His Vanilla Girl | ✔

Chapter Ten

But they didn’t get that far. The moment they climbed the stairs to his loft door, they found it slightly ajar. And even before he pushed it open, he could see a feminine hand with its palm facing up on his dark hardwood floor.

“Maria, I want you to go down the stairs and call 911, tell them we need the paramedics here, pronto.” He wasn’t sure what he was about to walk into and didn’t want her caught in the middle. Yet, it made him nervous leaving her alone while he went inside. Sylvester placed his hand on the door and took a deep breath. He hoped to God that whoever it was wasn’t dead and that whoever left her there was gone.

As the door revealed more of the body, his heart sank. A pool of blood surrounded her familiar head like a halo. Stepping inside, he walked towards the body, his hands closing into tight fists by his side as his stomach churned at the smell.

“Oh Felicity,” he murmured sadly, dropping to his knees beside her. Sylvester knew it was pointless to search for a pulse, her eyes were wide open and already glazed over. It looks like she got hit in the back of the head. He probably shouldn’t touch her, but her glossy eyes creeped him out, so he slid his hand over her face to close her eyes.

Even though their time together as submissive and dominant didn’t last very long, his heart hurt for her. She was young and had so many dreams. Glancing over at her outstretched left hand, he noticed a ring.

“Well shit!” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Looks like one of her dreams came true since he last saw her. 

Her other hand was laying across her abdomen, and something glittered as it caught the light overhead. Leaning over her, he saw the corner of a key peeking out of her hand. Well, that explains how she got in.

Maria burst through the open door and skidded to a stop. “Oh god!” she cried, covering her mouth with her hands, cheeks pale. “Is she…” She left her words hanging, unable to seemingly finish her sentence.

“Yes,” he said bluntly. Standing up, he walked over to his bar and poured himself a straight glass of whiskey and downed the shot, and then filled another and gave it to Maria, hoping it would bring some color back to her pale cheeks. He didn't want another medical catastrophe on his hands.

“How long till they get here?” he asked.

As soon as he spoke, he heard the sirens in the distance which answered his question. Sylvester poured another glass and downed it again. He couldn’t get her lifeless eyes out of his head.

He wanted to put a blanket over her, but knew better than to tamper with a crime scene. Sitting on his couch, he rested his arms on his knees and bowed his head. What the fuck was going on with his life? A shiver rippled through him.

The cushion beside him shifted as Maria joined him. She placed an arm around him and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Did you know her?”

“We were involved about a year ago.”

She didn’t respond to his words, instead she hugged him a little tighter. As much as he didn’t want her to see the girl on his floor, he was grateful that she was there with him. He placed a hand over hers and squeezed it. They stayed like that until the firefighters knocked on his open door. After he acknowledged them, they walked over to the girl.

“Can anyone tell us what happened?” one of them asked.

Patting Maria on the hand, Sylvester got up off the couch, squared his shoulders and looked over at the body again. “We just got back from dinner and found my door ajar. She was on the floor, exactly like that.”