His Absolute Betrayal - Elise's Love Story: The Billionaire's Continuum (#2) (A Contemporary Romance Novel) (16 page)

I walked towards the passenger side door of the cab and bent down, peeking through the window.  "How much was it?" I asked.

He tapped his finger on the meter to show me the fare, not bothering to speak.

I swallowed hard, worry and regret sinking into the pit of my stomach.  Maybe this was a bad idea.  I obviously didn't have any friends here.  Not that I should expect a random cab driver to be my friend, but I thought he could at least try to act a little nicer.  I fished through my purse for my wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill for him.

"You can keep the extra," I said, handing him the money.

He nodded.  Still no smile.  Nothing.

I just gave him twice the amount I owed him.  I thought he could at least smile.

As soon as I pulled my hand back through the window, he drove away.  The rear tires of the taxi nearly ran over the toes of my shoes, but I jumped back just in time.  I stared after him, watching him leave.

And that was it.  I was alone again.

The parking garage at Landseer Tower had lights scattered every so often throughout the complex, but it still looked dark and dreary.  A few cars occupied this level, parked here and there, but not many.  Most people had left for the day.

Well, what should I do now?

Lucent knew how to get into the building after dark, because he had a special access code in case he wanted to work later.  Unfortunately, I knew no such code, not even his.  He was one of the Directors, barely a step beneath Asher Landseer, CEO.  I was just some girl that worked there, writing, participating in an experimental new branch of the business run by Asher's wife.

I remembered staying here overnight once, but that was a long time ago and under much different circumstances.  I was angry at Lucent then, too.  He refused to speak to me, refused to see me.  He told me I should leave, that I shouldn't want to see him.  He basically told me that our lives together were over, which was strange at the time because our lives had never started.  We'd spent a weekend trapped in the library together, but that was it.

Or was it?

To be fair, we grew close then.  We talked.  I enjoyed his company, even if I hadn't at first.  He was terse and commanding, obsessive, mysterious, and confusing, but somehow I ended up liking him.  I didn't really know how, but it seemed natural.  There was a lot to like about Lucent when I thought about it.  There was a lot to dislike, too.

Thinking back on it made me laugh.  Maybe I was foolish and illogical.  Maybe I was an idiot.  I spent a weekend in a library with a man I barely knew except for what I'd seen on TV and YouTube videos online.  What was a weekend?  Nothing, really.

Except it had been something.  We didn't just stay in the library, we were trapped there.  We dealt with a snowstorm, the electricity going out.  We
lived
there in a way, but it was more than that, too.  I spent every waking moment at Lucent's side, learning more and more about him.  I saw the way he breathed while he slept, the usually tight and tense expression on his face giving way to a softer, sleepy look.  I learned about him while he was awake, too.  He told me people called him a card shark just because he was good at cards, and we spoke a little French.  We burned ruined books in a fireplace in one of the private rooms upstairs to stay warm, and we cuddled close, using thick window curtains as blankets.

And then after that, he tried to leave me, treating me as if we'd gained nothing over the course of a few days.  It was just a few days, yes, but I gained so much during that time.  We had sex, we kissed, we cuddled, and maybe none of that was normal, but Lucent wasn't normal, and now I didn't think I was, either.  Maybe I'd never been normal.  Maybe I was always like this.

So I went after him.  I tried to force him to acknowledge me, but he refused.  I didn't budge.  I stayed.  I applied for a job as his personal assistant, but he wouldn't interview me.  Still, I stayed there, sitting in his office all afternoon, until he left.  He thought I'd leave when he did, but I didn't.  I stayed overnight, and when he came back in the morning, he got quite a surprise.

That morning was the first time we went to Sam's Delicatessen, too.  My first pancake sandwich.  Lucent and I talked, really talked.  It didn't lead to much of anywhere.  We'd be friends, he said.  I remembered something I said to him then which made me laugh now.

"Well, are we good friends?  Close?  Can I cuddle with you?  Are we friends, um... with..."  I said the words again, reliving them in the emptiness of the Landseer Tower parking garage.

With what?
  That's what Lucent asked me back then.

I mouthed the next words, too afraid to say them aloud, too afraid of the memories I might unleash.  "With... benefits?  Can we have sex?"

He'd promptly denied me. 
No
, he said.

