Chapter 79
Damien
Play - Ultraviolence by Lana Del Rey
The missing piece
It’s been two weeks since Mireya let me take her to that amusement park. Two weeks since her lips tattooed themselves on mine and I can’t seem to stop thinking about how it made me feel to feel her melt in my eyes and look up at me with a bright smile.
To feel the warmth of her body being pressed against mine.
Then, a few days ago she talked about her own memories.
Things she never said out loud, things that should’ve never happened.
And what’s not helping is seeing her every day, talking to her everyday without being able to do more than just existing next to her. Because it physically hurts.
I feel it in my bones. It breaks and reshapes to make sure I can continue to pretend. But I want more. I need more.
In the egoistic way a soul yearns for another soul.
And having her in my office isn’t helping at all.
Buying Chinese food so we can work together on her assignments and stuff for her exams isn’t helping either.
And looking at her like she’s the only thing interesting in the world is probably the worst thing to do.
I know her better now. That detached gaze she always has on, the way she always seems to survive and never happy enough. I know her. And I want to understand why she wants to leave and why she didn’t before.
She smiles, turning toward me. “What are you thinking about, Damien?”
The way my name sounds in her mouth feels safe enough for me to smile again; it’s been so long since I've smiled the way I do with her around.
“What makes you think that I’m thinking about something right now?”
“Mmmh, the fact that I literally asked you the same question four times and you never replied but kept looking at me?”
“Okay you got me here,” I reply, a faint smirk lifting my lips.
She tilts her head and asks again, “So?”
I breathe slowly, because I don't want to ask a question that might hurt her. “Why do you want to leave?”
“Because it’s safer for Milo, I already told you that,” she replies softly.
“And you? Would you be safe too?”
She closes her eyes and puts her head on my shoulder, “I don’t think I’ll ever be safe.”
“Why? I’m here and as long as I am, you will be safe.”
“You know, when my mom died, when she… when she killed herself, my grandmother wanted to take Milo and I to Algeria and live there with her.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“My dad didn’t want to lose Milo, and I didn’t want him to go through what I went through. So I stayed, and now I’m still here for him.”
“How old were you?” I ask as my hand slowly caresses her hair.
“It was so long ago, but I still remember the way it felt. She was there and then she was gone forever, and dad didn’t want me to see the body, or attend the funeral.
He didn’t go there himself because he felt ashamed that his girlfriend committed.
But it was her birthday, and she never had the chance to be older and be happier.
She was gone on the 25th of December and Christmas never felt the same after that. ”
“I’ll make sure the next ones will be better…”
She smiles but shakes her head, “You can’t rewrite the past.”
“I can write about the future.”
Her eyes sparkle softly and she says, “She’d probably like you… my mom I mean.”
I smile, and then my focus goes elsewhere. “Your dad, and your mom, weren't they married?” I ask softly.
She laughs sadly, “No, she wanted to. She truly did… but he never gave her his name, because she didn’t deserve it apparently…”
Suicide… almost twenty years ago. Why does it sound like— “I don’t remember her face.” I grab her chin pulling her toward me and in a second she’s hugging me. “Why can I not remember her face Damien?”
“Sometimes it’s better that way, Reya.”
She looks up at me confused and asks, “How could you know?”
Breathe.
“When I was a kid, my mom wasn’t happy. My dad left and she never healed from it. She actually drowned in alcohol and too many men at the house, and she died from that when I was just a kid.”
“Where do you go after that?”
Goddamn, I hate thinking about this. “I lived outside, for years, trying to find jobs, and anything that could help. That’s when I met the man who was working on the case, his name was Bobby.
He always brought me food every day until he asked me if I wanted a job, and I said yes, and here we are now. ”
“You don’t remember her?”
Do I?
“I remember her voice, I remember the way drugs killed her slowly, and I remember how she wasn’t conscious enough to see what was happening to me. But I don’t remember her face. It’s blurry, and sad. I don’t want to remember her that way.”
Her lips find mine slowly, and I follow her. A kiss from her and all I can do is breathe her existence like it’s the only thing that matters. She stops and kisses the corner of my lips before saying, “Thank you for listening to me. You always listen.”
“Thank you for listening to me too.”
She smiles before going back to her place and focusing on the files sat on the desk like she would rather think about something else. And I let her, because I do need to focus on something else too. We stay there until late at night and she leaves for her room.
But I can’t stop thinking about what she said about her mother. And so I take the road at 1am to the house that hides the case I took when I arrived here.
When I’m there, I’m almost scared that my suspicions would be true. But then I see the picture of the file, the date of the suicide, it makes sense.
25th of December.
I call Kyle immediately after. “Hey, are you still with the team?”
“Yep, we just finished our day, what’s going on Damien?”
“Remember the file I sent you when I arrived? The mysterious suicide? Can you check something for me?”
“Guys let’s come back in, boss needs us,” he screams at the others before I hear them opening the door and sitting. “Okay what do you need exactly?”
“Put me on speaker.”
“Done.”
“Lena, can you check if the victim was Algerian, and I need you to see if she had a child.”
“Give me a second,” she says as she types.
“Asma Redouane, she came to Seraphin Bay when she was eighteen to study. Her mother is still living in Algeria.” That’s…“And apparently she did have a kid. I have a picture from her funeral. There’s a frame with her holding a little girl.”
“Thank you, Lena. Kyle, send it to me, and Lena, try to see if you can find the same of the kid.” A second later I see a picture on my phone and everything is clear. “Oh fuck…” I whisper
“Boss, I have a name—”
“Mireya Vitelli…” I say.
I hear Lena saying, “How do you know that?”
But I can’t find the words.
“Thank you everyone, you can go now, I’ll take it from here.”
“Is everything okay, Damien?” Kyle asks.
“Are you still on speaker?”
“Nope, what’s going on, you’re scaring me?”
“Mireya Vitelli… She's the student who’s working with me on the case.”
“Oh fuck.”
“I have to go now. Let me know if there’s anything you find, keep working on her file, I want to know everything.”
“Okay, will do. Be careful, Damien.”
“I will, thank you…”
Mireya’s mother. Mireya’s mom was the first victim. And if he’s still alive, and still protected… It means he’s watching. And the note. The fucking note in front of my door.
Maybe he never left her?
She can’t know that. But everything makes sense now. He didn’t kill that young girl because classes started again. He did it because Mireya was going to enter St. Ellesta.
She’s in danger.
She’s in fucking danger and she can’t know about it. Mireya needs to finish it all, and leave.
I’ll catch this son of a bitch.