Page 42 of A Lie so Dangerous and Fragile

I ran out of the elevator when it was about to close, feeling like the walls were closing on me. I walked quickly out of the building, my stomach twisting and body shaking. I bumped into Tristan. I stumbled back from the impact.

“Is someone chasing you?”

I looked up at Tristan, and he looked behind me and around the building, surveying for any danger.

“I can’t breathe, Tristan. I feel like I’m suffocating every second.” I turned away from him as I felt my eyes tear up. God, why was I crying? I felt pathetic.

“Chloe?” He touched my shoulder.

I shook my head, refusing to turn around. I hated looking so weak.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just feel like ramming my head through a wall right now,” I whimpered.

I wiped the tears away and faced him, putting on a tough face. His face looked tortured. He ran his palm down his face and tried to bottle up everything he was feeling. I hated myself for making him feel like this, for stealing his chance at being a father again. I wanted him to let it out, to take his anger out on me and tell me how I’d fucked up.

“I was about to come up to make sure you were okay,” he said, voice collected and soft.

“I can’t go in there. I don’t wanna be alone, especially with Vina gone.”

“You can stay at my place till all this is over,” he offered.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Do you need anything from your apartment?”

“Yeah, some clothes.”

The elevator ride was quiet, and my heart dropped when I opened the door to my apartment. The place was a mess; things were broken and turned upside down. I gasped, staring at what was left of my apartment. Vina’s live plants she’d been growing were on the floor with broken vases.

“Let’s get out of here.” Tristan grabbed my arm and took me with him to the elevator.

The ride to his house was accompanied by thick silence. Tristan walked beside me as we went into the house. Fear was consuming me slowly. Kayden was not safe. This person would come after me. What if I offered myself in place of Kayden? After all, I had created this mess.

My head was in great pain, and my body was sore from everything that was going on. I could feel my swollen eyes. I hadn’t slept in days. I climbed up the stairs, holding on to the railing. My head was banging rapidly. I paused on the stairs and groaned, holding the right side of my head.

“Are you okay?” Tristan grabbed my arm, scared I was about to collapse.

“It’s just my head.”

He took my left arm and helped me to the guest room. My old room. Everything was how I’d left it. Waves of nostalgia hit me. I lay on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to block out the memories of this place. Tristan returned later with some painkillers. I took both pills. He pulled the duvet up and sat next to me on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized in a low tone.

“Don’t worry about it. I have people looking.”

“I should be out, looking for him, not here,” I said and tried to stand up.

“Chloe”—he held me back—“you’re not well right now. Get some rest while I go with Morris to look around again.”

“You still remember his face.”

“It’s hard to forget. We’ll find him, I promise.” He gave me a soft smile.

“Please find him,” I whimpered.

“I will do everything I can. Try and get some sleep, okay?”

I nodded.

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