Return to the unknown

*****DAMIAN*****

The waiter placed our dishes in front of us, steaming bowls of rice, spicy-smelling meat and crispy vegetables that would normally make each of us salivate. But tonight was different. The food sat untouched in front of us as we were lost in our thoughts.

The silence at the table was heavy and oppressive, interrupted only by the occasional sounds of the restaurant – clinking glasses, muffled conversations, the monotonous whirring of a fan.

It was Celine who finally broke the silence. Of course it was Celine. She had always been the one to keep a clear head in such moments. Her calm voice cut through the tension like a knife through glass.

“Listen,” she began, laying her hands on the table. Her eyes wandered from Jax to Yasemin and then to me. ”If Marie is really planning something, then we shouldn't be separated. I think Yasemin and Jax should stay with us. At least until we know what Marie is up to.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and I could feel Jax struggling with himself inside. He wasn't the type to accept protection, especially not from me. His whole posture expressed reluctance, but I knew he understood what Celine meant.

“That might sound reasonable,“ Yasemin said quietly. She played nervously with her napkin, her eyes searching Jax', but he was still staring at his plate.

“I don't need a babysitter,” Jax finally murmured, pushing his plate away. “If Marie wants to make trouble, let her come. I can take care of myself.”

“This isn't just about you, Jax,” Celine said with a firmness that never ceased to amaze me. ”This affects all of us. If Marie and Carter are really after Damian, then you're just as much a target as he is.”

“And why exactly?” Jax leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Because we kicked her out back then? You think she's still mad after all these years?”

“Yes,’ I said sharply, looking him straight in the eye. ”That's exactly what I think. You know Marie. She's not the type to forget. And she's definitely not the type to forgive.”

An uncomfortable silence spread. Jax stared at me, his look challenging, but I didn't let myself be deterred. We had decided to get rid of Marie back then, and it had been the right decision. But now we had to live with the consequences.

“Celine's right,” I finally said, looking from Jax to Yasemin. ‘You two should stay with us. At least for a while. It's safer when we're together.”

“And how long is that supposed to be?’ Jax asked, his tone cutting. ‘Until we know what she wants? That could take weeks.”

“Or days,’ Celine said calmly. “Maybe even just hours. But as long as we don't know what her plan is, we should be prepared.”

The waiter came by again to check on us, but none of us had eaten a bite. We just waved him away, and I could see that he wondered what was wrong with us. We probably looked like a group that had just suffered a great loss.

“Jax,” Yasemin began cautiously, putting her hand on his arm. ”Maybe we should listen to her. It's only temporary. And it would be... better if we weren't alone.”

He looked at her, his expression softening, and I knew he would agree in the end. Yasemin had that effect on him – she could calm him when no one else could.

“Okay,” he finally said with a resigned sigh. ‘But only because I don't want Yasemin to worry. It doesn't mean I'm afraid of Marie.”

“Of course not,’ I said dryly, pushing my plate aside as well. ”But this is not a fight we should fight alone.”

Celine leaned back slightly, and I could see the tension in her shoulders ease. She had once again brought the situation under control, and I was grateful to her for that. Without her, our little “family,” as we often jokingly called ourselves, would probably have fallen apart long ago.

“Good,” she finally said. ”Then we should sort out everything we need tomorrow. You pack a few things and come to our place.”

“And what do we do if Marie is really planning something?” Yasemin asked quietly. ‘I mean, what if she finds us?”

“Then we'll be ready,’ I said, and my voice was firmer than I felt. ”Marie may be dangerous, but she's not invincible. We've stopped her before, and we can do it again.”

The drive home was quiet. Jax and Yasemin were driving right behind us, and I could see the headlights of their car in the rearview mirror. Celine was sitting next to me, gazing out the window. I knew she was thinking, and I also knew that she was probably more afraid than she wanted to admit.

“Celine,“ I finally said, glancing at her. ‘You know we'll make it, right?”

She turned to me and a weak smile appeared on her lips. ’I know. But that doesn't mean I'm not worried.”

“Me neither,” I admitted. “But we're together. And that matters.”

When we arrived home, we sat down in the living room while Jax and Yasemin fetched their things from the car. It felt strange to have them here – like a déjà vu from the days when we were all ganging up on Marie. But back then, we were sure that we had gotten rid of her. Now that certainty was gone.

I looked at Celine, who had just thrown a blanket over the couch, moved with a quiet efficiency that was so uniquely her. She had always been the one who kept us grounded. She was, undeniably, the heart of our little family, and in that moment, I felt the weight of how much I needed her—perhaps more than ever before.

Yet, even as her quiet presence provided a fragile sense of reassurance, my mind churned with unanswered questions. What exactly was Marie planning? The thought of her left a chill in the air, a reminder of how quickly things could turn. How long did we have before she made her move? And would we be ready when she did?

The night stretched on, heavy with an eerie silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The moon, though high in the sky, seemed dim, its light muted by thick, shifting clouds that loomed like specters over the city. The kind of night where shadows seemed alive, where every creak of the house felt like a warning. I found myself in the living room, alone, staring at the untouched bottle of beer in front of me. Its cold condensation mirrored the unease that had settled deep in my chest. The screen of my cell phone lay dark on the coffee table, a stubborn silence that only added to the tension.

Celine had gone upstairs to gather a few things, and in her absence, the quiet wrapped itself around me like a suffocating fog. I tried to use the solitude to organize my thoughts, to make sense of the storm swirling in my head. But clarity seemed elusive, and my nerves felt as frayed as the edges of the blanket on the couch.

Then it happened—a single, sharp vibration from the cell phone. Just one brief buzz, but in the oppressive silence, it felt like a thunderclap. My heart leaped, a sudden surge of adrenaline sharpening my senses. Without hesitation, my hand shot out to grab the phone.

What I saw on the screen made my breath catch in my throat. The world seemed to tilt, the quiet shattered by the implications of that message.