Despite my best attempts at stopping a rush of emotions from surging forth, they came anyways.  I shivered and shook in the cool evening air, alone in a dim parking garage, tears streaking down my cheeks.

I couldn't do this.  I couldn't just stand here any longer, remembering and worrying about the past.  That was so long ago, except it didn't seem like it.  I felt like Lucent and I had been trapped in the library during that blizzard for decades, maybe even centuries, even though it had only been days.  The six or so months we'd been together afterwards seemed like a few hours in comparison, not nearly long enough.  A few hours, yes, but filled with so much love and affection and tender care.  Of learning, and teasing, playful flirting, explored sexuality.

Of everything.  And now nothing.  The end.  My story was over.  Was this what I wanted to write?

Everyone stopped writing sometime, didn't they?  Stories ended, good or bad, and then the reader was left to imagine what happened next.  I wondered what they thought happened to me.  Did I leave them like this, with myself stranded here.  Did I leave them to worry and fret about my continued existence, or lack thereof.

It didn't matter what I left them to do.  I couldn't hope for anything of the same.  I had to live it, to breathe my own story, to be it, to overcome it.  I needed to move on, but I didn't know how.  I couldn't just stop.  This wasn't the end.

One step.  That's all it took.  Just one.

I walked with that thought in mind.  One step became two, then three, and a fourth.  They arrived slow and shambling, because I couldn't stop shaking and I couldn't stop crying, but the steps happened.  I walked towards the entrance of the parking garage.

Then I stopped.

Something moved.  I saw it.  I jerked my head to the side and blinked fast, but by the time I fully looked it was gone.  Nothing.  I listened.  Still nothing.

I kept walking.  The sounds of my shoes clicked against the smooth concrete floor, the noise of my footfalls bouncing through this corporate holding cage for cars.  I wouldn't be trapped here, I wouldn't stay stuck like that.

I heard my own footsteps, but I thought I heard more, too.  They tried to mimic mine, following me like a shadow.  I stepped, they stepped.  I moved, and they did, too.

Abrupt, I stopped.  I heard another step after that, but not one that I made.  Panic ripped through my body, fear searching for a scream deep inside my throat, but I couldn't move or say anything.

One step.  That's all it took.  Just one.

I tried to think only of that, tried to use the thought to calm my mind.  It didn't really work.  I ended up running through the parking garage to the front entrance as best I could.  Thankfully I was almost there, so I didn't have to run far.  As soon as I made it into the night air and the city outdoors, I breathed easier.

I wasn't safe, but I was safer.  If someone was following me, lurking in the shadows nearby, it was only a matter of time before...

I preferred not to think about it.  I preferred not to think of anything.  I didn't know where I was going, or what I was doing, but I joined the evening crowds on the street, walking to some unknown destination.

I had my purse now.  I could go anywhere.  I could take a cab or the subway back to my apartment.  Or... not.  If I did that, I was putting Vanessa at risk.

The library?  It was still open, though.  I couldn't hide out there for the night like I'd done before, at least not yet.  I didn't feel right about doing that, anyways.  I didn't want to cause undue stress to Rob or anyone else who worked or visited there.

Maybe I should get a hotel room?  Oh, yes, great idea, Elise.  I mentally berated myself, because going to a hotel was the worst idea in the history of everything.  If the police were out looking for me and Lucent, and I just walked in and flashed my license to the front desk before getting a room, I was pretty sure I'd be arrested within the hour.

And then what?  I didn't know how to deal with situations like that.  I didn't know how to deal with this situation, either.

I walked away from everything I knew, finding solace in the unknown.  I clutched my purse tight, holding it awkwardly in my hands, unsure what to do with it.  Just keep walking, keep going.

I looked backwards and saw something.  Someone.  Yes, well, I was walking in the middle of the city.  What should I expect?  There should be a lot of someones.

This person looked strange to me, though.  My imagination ran rampant and I concocted figments and fantasies in my head.  They were coming after me, weren't they?  They were the shadow I saw in the parking garage, the mimed footsteps behind mine.  My stalker, my follower, my...

No.  I turned down a side street as soon as I could and then kept going, walking faster and faster.  I probably looked like a crazy person, but I didn't care.

I needed something.  I didn't know what.  I wanted to cry.  More.  I couldn't cry, not even a little.  I was, though.  I couldn't stop now, no matter what I thought or what I wanted.

I needed...

