35. Elanee
35
ELANEE
I massage my toes as I watch some drama-fueled reality show. I can’t even remember the last time I’d casually lounged around like this. But thanks to a certain asshole, I had to reschedule my appointments for the week. And be fucked if I was going to listen to his threat regarding no male clients. Everyone wanted love, and so there was money in it for me to be made.
I watch as two men argue over the same woman on TV, never entirely understanding the concept of a love triangle. Then again, my situation is more fucked up than their scripted version.
My phone screen lights, and all the amusement I was finding from the television wipes. Because it’s not the phone I was hoping to receive a call. I swallow hard and mute the TV. I build my confidence before answering.
“Good evening, my Lion.” It’s unusual for him to call me at nighttime. Then again, it was never a schedule or predictable thing. He did what he wanted, when he wanted and I was simply the pet that had to come running along when he said fetch.
“My little dove,” he purrs. I hate the nickname he gives me because of the implied insinuation. A reminder constantly of my wings that were clipped. “I’m quite angry today.”
Blood drains from my face. I don’t like his tone. I know what kind of escapades he’s had when he has this narrow-minded tunnel vision. “W-Why, my Lion?” I internally reprimand myself for the stutter. I curse the immediate fear that swells back into place. This volatile whiplash of moments of happiness and then reality comes crashing down.
“Slater’s gone missing. Do you happen to know anything about that?” His tone has a lethal edge.
My mouth is dry and I can’t speak. Does he think I have something to do with it?
“No, sir. I didn’t know. I only checked in with him a few days ago.” I’m confused.
“Hmmm,” he purrs, and I can imagine him stroking his thick black beard. “This is the second person I’ve now put in charge of you that has been disposed of. Is there something you’re not telling me, my little dove?”
Knots twist in my stomach and bile threatens to come up. He’s going to hurt me. He’s going to hurt my family. He’s going to kill us all.
I try to push all the conditioned thoughts away and try not to retract into myself. “No, sir. Except that I miss you.”
Survive.
Look to the ground.
Apologize.
Become insignificant.
He chuckles down the line. “My pretty little dove, are you trying to grovel?”
“It’s only the truth,” I whisper, believing my own lie. Because I have to, when he’s like this… he… does things… hurts people.
“Have you seen my son yet?” he asks, and it’s more like he’s purring down the line, knowing the full effect he has on me even when he can’t see me.
The mention of Dmitri fractures my heart like ice shattering. I stand and walk to my window, hoping that the movement will flush out this fear and adrenaline coursing through my body.
“No, my Lion. Although I must confess, he is a highly requested candidate for my services.”
He laughs. “A handsome fella then, huh?”
I think of my meeting with Luca and Dmitri. Be the bait. I don’t want to do it. But I know my role to play in this. Even if I don’t make it out alive, at least hopefully, and maybe, this monster will never hurt anyone else again, especially Dmitri and my family.
“Will you come visit soon?” I ask. “I don’t want to burden you, but it’s also… lonely here.”
He’s silent for a moment. Something that’s always made me uncomfortable because it means he’s making calculations about something.
“Soon, my little dove, soon.”
The phone hangs up, and I cover my mouth, trying to steady my breathing before the panic takes hold. I try to push away the insinuation and invitation for him to ever touch my body again.
I push my face out of the already open window, enjoying the breeze, letting it do it’s best to wipe away my worries. That’s when I notice them. A person in a hood staring up at me.
At first, I really think I am going mad from paranoia, but when they make no move to change, simply openly watching me with their hands in their pockets, my skin crawls. I close the window and curtain.
Turbulent emotions roll over me, wave after wave. I run to the kitchen sink and vomit as tears begin to stream down my face. And then I find myself screaming. I can’t get it all out. This feeling of impending doom and fear. The constant reminder that no matter how I look at it, I’m trapped. No matter how much I fight it, no matter how strong I want to be, I can’t because I know I’m just fighting the devil himself.
Another part of me breaks. Perhaps a part that will never be picked up again.
I thought you would’ve killed yourself. Lyle’s words are a cutting-edge.
I hold my hands to my chest as I slide down the kitchen cabinet, trying to push those thoughts away.
But wouldn’t it be easier for everyone?
Tears stream down my face as I give in to exhaustion and cry, trying my hardest to ignore the punishing words and remind myself that they’re invasive thoughts. I don’t want this.
I’m resigned to my circumstances, and I’d be lying if Dmitri and Layla didn’t spark hope back into my heart, but that’s what made every step of the way devastating.
Because I know the only role I have to play is to coax the monster out so they can kill him.
Truth be told, I don’t see myself stepping out on the other side.
I’d long given up on the hope that there was any other place for me.
That knowledge does nothing to remove the clawing fear that strangles my ability to breathe.