Dark Romanticism

IX

IX

I couldn’t believe my eyes when we climbed into his car. “What kind of car is this?” I ask. 

He laughed, his bad mood from earlier has disappeared. “It’s an Audi R8.”

“I think this costs as much as my apartment!” I told him, completely bewildered. 

He chuckled and then turned serious in a second. “I know you don’t know me that well, but what I tell you—you need to listen. If you ever see Dreanna—you run. You find someone to help you. She’s very dangerous.”

“Okay, I trust you. But, if you don’t date her, then how do you know her?” I asked, truly curious. 

“We have history.” 

“What kind of history?”

“None of your concern. Just trust me. Please.” 

“Okay, I will. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t go to the police, either,” he instructed. 

“Okay.” Why do I keep agreeing with him? “My turn.” I sat up in my chair and racked my head for questions. 

He sideway glanced at me, “For what?”

“To demand things from you.” I smiled and met his eyes. 

He looked surprised for a moment and then he broke into a grin and chuckled. “Okay, then.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Um, you can call me Grand,” he seemed nervous as he told me this. 

I raised a brow, “Is that your actual name?”

“No, but everyone calls me that.”

“‘Grand?’” I paused and smirked, “Why do they call you that?”

His smile faltered, but then his good mood returned and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me. 

I must’ve gaped at him because he started laughing and I reached over and slapped him on the chest. 

“Well, my name is Elsie,” I tell him. 

“Elsie, eh? Is that your real name?”

“Well, no. My real name is Elisianna Katherine George, but you can call me Elsie.” 

“I like Elisianna better,” he tells me quietly. 

“Hm. Another question; Why do I feel so comfortable with you?” I couldn’t believe my forward inquiry, but I had to ask. The way I was acting after what happened to me—it’s abnormal.

“Um, I think it’s better if we don’t talk about that.” He gripped his steering wheel harder and sighed angrily. “Look, you don’t have to be a part of this. You shouldn’t be. It has nothing to do with you.”

“What has nothing to do with me?” I pressed.

“You don’t need to know,” he shook his head. “You don’t seem to remember anything from earlier and if that remains the same then there’s no reason—”

I grew angry in a second. “Now, hold on! I’m the one who got attacked! Not you. I’m the one who had their throat torn out by some crazy bitch with extra-sharp canines. Now, I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to decide what I do!” 

I huffed and puffed then came another wave of anger. “And all that shit she was saying about Ben fucking Narmes. She probably killed him—but no one would fucking believe me because I’m the last one who saw him the night before he got murdered and the morning on! I’m the number one suspect for the freaking serial killer they’re hunting. Tell me how fucking ‘grand’ that is!” 

I shook my head readjusted myself in the chair. “Tell me how that’s not my fucking business.” 

“Elisianna...just trust me. You’re better off forgetting this ever happened.”

“Fuck you,”  I spit out. 

                                                                        ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

India patted my back. “I was worried sick about you.”

“Yeah, well, considering what happened I guess you weren’t off your mark.”

India and I had spent all night talking about what happened to me. Well, after I had spent hours crying at least. After Grand had dropped me off, the calm feeling I felt had evaporated and I was in a panic. 

“You could have died, Elsie! I still can’t believe it. You think she’s the killer?” India asked. 

“I’m not really sure—but she’s something.” 

India laughed and hugged me close. “I can’t believe she bit you! Who the fuck does that?”

“I don’t know.”

“And that man that saved you—Grand. He sounds delicious! You should fuck him.”

“I—India!”

She shrugs apologetically, “Well, it’d release some stress.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll ever see him again...” I trailed off. I felt a pang of sadness shoot through me. What is wrong with me?

“Exactly,” India and giggled and—despite myself—I joined her. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, but the last time I slept with someone I was accused of being a serial killer,” I reminded her and pushed back the tears that threatened to explode. 

“Well, I think you should go to the police despite what ‘Mr. Handsome’ said.” She gave me a stern look then pulled me into a hug. 

“But first, we’ll have chamomile tea and have a long, proper nap!”

“Can we watch Mean Girls?” I asked.

“I’m thinking Dracula,” she winked and pranced into her kitchen. 

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Hey guys! The next update should hopefully be on Monday or Tuesday! I hope you are enjoying it so far! I'm really trying to do a good job—the best is yet to come!

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