa. I didn't want to think about how they had already murdered Samuel. I didn't want to think about any of it.
My life used to be so simple. I would write during the night, and hang out with friends in the morning. I'd spend hours in libraries and lazying around with my cats that I later had to give to a friend. I'd have book signings in the evenings, sometimes even interviews. My life used to be so simple.
Now I was living with a mafia boss with whom I did not have a defined relationship. I was being hunted by one of the most powerful assassins in the world. I was in freaking Australia and I hadn't written a word in ages. I didn't even have a contract with a publishing house anymore. I knew if I wanted one I could easily get it - but with what book? What I was working on was not even nearly finished. That whole story felt like a stranger now.
Through every turn in my life, every curve ball that life had thrown at me, I always turned it into words. But ever since we did what we did to Samuel, every word I wrote crumbled and vanished. Every sentence was the most generic thing I had ever written and no story whatsoever lived in my mind. It felt empty without a story - I felt empty without a story.
"I'm going to the washroom," I whispered to Marco or Nino and walked away. I thought being in a bookstore would help but all these new books, especially by fantasy authors, reminded me that I had lost my art.
I walked into the washroom and put my face into my hands, sighing deeply. What was wrong with me? Even going through the worst time in their lives, my mothers had still written masterpieces.
I heard a gasp.
I looked up. An alarmed Olivia Creed, dressed casually and still looking radiant, looked back at me.
I gulped, trying to compose myself. "Hello."
She was frozen, completely frozen. She slowly looked towards a locked stall and then back at me. She lifted a finger to her red lips, signalling me to be quiet. Then she pointed to the door. "Go!" She hissed. "Right now, go!"
I frowned. What was wrong?
"What's wrong, Livy?"
The door of the locked stall opened and a beautiful tall, blond woman exited it. I instantly knew who it was. Alisa Sokolov. A gun danged in her hands.
She looked at me and then at Olivia. "Calm down," She said to her as she pocketed her gun and washed her hands. "I am not murdering her in a washroom." She gave me a twisted smile and dried her hands. "It will be something far better." She walked closer. Olivia grabbed my hand, pulling me behind her.
"Alisa - please-"
"I am not even doing anything, Livy," She gave her friend a warm smile. It was a bit too warm. Rage was written all over Alisa's face. "And- weren't you so close to Kylie, Livy? Why are you defending her." She nodded her head towards me but did not look at me. Her fists were clenched. My heart was thundering.
"Because," said Olivia. "I am rational. She didn't do anything-"
"That's the point," Alisa all but snarled. "She didn't fucking do anything. She just fled."
"She was injured-" Olivia shook her head. "Do you want war with the Valentinos? Because that is what will happen. You'd be endangering everyone and everything - your brother, Rose, Nikolai - everyone, Alisa. Samuel is lost cause, but you...please."
Alisa gulped. There was pure pleading in Olivia's voice. If that was directed towards me, I would have done anything she wanted.
Alisa shook her head. "I should have known you were taking me out to just talk about this."
"I was gonna get you drunk first," Olivia muttered. "Just..." She looked back at me. "Leave, Lily."
I did not need to be told twice.
I nodded and walked out of the bathroom, keeping my eyes on Alisa who smirked in farewell but then she looked down at Olivia, and every bit of rage melted from her face. She looked human. She looked...
I paused. Oh.
I walked back to Marco and Nino, my heart still beating out of my chest. That was fucking scary. Alisa was murderously beautiful. Except for her face, every bit of her skin that I could spot had scars on it.
"Are you okay?" Asked Marco or Nino.
I just nodded. "I-I want to go home." I felt the phantom embrace of another night that'd be spent in worry. These days, all I knew was panic.
Marco and Nino drove me back home. I was still deep in thought when I saw him.
Samuel Creed standing on the sidewalk. His head was ducked, but it was him. The yellow light of the streetlight fell on him, illuminating those broad shoulders. His head lifted. And then I blinked and he was gone.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath quickening. No.
I was still seeing him. I had thought I wasn't because I didn't the whole day but I was still seeing him. He was still haunting me. My mind was still playing tricks on me.
I put a hand on my heart, feeling it quicken. I tried to get my breath in control, but I couldn't. Was I hyperventilating? Was this a panic attack? My body felt light. My face was washed in sweat. My eyes squeezed out tears and before I knew it I was falling back in my seat. Before I knew it I was lighter than a feather and the panic had consumed me whole.
For a moment it was peaceful.
. . .
🧍🏻♀️
