Chapter Eight
Emery
Resting the side of my head on the window, the cold fog coating the glass is the only thing cooling the heat coursing through my blood at being so close to Sebastian.
He barely fits in the back seat. His body is coiled tightly in the small space, his knee excruciatingly close to mine. If I moved an inch, we’d be touching, and I have to fight the urge to do just that. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at Sebastian, taking in every detail of him I can. There was so much going on in the apartment that I didn’t get a chance to, but then he shifts, and I look away before I get caught.
I’m not sure where we are going, but I recognise some of the streets leading us back into the city. The drive is quiet, with only the rumble of the engine, but the tension is so thick I can barely breathe.
With a need to escape, I find myself burrowing deeper into the side of the car, trying to think about anything other than my proximity to the man I’ve only dreamed of being this close to. The gentle way he inspected my ankle was so unexpected, I hadn’t dared to move in fear of ruining the moment.
Even his slightest touch was all too much and not enough at the same time. I’ve imagined his touch. I’ve dreamt of it. And even though my fantasy felt as close to tangible as it could be, it’s nothing like the real thing.
It didn’t start out this way—as an overwhelming obsession. It was only meant to be an escape. A place I could go to get away from the darkness threatening to consume me, but over time, it became something more. A false reality where every dream and everyjournal entrypulled me closer to a blooming desire I didn’t know how to control. But I didn’t stop it. I let myself be dragged further into it because anything was better than the hell I was living.
We slow down in front of a flashy building, what looks to be—a nightclub? It’s too early for it to be open, though I’m not sure it would be during the week, but instead of stopping, we turn down a side street and pull up to what I assume is the back entrance.
Hope blossoms in my chest at the thought of finally being free of my past, or as free as I can be. But it sits alongside the ache at the thought of never seeing Sebastian again.
Could I really leave him?
I may get lost in my head, in the fantasy created by a time of desperation, but deep down, deep down in the dark recess of my heart, I know there could never be anything between us.
Too many lies.
Too many secrets.
Too many broken pieces.
Just seeing him in the flesh these past couple of months, whether he knew I was there or not, soothed a part of me. I didn’t feel the need to write in my journal. It was enough for me to live in this in-between state—not completely out of reality, but not completely in it either.
“Where are we?” I ask, studying the exterior of the building.
It’s nothing special from the back, just plain bricks and a single solid steel door.
“Let’s go.” Sebastian gets out of the car without another word.
“But—” I’m alone before I can finish my sentence, the echo of a car door the only thing remaining.
I jump out of the car and hurry,hobble,after them, making sure to sling my backpack on. There’s not a chance I’m leaving it out of my sight.
My heart had stopped when Sebastian reached for my bag. It was the only way I would be able to get my journal out of there without them seeing, and that was the only reason I went back to the apartment in the first place, ending up in this mess. I wasn’t going to leave without it. Not only that, it was also the only connection I had to Sebastian. At least aversionof him. Although squished in this back seat together,with him,that might not be entirely true anymore.
Sebastian and Easton’s hushed conversation in the doorway to the apartment gave me just enough time to reach down and grab it before stuffing it in my bag.
A sense of relief still lingers, knowing I have it and it’s safe, but losing my camera leaves an ache I’m not sure will go away.
Photography has been a part of my life since I was a kid—one of the only things that brought me closer to the mother I lost before I could really know her, and with everything life’s thrown at me, it’s been the one constant. And now it’s gone.
It’s just a camera. I could eventually replace it.
But it wouldn’t be the same.
It wouldn’tmeanthe same.
Sebastian and Easton wait for me by the door, their eyes tracking my every move, ready to pounce if I run. Not only would I not get anywhere with my ankle, which continues to swell with every minute that passes, the pain a constant throb, but I need these documents and the flight.
Even if I managed to actually find someone to do them for me, it could be months before I might afford them on my own.