I clutched my purse in one hand while I fished through it, looking for my phone.  I found it, nearly spilling everything else I had in the process.  Somehow I managed not to do that, though.  I flung my purse over my shoulder and pressed buttons on my phone.  It didn't matter which buttons; I didn't know which buttons I wanted to push.  I unlocked the keyguard randomly, then went into my contacts menu.

Against all of my better judgment, I scrolled through my list of family and friends, then dialed Jessika Landseer's number.

She knew about me and Lucent.  She understood.  Right?  I hoped so.  I thought I could talk to her more than I could talk to anyone, because she knew Lucent, too.  She...

The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up.  I thought about giving up, putting it back in my purse.  I looked over my shoulder, angry and frightened, and saw the same person from before.  Were they following me?  No one else was walking on this street except us.  I didn't even know where I was.

The phone stopped ringing.  I heard breathing on the other end.

I started talking before Jessika could say anything.  If anyone interrupted me, I thought I'd lose myself and everything else, too.

"Jessika," I said, pushing back tears, wanting to explain.  "I can't do this.  I can't do it anymore."  Where did that come from?  From... "Lucent is... I don't know.  I don't know why this happened.  I didn't even..."

Everything I wanted to hold in came rushing forth again and I started to cry uncontrollably into the phone.  The tears on my cheek spread to the edge of the phone, leaving it cold and damp, pressed against the side of my face.

"Elise, what's wrong?" Jessika said.  "What do you mean?  What happened to Lucent?  Where are you?  Are you safe?  Do you need help?  Are you alright?"

Safe?  No, probably not.  "No" was likely an extreme understatement, too.  I looked over my shoulder again through a fit of tears, but I couldn't see the man anymore.  Maybe I was safe.  Safer.  I couldn't be safe, though.  Lucent had made sure of it.  He always promised to protect me, but then he didn't.  He did the opposite.

"I thought—" I started to say, but I needed time to think.  I hesitated, starting over again.  "I thought we were more.  I don't know why.  I'm not.  He's more and I'm nothing.  I'm not what he wants.  I can't be."  I could never be, I thought.  I wasn't Elle.  I was nothing like her.  "I thought I was or I could be but I'm not and I understand that now but it still hurts so much.  I just wish—"

No more.  No more thoughts, no more tears.  I wanted to stop, just stop, so I did.  I stood there on the sidewalk, crying into the phone, no longer speaking.

"Where are you?  We can get you," Jessika said, her voice filled with worry and concern.  "We'll come find you, alright?"

I didn't want her to worry.  I didn't want her to be concerned for me.  I just... I needed someone, but I didn't know how to tell her or how to say it.  It felt so hard, like the words were stuck in my throat, glued there, a constant reminder of my inadequacy.  For whatever reason, I felt even worse after what Elle told me, too.  I thought she said it as a nice thing, but hearing I was good at hurting her?  Knowing I wasn't anything like the submissive woman Lucent liked?  I was the opposite.  He couldn't love me.  He would never love me.

What did I even want from him?  Love?  Affection?  Sex?  Lust?  Friendship?

I wanted everything.  I wanted all of him.  I wanted to dominate his emotions and spank them, punish them, hurt them if he didn't do as I liked.

"You can't!" I screamed into the phone.  She couldn't come for me.  She couldn't do anything for me.  I wanted and needed too much.  It was impossible for anyone to give it to me.

A car rushed past me.  Startled and shocked, I jumped and turned towards it.  It drove away, oblivious to my fear.  Behind it, I saw that man again, my stalker.  He wasn't moving now, though.  He just stood there, nodding his head slowly to the beat of silent music, to nothing, staring across the street.

"Fuck you!" I shouted.

I didn't know whether I was yelling at the car that scared me or the man I thought was following me.  I supposed it didn't really matter.

Finally, I managed to say something coherent, to put a voice to my thoughts and my feelings.  "You have your own problems," I said, sniffling away tears.  "I know that.  I have mine, too.  We all have problems, you know?  I don't know why I called you.  I didn't know who else to call.  I can't call anyone.  I don't have anyone.  I can't go home.  I want to go back to my apartment and see Vanessa and just sit on the couch and..."  I felt like a foolish, immature teenager for thinking this, but I said it anyways.  "And eat ice cream.  That sounds stupid, doesn't it?  I sound so dumb right now."