Kidnapped Love

Chapter 22

Chapter 22:

I wrestle with the balcony door, shoving it until the lock clicks. The feeling of security is superficial; the invasion has already breached my sanctuary. My hands skim over the disheveled pile of clothes on the floor, folding them with deliberate slowness. Each garment feels tainted, a whisper of the intruder's touch lingering on the fabric. I draw in a deep breath, tasting the staleness of the air, heavy with the residue of the day's earlier chaos.

I shake off the unease, forcing myself to focus on the upcoming evening. The mirror reflects a girl trying to piece herself back together. A dab of concealer to hide the shadows under my eyes, a stroke of mascara to brighten them up. I slip into a soft blue dress that makes my eyes pop—a dress that Derek would like.

Memories of our last conversation claw at me. I had been so sure, so accusatory. And now, doubt creeps in, mingling with the need to make amends. Derek's friend may be innocent, and here I am, caught in a tangle of suspicions.

I whisper to my reflection, practicing the smile I'll offer him as an olive branch. The break-in, the car accident—they're backdrops to tonight's more pressing concern: fixing things with Derek.

With one last glance at the scattered remnants of my privacy, I step out of my room, clutching onto the hope of setting things right.

I pause, hand on the doorknob, as my phone chirps with a new message. The screen lights up with Derek's name, and I can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation despite the chaos of today. His message is concise: "Meet at The Lotus Lounge, park in the back, near my truck. I type out an 'okay' with a thumb that trembles slightly.

The drive to The Lotus Lounge feels surreal, like I'm floating between two worlds—the one where my room is ransacked and my life seems to hang by a thread, and this other, where normalcy lies in seeing Derek's smile. Streetlights streak past, their glare jarring against the night. Each pulse of light is a reminder of the doctor's words: "Take it easy." But there's a stubborn resolve within me, pushing through the headache that throbs at my temples.

I take the familiar turn into the alleyway behind the lounge, bypassing the more public parking spots. It's quieter here, hidden from the main drag, and as I roll to a stop, I spot the white pickup truck that belongs to Derek. Its presence is oddly comforting, serving as a beacon in the night that guides me closer to what I hope will be a resolution.

Parking next to his truck, I switch off the engine and sit for a moment, taking deep breaths to steady myself. The harshness of the outdoor bulbs fades as my eyes adjust to the dimness, and I gather my strength to face him—to fix us.

My fingers hover over the screen, and I tap out a message to Derek: "I'm here." The response is almost instantaneous, a ping that has me glancing down just as another text illuminates my phone. "Come in," it reads. With a nod to myself, I reach to stash the device in my purse, but it slips from my grasp, tumbling into the dark chasm beside the passenger seat. I jam my hand down the side, stretching for the escaped phone, but it evades my touch. Resigned, I pull back empty-handed. It can wait. Derek can't.

The night air nips at my exposed skin as I step out of the car, locking the door behind me with a soft chirp. I approach the service entrance, its surface etched with the wear of countless openings and closings. The sign affixed to it, "Employees Only," seems almost foreboding now. My hand wraps around the cold metal handle, a shiver chasing up my spine that isn't solely from the temperature. The door groans open, protesting its use at this late hour.

Darkness greets me like a tangible force, swallowing up the faint light from outside. I pause, letting the door swing shut with a resonating thud that seals me inside this void. Silence envelops me, thick and oppressive, punctuated only by the distant hum of the city beyond these walls. For a moment, I'm adrift in the black, the unsettling quiet magnifying the thrumming of my own heartbeat in my ears.