Page 104 of The Ripper

GRIMM

My phone buzzed on the table, face down.

Damiano grinned at me from his seat to my left, thinking it was another text message from Arella.

Our fathers were having a scintillating conversation about some weapon shipments that were about to arrive, planning every detail, but I only understood half of what they were saying because my brain was mostly focused on the beautiful woman who was taking over my apartment with her colorful things, and I was sure the Italian asshole next to me understood even less, but alas, we were stuck in business while we both wished we were somewhere else.

I wished this whole thing would be over quicker so I could go back to her, and Damiano I honestly didn’t give two flying fucks what he wished for.

I suddenly went deaf when I flipped the phone over and instead of a text, I saw an alert about a fire in my building.

The monster grinned.

I got up from the chair so quickly that it squeaked on the floor before falling backwards and hitting the wood, a loud thud echoing in the room. It felt as though the earth was splitting beneath my feet, slowly swallowing me into the void without giving me a chance to defend myself.

My heart began to pound in my ears.

~ This can’t be happening.

In the next second, all six heads in the room turned towards me, but I couldn’t find the words to tell them why I was reacting like this. I looked at my father for help, hoping he could see the despair on my face, but all he did was scowl and silently scold me for interrupting their important affairs.

“I have to go,” I said frantically, running my fingers through my hair and turning towards the door, biting down on my knuckles.

“What’s going on?” Damiano asked, standing up as well, far too elegantly.

~ Stop pretending you give a shit, motherfucker.

I shook my head and stormed out of the room, heading for the stairs while calling Arella.

Ring.

“Come on, baby, pick up,” I begged.

Panic.

I wasn’t a believer.

I never believed that there was a bearded man in the sky who was playing with us like we were puppets on a string, but at that moment, I prayed to every god known to mankind.

I prayed that it was really just a fire, and she was safe.

Ring.

I prayed that my worst and only fear would not come true.

Ring.

I prayed that it was just a nightmare, that I would wake up soon and she would be right there, in my arms, making those little muffled noises she made when she was fast asleep.

Ring.

“Pick up the phone,” I whispered to myself as I ran down the stairs.

Ring.

“Fucking fuck,” I punched the wall next to the exit, before kicking the door open and finding myself outside, waiting for the pain to ground me, hoping it would release some of the tension, but it didn’t.

Voicemail.

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