Elliott Miller is your average 23 year-old, only with a lost father and a resentful mother. When he goes back to his hometown to make amends, he inadvertently gets dragged into the activities of an illicit criminal group.
Enter Marcel Nixon, 25, wh...
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"Ugh..." I grumbled, slapping blindly at the nightstand until my hand connected with the offending device. The insistent buzzing of my phone finally ceased, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. I pried my eyes open, the familiar soft light of my own bedroom filtering through the blinds.
I looked to my side to see if Marcel was awake yet and found the bed to be empty, which caused me to frown. However, my disappointment was soon replaced by understanding. Of course he'd already gotten up. My boyfriend was a bunch of living, breathing organs away from basically being a machine.
I heaved myself up but hissed at the sharp pain I felt in my lower back, one of the unfortunate side effects of our amazing time last night. I couldn't complain though, as our impossibly passionate time together had left me breathless. I bit down on a grin at the recollection, feeling euphoric despite my discomfort. As the saying goes: No pain, no gain.
As I swung my legs over the side over the side of the bed, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and scanned the room for my discarded clothes. The thought of a long, warm shower was irresistibly appealing, a way to soothe myself i and fully wake up.
I padded into the bathroom, the cool tiles a welcome contrast to the lingering warmth of the bed. Quickly brushing my teeth, I stepped under the spray, the hot water instantly soothed the ache in my back and the lingering sleepiness. The steam filled the small space, creating a comforting blanket around me and revitalizing my drowsy mood.
I finished drying my hair, the steam from the shower still clinging in the air. I pulled on one of Marcel's t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, and made my way downstairs, deciding to heed my stomach's incessant whining.
Vivien and Phoenix were already in the kitchen, a stack of pancakes sitting on the counter, with Phoenix flipping one more on the griddle. I grabbed a plate and helped myself to some, drizzling on some maple syrup and devouring the sweet goodness instantly.
"Yeah sure, just help yourself."
"Good morning to you too Viv."
Vivien rolled her eyes while Phoenix chucked and gave her a small peck on the cheek, making her blush instantly.
"Ahhem... whipped," I mumbled between coughs and earned myself a smack on the head.
"Oww, Phoenix help me out here," I whined, which made him laugh even more. Where was Marcel when I needed him? Speaking of...
"By the way, have either of you seen Marcel? He wasn't in bed when I woke up."
"Gee, I don't know. After all, you two were the ones who decided to skip dinner and frolic into the bedroom faster than I could say frick-frack."
I rolled my eyes at her childishness.
"Haha, funny. Also, no one likes a hypocrite." That would keep her quiet for a bit.
I quickly finished up and excused myself going to retrieve my phone from my nightstand. It lay face down on the familiar surface, the screen dark and silent. I flipped it over, my thumb hovering over the unlock icon, expecting a quick text from Marcel. But the screen remained stubbornly blank. No new notifications, no missed calls. Just the time staring back at me: 9:17 AM.
"Huh," I murmured, a slight frown creasing my brow. That was a little unusual. He almost always sent me a quick message if he left somewhere early.
I unlocked my phone anyways, scrolling through our recent conversations. Our earlier conversations were all there, but nothing from this morning. Not a single word.
I glanced up at thought back to yesterday, wondering if he'd said something to me when a piece of paper caught my eye. It was tucked beneath the reading lamp, neatly folded and seemingly placed deliberately.
I picked it up and opened it, my fingers tracing the familiar, slightly angular script. It was undeniably Marcel's since he was the only one I knew who wrote in cursive. I unfolded the paper crackling softly in the silence of the room.
I skimmed over the contents, my brows furrowing with every word. I appreciated the gesture but this only brought up more questions than it did answers.
What did "intricate matters that necessitate discretion mean"?
And why did he ask me not to worry?
Maybe Viv would know. She was more perceptive about this kind of stuff anyways.
I folded the note and made my way back downstairs to find Phoenix's arms wrapped around Viv's as they ate and whispered sweet nothings to each other.
Gross.
"He left a note," I announced, walking back into the kitchen.
Vivien looked up, a playful smirk on her face.
"Ooh, what romantic missive did your prince charming pen down?"
I think Phoenix noticed my gloomy look, shaking his head at her to signal that maybe it wasn't the right time. I shot him a grateful look for that and proceeded to hand the note over to her.
She scanned it quickly, Phoenix peering over her shoulder. Viv's smirk faded, replaced by a slight frown.
"HQ? What exactly does he do at this 'HQ' anyway?"
Phoenix shrugged.
"He's always been vague about his work. Something... security related, right?"
A seed of unease, subtle but persistent, began to sprout in my chest. Marcel was private, yes, but "intricate matters that necessitate discretion" felt a bit more serious than usual. And the lack of a direct phone call was still nagging at me.
"Yeah, security," I repeated, but the word felt hollow on my tongue. I suddenly felt a strong urge to be back in New York City, in familiar surroundings, waiting for his call there. This upstate quiet, which had been so peaceful just yesterday, now felt isolating.
"You okay, El? He did say not to worry." Vivien asked, her gaze sharp with concern. She knew me too well.
"Yeah, just... I don't know," I admitted, a sigh escaping my lips. "It seems a bit weird, that's all. No text, just this note about some urgent situation. And we both know the nature of his work so why would he specifically tell me not to now? It feels a bit obscure."
Vivien exchanged a look with Phoenix.
"Well," she said slowly, "we were planning on heading back later this week anyway. No reason we can't leave a bit earlier."
Phoenix nodded in agreement.
A wave of relief washed over me. The thought of being back in my apartment was a welcome one, even if I hadn't properly lived in it for a while.
"Thanks, guys. I'd really appreciate that."
The rest of the morning was a flurry of packing and cleaning up. The earlier lightheartedness being replaced with a shared sense of subdued anticipation. We loaded Vivien's car, the silence punctuated by the rustle of bags and the closing of doors.
As we drove back towards the city, the landscape blurring past the windows, my phone remained stubbornly silent. The note in my pocket felt like a tangible reminder of the unknown. "Intricate matters." The words echoed in my mind, no longer just a slightly odd phrase, but a growing source of confusion and genuine concern.
I knew in my heart that he was more than capable of taking care of himself but that thought offered little consolation. I guess all I could do now was just trust and hope.
