Prologue #3
I paused, nodded, and slowly walked back toward my room, scared out of my mind.
The sirens grew louder and closer, and after about five minutes of being stuffed beneath the clothing I had put on top of myself, I heard Remy scream again.
It was loud, blood-curdling, and dramatic, it pierced the walls, even in a house this big.
Under mounds of clothing, it still gave me chills.
But I lay there, just like she had told me.
Eventually, I heard the door open, and the police called out for me to come from my hiding place.
They escorted me to the living room and made me answer a million questions, which I could barely focus on from the screams of Remy. We were interviewed well into the wee hours of the morning, and by then, a man whom I believed to be her father had come to pick her up.
He ushered her into the back of a black truck and then came over to me.
“Hi, I’m Mr. Cross. My daughter is concerned about you. My guards are going to take you to a hotel for the moment, she said she’ll come visit you later in the day.”
I was speechless, so I just nodded. I had no choice but to go. I had a bit of money saved, but no car and no family to turn to at this time. It might sound crazy, but being in the hands of strangers was better than being on the streets. He waved, and a second truck pulled up alongside us.
Slowly, I climbed into the back seat. We drove for a bit before I was taken to an expensive hotel with high ceilings, golden fixtures, and a beautiful city view. But I couldn’t enjoy it. I was too busy trying to piece together what was happening.
The whole morning, I alternated between sitting outside, watching the city move, and watching the television that was mounted on the wall.
Before I knew it, the sun had made its appearance, and there was a knock at my door.
It startled me. I walked over to the peephole and looked out to see Remy standing there.
Hesitantly, I opened the door. She had changed clothes but was still in full glam. I hadn’t noticed the bodyguard beside her until he made himself known and stood in front of the door just as I was about to close it.
“Hi,” she spoke softly as she hugged me and walked through the room, carrying a tote bag as if she were doing a security sweep herself. I stared in confusion.
“Remy, no one’s here,” I assured her as I walked behind her when she went over to the bathroom sink. She grabbed a towel and turned on the water, letting it soak the cloth and then squeezing it.
She started to talk as she ran the rag over her face. Every sentence came after a swipe of the cloth.
“You know what I said last night to you about second chances? That you may get one but never a third?”
Here it was again, this riddle. I didn’t know what she meant, but I nodded as she plucked her lashes off and set them on the coffee table.
“Y-yeah.” I stuttered my answer as she continued to take off her glam.
“That’s not just true for you, but for me as well.
I did my research on you. Your story touched me, and now that you’ve lost your boss, I really want to help you start your life over.
I want to give you the ability to make the right choices, k?
” She asked as she walked over to the bag that she had sat down when she first came in and handed it to me.
Then she finally looked me in the eye and stole my breath away. Her once flawless face was now bruised, black and blue.
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered. I wanted to reach out and hug her, but she held her hand up like she didn’t want sympathy.
Remy was the rarest kind of person. She was in my room and concerned about me, but just hours before had been beaten, bound, and her fiancé had been killed.
But she still came just as she had promised.
“I’m fine, here take it.” She said as I took the bag and peeked inside. The bag had about ten neat stacks of bills labeled ten thousand dollars.
“Remy, I can’t-”
“Girl, you can. Be the best you that you can be, okay? I hope your second life is good to you.” She said, this time allowing me to pull her into me, as I rocked her from side to side. We parted, and I stared at her.
“Thank you so much,” I said as tears fell from my eyes.
She winked, put on her shades, and walked out the door just as quickly as she had come.
I walked over to the chair in the corner of the room and broke down in disbelief, confused but thankful we crossed paths.
Remy felt like my guardian angel. Then, out of nowhere, something hit me like a ton of bricks.
Flashes of the night before. Remy had been wearing makeup when I walked into the kitchen last night.
Slowly, the pieces came together one after another.
The bruises, the promise to go to bed with him.
Then those words from weeks ago replayed themselves over and over again in my head.
“Words are one thing, love. But if Karlos ever puts his hands on me, he’ll be buried so fast they won’t even need to embalm him.”