Page 12 of Queen Of Diamonds
Debating whether to call Peyton or Melody, who both understood the moods I could go into, to talk me back down, I decided to try and handle it myself and not wake them up.
Kicking the fluffy duvet off my legs, I wandered into the attached bathroom.
Without turning the light on, I continued to ignore the razor on the shelf beside my SSRI’s and ran a brush through my silky locks.
After I splashed some water on my face, I headed for my Gucci flip-flops, making sure I snagged my cell, ear-buds, and a hoodie.
I slipped into the eerily silent pitch black. I couldn’t even hear the AC unit I knew was on. Creeping down the stairs like a thief in the night, I felt a tingling sensation down my spine. This didn’t feel like a house. It was more like a tomb. I felt like someone was watching me from the shadows.
Making it to the front door without any run-ins, I quickly exited.The sound of crickets chirping away was instantly soothing. Feeling an Aquilo song was fitting, I hit play onSilhouette, slipped my hands into the pockets of my zip-up hoodie, and I made my way down the drive. I had no destination. I just needed to walk, to do something other than drown my face in a pillowcase of tears and fight the devil on my shoulder.
At this hour and in this secluded area I wasn’t surprised to find the streets barren. Most of the homes weren’t visible from the road which added a layer of privacy. I wasn’t sure how long I walked or if I would have noticed the car slowly creeping behind me if I hadn’t decided to cross the street.
Fear was what most people would have felt, but, I chose to fall in love with the car. A classic diamond blue half Mustang convertible.
I turned towards it, pausing my music. It stopped when I did. After sweeping my gaze over the flawless exterior, I tried to see in the windows, but they were tinted too dark.
The passenger side window slowly came down revealing one of my constant thoughts in the flesh.
“Get in,” he said. “Elena, get in the car,” he repeated a little harsher when I didn’t move.
Implored by some unknown force to do what he asked, without taking one minute to stop and consider, I approached the car.
He reached over and popped the door open for me, and I got in. Wordlessly, he shifted and did a U-turn, heading back the way I’d just come from.
Chapter Five
Ididn’t ask any questions.
It was always when someone thought they were all alone that they completely let their guard down. I’d watched her long enough to get the synopsis of what she was feeling.
The smell of her body-wash filled the cabin–cherry blossom if I had to guess.
I’d give her a few minutes of silence while I had my own. I had packages of cocaine on their way to an undisclosed location,
and I had stacks of cash inside my desk that needed to start being structured out and cleaned up.
It could wait––a perk of being my own boss. If things got too tight, Elias would step in for me, having my full permission to make decisions.
I knew what I was doing. I was taking the woman I’d become instantly infatuated with to a rural diner outside the city at damn near one in the morning. I didn’t know why I was doing it.
My twisted angel just climbed into a car with a man who was morally inept. Remarkably, except where she was concerned.
I think she knew that about me––sensed it somehow––just like I knew there were layers beneath her surface begging for me to shred, cut, or peel away.
That’s what made her twisted, she was such a pure, naïve little thing, yet she didn’t seem to mind that I was an underground king.
I couldn’t get on the love at first sight bandwagon that just wasn’t my forte. But did I imagine the million different ways I would fuck her? Yes. To love pussy did not mean to love the woman on the other side of it.
I believed in the click I felt when my eyes first met hers, and her eyes said she felt it too. I believed we had a future of trying to destroy one another on the horizon. This game was not going to be suited for the faint of heart. They never were–but I knew she would be different. I was almost excited. I reminded myself to have patience because timing was everything.
“What year is this?” Her soft voice pulled me from my thoughts. She was trailing her fingers along the ridges of the white bucket seat.
“Sixty-four, completely restored.”
“I love it,” she mused. “So where are you taking me?”
“Here,” I replied minutes later, coasting into the parking lot of Max’s retro-themed diner.
