"Tired of being sad. Tired of being tired."
*****
"You let him die."
I was sitting on the couch, my feet on the coffee table, staring at the urn. Niccolò stood at the door, arms crossed over his chest.
I sighed, as a dull ache settled on my chest. "When they changed the location, you sounded...you said, 'are you sure?' Like you were in doubt of something."
Niccolò shook his head. "I didn't—"
"Something was wrong, and you knew it. And instead of saying something, and stopping this meet from happening, you let him die."
"You wanted to see him, Neila."
"Not at the cost of his life!" I shouted.
He fell silent.
"Who...the fuck...killed him?"
"I don't know." He moved towards me, his eyes serious. "But I swear to you, I will find out."
I stood up. Our eyes stayed on each other, and nobody spoke. I nodded. He exhaled slowly, and turned to leave.
"And when you do," I started, crossing my arms, "you're not going to do what you did with Chris. You're not going to kill them."
He didn't say anything.
"You're going to find them. You're going to bring them to me. And I'm going to make them pay. Clear?"
"Neila—"
My voice raised. "Are we clear, Niccolò?"
His jaw locked. He nodded once and slipped out. Tears fell the second the door shut.
*****
"Want anything? Coffee? Tea?" It was Raven's poor attempt at trying to comfort me, something she'd been doing for the past few days now. She's also been eyeing the urn uncomfortably, like it made her feel weird to see it lounging on the coffee table next to a stack of magazines and a remote control.
"I want you to leave me the fuck alone," I muttered, filing my nails.
She took my answer in stride. "So no to coffee and tea. Neila, you have to...do something. You've been holed in here for days."
I ignored her, putting down the nail file and reaching for the black nail polish.
"I spoke to Nico today."
That got my attention. I looked up, my eyebrow raising.
Shit bit her lip. "No luck yet."
My eyes lowered again and I focused on opening the nail polish bottle and preparing to paint my nails. She sighed, finally catching on that I wasn't in the mood for idle chitchat. I'd sell you to Satan if it meant I'd get Tyler back, I thought as I watched her defeatedly walk back to her room to, most likely, call Niccolò and tell him what little progress she's been making.
Their relationship was getting really annoying. They talked about me again and again, like I was some kind of mental patient. I was fine.
Tyler was dead. Whatever.
That didn't matter anymore. What did matter was finding out who the fuck did it. My phone buzzed and I glanced at the screen to see a text from Niccolò. Sighing, I blew my nails as I used my fingerprint from my other hand to unlock my phone.
I turned off my phone and tossed it on the couch beside me.Tyler was dead.
If Niccolò wasn't going to help me, I'll go to the only person I knew who would. I stood up, walked to Raven's room and opened the door.
"Still want to help me?"
She nodded. "Of course."
"Did Niccolò tell you exactly what happened?"
She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. "No, not really. Just the meet went bad and Tyler...you know."
"Okay, well Niccolò said that Tyler was with a friend of his. Someone named Monkey."
Raven's eyes narrowed to slits. "What?"
"What?"
"Monkey? Are you sure that's what he said?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Because if you're right, then Niccolò's been lying to me. If Monkey is in New York, so is my sister."
YOU ARE READING
Paper Trails 2 | Draft
General FictionAs a dysfunctional, destructive, and strung out Neila struggles with the aftermath of traumatic events, she finds herself delving deeper into a pit of misery, loneliness, and anger.