Page 65 of Call You Mine

Suddenly having a conversation with Larry is looking slightly more appealing than facing my tormentor.

2124173422: Looks like mommy isn’t as easy to get rid of as I was. Careful Snow, once a killer, always a killer. See you soon, carina. - E

My stomach sinks to my feet, paranoia getting the best of me as my eyes flicker back and forth across the room in desperation. Fear trickles down my spine, my jaw tightens, my body is vibrating in panic, and my bones feel like I’ve suddenly been turned into overcooked spaghetti.

He’s here, he’s watching me—or at least he has someone doing his dirty work to know that I just had a terrible conversation with my mother. My gaze flicks back to Larry who now looks incredibly more suspicious that he did just two minutes ago.

Fucking Larry. Is this his new puppet? The man now doing his dirty work for him? Seems implausible but then again, anything is possible with Enzo. I learned that the hard way. Though Larry takes my staring at him in a totally perverted way, insinuating I’m suddenly into this, which I’m not.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I reach for Jeremy, grab him by the arm and tug him toward me. “Jeremy will take care of your needs, Larry,” I say, hearing the man mutter his name is Fausto, before I disappear into the restroom.

The restroom is of course just as beautiful as the rest of the place, but right now, all I can see are blurry patterns on the tiles along the wall. I gape at my reflection in the large mirrors hung up on the wall above the sinks watching as my bloodshot eyes reflect the fear and panic coursing through me.

Turning on the faucet, I splash my face with water, quickly grabbing a paper towel to dry it when I hear someone come in. I jump, jolting back as I turn around to face them, my ass hitting the sink making me squeal in pain.

“Fuck,” I squeal, when I realize it’s only Jade and not Fausto or Enzo who’ve come after me.

Jade watches me quizzically, worry etched into the corners of her eyes. “Wyn, is everything okay? I saw you run in here...”

“Yup, I’m fine,” I mutter, interrupting her. “Just felt a little warm. Think I might come down with something, yeah that’s it. I’m getting sick. I’ll have to take that break after all.” I lie through my teeth, but it’s the only thing I can think of saying without completely losing my shit.

“Yeah of course, are you sure you’re okay? Was it that pervy old man at the bar? I can get Big Sal to take him out if he’s harassing you.”

“No, it’s fine, I don’t need Big Sal kicking anyone else out on my account. I would monitor him though, he seems like a total creep, but I’m just not feeling so great.”

“Okay, if you say you're fine, I’ll leave you alone. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off, Jeremy and I can handle it. Besides, Bass is here now. I'll have him jump behind the bar if it gets too busy.”

“Thanks Jade, I think I will head out. Maybe get some sleep.”

I move around her to walk out of the restroom before she asks any more questions, but before I exit, her hand comes up to my shoulder once more. “Just so you know, Wyn, you can come to me if you ever need to talk. I know we haven’t had the best relationship in the past, or frankly any kind of friendship. Honestly, I used to believe you were a total bitch,” she laughs and I can’t help but join her.

“To be fair, I kind of was. Not saying I’m not anymore, but the last few years have sure humbled me.”

Isn’t that the truth? So much for being untouchable and at the top of whatever social pyramid I claimed to rule over. Even the best of us can be taken down the bogus pedestals we’re placed on.

“And it’s not just because you’re Ace’s sister and he’s married to my sister, or because you’re dating one of my best friends,” Jade continues, “But I really feel like we could be friends if we gave it a chance. So I just want you to know you can come to me if you ever need to talk. I may not be open to discussing your sex life with Drake, but girl problem, I’m a pro at it.”

The mention of Damon and I having a sex life makes me wither away. If only.

The momentI left the bar, I honestly thought the feeling of dread that was overwhelming me would disappear but if anything it only grew stronger. Especially when I got into the Uber and tried calling Luke at the last number I had for him.

I needed to clear the air, needed him to assure me that Enzo was in fact dead and this was just someone, one of his men most likely, who was trying to play an awful trick on me. Payback for killing him or some other twisted game they liked to play. Though when Luke didn’t answer me, all of that dread and doubt I felt doubled, and my body threatened to give out on me. I need to sleep. That will help me center myself and allow me to come up with what my next move will be.

Everything I’m dealing with has become more than I can handle. Between Willa breathing down my neck to get her the money she requires getting out of my life, to Enzo’s threats and taunting along with the reminder of what I did. Not to mention this idiotic plan to get Damon to not only continue the ruse of being my fake boyfriend I started, but to actually convince him that this between us should be real. And now I can’t get a hold of Luke, the only other person who knows what happened to me back in New York.

I'm past the point of having a mental breakdown and there is only one person, one way in which I can find release. Only he can soothe the uncertainty within me, though right now he’s the one person I can’t go to. Damon’s been avoiding me, and after what happened earlier today between us by the pool, I know it’s hopeless to keep trying.

I didn’t bother changing when I got home from the bar and am lying down on my bed with my eyes closed, trying to calm myself though it’s no use. My heart is still racing, my limbs feel as if they’re vibrating and my mind is buzzing with unfiltered energy.

“Deep breaths Wynter,” I murmur to myself, trying to remember some meditation techniques I learned from the yoga instructor my mom was having an affair with when I was sixteen. It didn’t last long, she moved onto her Pilates instructor shortly after, but I remember hearing some of their sessions out in the garden when I was lying out by the pool with the girls.

I bring my knees up, the heels of my feet resting against my ass as my back arches off the bed. “Breathe with your belly, feel your thoughts flowing through your mind.” I’m startled when the door of my bedroom swings open.

The man standing under my doorway is a walking magazine ad, you know the ones you find in Vogue by Hugo Boss or Rolex—at least a somewhat disheveled version of it. He’s dressed in an incredibly tailored and expensive sleek black suit, his jacket swung over one shoulder, the top three buttons of his black dress shirt undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The tie in a dark gunmetal gray color hangs loose around his neck like he’s just finished a long day of work at the office, or having sex with someone in said office.

My stomach clenches as the reminder of what he does for “work” enters my already disheveled brain.

“Are you okay?” he asks, not bothering to enter the room, though his eyes do rake over my body and my awkward position on the bed.

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