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CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
After the paint shop, I decided to go to the park. It was one of the few spots that I loved in New York. Sure, it was starting to get dark, but I didn’t care. Sitting on a bench in the park was peaceful. I liked watching all the people. I knew it wasn’t necessarily the truth, but I imagined that they were happy. Odds were that they were happier than me.
Somehow, my life was in shambles. A few weeks ago, I’d felt happiness. There was even a part of me that was willing to put the pain of the past and move on—as much as I could.
A tear fell down my cheek as I thought about what it felt like being with Eli. In so many ways, it had been easy.
Sighing, I played with the edge of my sketchbook.
I’d stormed out of the Blanchi home with no plan, and now, I wondered if that was a mistake. Maybe there was a reason my father believed that the cartel was responsible for the massacre at my home. I hadn’t exactly given him the opportunity to explain.
Once more, my impulsiveness got the better of me.
I’d been out of the house for hours, and I wondered what was happening when I left. Though I’d wanted time alone, there was a small part of me that was upset that no one came after me. Not even Eli.
“Fuck them.” I swiped at the lone tear that was hanging off my chin and took charge of the anger that was simmering inside of me. “I’m done crying,” I muttered to myself. I probably looked insane sitting there crying, but I didn’t care.
A familiar voice drew my attention. “You know, you probably shouldn’t be sitting out here alone. It’s nearly dark.”
Immediately, my spine stiffened, and I felt my heart rate start to increase. “What are you doing here, Caleb?”
I kept my voice as even as possible, not wanting to tip Caleb off that something might be wrong. Not that it would be that odd. After all, he had assaulted me only the night before.
But my instincts told me to keep calm.
“I was hoping that I might be able to find you here.” He gave me that boyish smile that used to make me weak in the knees. Now, it made my stomach turn in revulsion.
“For a city of millions, you don’t seem to have too much trouble tracking me down.”
Last night, I’d thought about that. It felt like Caleb always knew where I was, and while it might be a coincidence, I also knew that he could be stalking me.
Caleb’s easy smile tightened just slightly. It was so small that I would have hardly noticed it. I only did because I knew Caleb so well. “Why do you have to be like that?” he asked.
“Like what?” I knew that I was playing with fire. Sure, maybe Caleb was innocent of killing my family. After all, I really had no proof. No one was going to arrest him simply because I thought I smelled his cologne, especially considering I’d been high as hell.
But last night taught me that there was a darkness inside of Caleb, and when he wanted something, there might not be any stopping him.
Caleb continued looking at me, and it took everything in me not to squirm under his gaze. His attentions used to flatter me, but now, I could see something sinister behind his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” The silence between us was getting to me, which was probably the point. But this game was starting to wear on me.
“I want you to come with me.”
I hadn’t expected that. “Come where?” I had zero intention of going anywhere with Caleb, but he didn’t need to know that.
Caleb’s easygoing smile turned to a complete frown. He released a heavy breath from between his lips and ran a hand through his hair. That hand was shaking, and for the first time since he’d taken a seat, I realized that Caleb was high.
“How many drugs have you taken?” I didn’t ask if he was on something. I knew the signs. Seeing them made me sad for Caleb. It was clear that he was an addict. Maybe he’d always been, or maybe, the last few months had caused him to take his usage to the next level.
The question made Caleb angry. He reached out and grabbed my bicep, squeezing the flesh painfully. “You are coming with me,” he said, jerking me to my feet. My sketchbook slid from my lap, making a loud thump as the hardcover hit the ground.
“Let me go!”
Night had descended, and the edge of the park I’d been at was mostly abandoned. Plus, this was New York City. No one was going to stick their nose into a domestic.
Caleb’s finger’s tightened, and I tried not to cry out at the feeling of his blunt nails digging into my skin. My thin sundress was not doing much to protect me, and my sandaled shoes weren’t allowing me to gain much traction as Caleb began dragging me out of the park.
“Are you seriously going to manhandle me out in the middle of Manhattan?” I asked. We would soon be out of the park, and onto busier streets. There was no way that he was going to be able to just drag me down the street. Even if no one got involved, there were bound to be police.
