“That’s okay, I’ll wait to walk out with you.”
He hesitates, clearly not expecting my response. He rubs his hand through his beard, taking in a deep breath.
“No, I said I’ll be right there,” he says once more, except this time, he isn’t even looking at me. Instead, he has his attention directed at his phone as he swipes to message someone.
Bored of this standoff Eric and I have found ourselves in, I decide to give up and just head to the car. As much as I am loving the scent of Carmine that his clothes are drenched in permeating my senses, a glass of merlot and a bubble bath are calling my name right now to end this eventful evening.
“Alright, Eric,” I finally oblige as I go to walk through the dark hall and to the front door. I look back to see if Eric decided to follow me out, but all I see is an empty hallway and the dim light coming from the study, as I exit the brownstone.
I press the button of the key fob, unlocking the car, and slip into the backseat. Not even two minutes later, Eric scurries out of the brownstone and, at first glance, it looks like he is talking to himself. I inch toward the car window to see what he is doing, when I notice the white earbuds in his ear. Whoever he is talking to has him a bit more animated than usual. I also can’t help but notice how tense he looks.
Curious as to who the hell he is talking to, I try to discreetly lower the window just a crack to hear what is going on. Despite the noisy cars that pass by and the groups of trick-or-treaters still making their rounds, I am close enough to make out some of what Eric is saying.
“I have to drive her back. Just be quick,” I hear him mutter as he approaches the car. He looks up and at the back passenger window. I panic, even though I know he can’t see me with the tinted windows, but the cracked window, well, that he can see clearly. I wait until he walks in front of the car to get in to raise the window on the off chance he didn’t notice.
I settle back in the seat with my heart racing, but I try to play it cool. He opens the door and slams it shut, not saying a word to me. I look forward and see his Beetlejuice tattoo as he reaches for the radio, turning on some 80’s rock station. He looks in the rearview mirror and catches me looking at him. Instead of saying anything, he raises the volume slightly. I can see his mouth still moving. So, clearly, whatever conversation he is having, he doesn’t want me to hear. He moves his lips a few moments more before ripping the earbuds out of his ears, throwing them onto the empty passenger seat.
I jolt forward as Eric slams on the gas, driving us into the busy city streets. I’m relieved he is in no mood to talk, because truthfully, neither am I.
As I cross my legs, I feel the dampness between them still, which makes me feel cold. I turn the knob on the backseat heat to warm me, when I see my phone light up with three missed messages, all from Nessa.
“We need to talk.”
“Don’t ignore me, I know you are at his place.”
“When will you be home? Girl, we need to talk.”
I need to text her back and let her know I am on my way home. I love how protective of a friend Nessa has always been, it’s one of her best traits. Her fierce loyalty and protective nature, it’s what makes her such a good cop. Well, now, detective. However, now that she knows I not only work for Carmine, but I spent time alone with him, she is going to be extra protective.
I text Nes back, letting her know that I will be home soon, and that Eric is driving me back. I toss my phone back in my purse so I can just close my eyes and ground myself a bit more before getting home.
I feel the car swerve, waking me from my attempted rest, when I try to see what the hell Eric is doing. I see he has one hand on the wheel and the other is down, texting feverishly.
“Hey! Quit it, you’re going to get us killed!” I shout over the music.
He doesn’t respond, but he throws his phone down on the floor of the car in anger.
I roll my eyes and sit back in my seat, not knowing what has gotten into him tonight.
We finally pull up to the apartment and I am crawling in my skin to get out of this damn car. I barely allow the car to come to a complete stop before I am trying to open the door handle. But the second I go to lift the handle, the music stops, as the locks click. Unable to lift the lock, I move forward in my seat and tap Eric on the shoulder. “Let me out, Eric, I’m tired and I want to go home.”
He doesn’t say anything, and still, the door remains locked. I move the handle back and forth in anger, even though I know it’s useless, it won’t open until he unlocks it.
“Let me out, now,” I demand.
He reaches his hand to the back headrest of the passenger seat to adjust his gaze on me.
“Eric, stop, you are scaring me,” I plead.
“You should be scared, but not of me,” he says, unconvincingly.
“And how is that? You are acting like an irrational, jealous—”
He cuts me off. “Jealous what, Sienna? I would choose my words wisely if I were you,” he warns.
Throwing my hands up in the air, wanting to just forfeit this conversation with him, I settle myself back in my seat and wait for whenever the fuck he decides to open the damn door. He can’t keep me hostage here all night.I hope.
He sighs in disappointment, as if he was looking forward to whatever smart-ass remark, he thought I had for him. Ordinarily, I thrive on back-and-forth banter like this, but now, I am just tired. I’m also freezing because Carmine’s suit, while comfortable, does absolutely nothing to keep me warm.
