Chapter 64 66

Chapter 64 66
LARA PARKER.
I left the funeral once the others started dispersing, deeming my work done. But my consciousness still was not clear, the guilt gnawing at me despite knowing I had no hand in this personally.
So, instead of going back to Killian’s apartment as I had promised him I would, I ended up going to the last place I wanted to be. My apartment.
I had planned on taking a cab initially to the funeral, but Killian gave me the key to his sportscar for me to take. I had no better option really, my mess of a car is still in my apartment parking lot rotting away—which I made a mental note to pick-- so it was easy for me to move from the funeral to my apartment.
I parked the car in the underground parking lot, then took the elevator up to the floor where my apartment is. The moment I stepped foot in the hallway, it all suddenly came back to me, and I started to feel suffocated. Still, I pushed through it, and with shaky legs, pushed myself forward towards where my door was.
My hand was shaky when I lifted it to take a hold of the handle, swiping the card against it. It opened with a beep, and I mentally braced myself before swallowing a lump and pushing the door open. I could swear that I can hear my heart pounding against my ribcage when I pushed the door open, holding my breath.
My mind replayed Dixie’s body hanging in the middle of the room in my head repeatedly, and yet, when I lifted my eyes up, I was met with total darkness. The lights were turned off and the blinds were drawn in, and the only source of brightness was from the corridor where I am standing.
The pungent scent of blood from back then was gone, but it was still in my head. I could still remember the stench as I carried my feet into the apartment, leaving the door open behind me. I made it to the middle of the room, and the suffocating feeling only increased to the point that it felt almost like the world was spinning beneath my feet.
I rushed to the window, pulling open the blinds and opening up the windows so fresh air and light could flood in. I did the same with all the windows, not stopping until they were all opened and fresh air had filled my lungs, flushing out the mental stench.
I have no idea how many minutes I remained standing by the windows, but when I turned around, I reached out to remove the cap on my head and throw it onto the couch. I had left the glasses in the car. Tilting my head up, I stared at the small chandelier in the living room where the body was hung, and honestly, I had thought it was damaged beyond repair, but it was perfectly in place.
Just like everything else in the house, like no one had been here. Whoever Killian had assigned with the task of cleaning this place up, they did a pretty damn good thing.
It is just sad that they could not clean my mind off it.
My knees became weak, and I found myself slumping and sitting on the floor. Pulling my knees to my chest, I leaned my back against the wall and closed my eyes, simply remaining in that position.
My mind replayed everything that had happened in this very apartment—my life with my parents, their deaths, my life afterwards leading up to what happened two weeks ago with Dixie. And suddenly, I found myself wondering if everything I had worked hard for just to get the place to myself is worth it now that I have it because I cannot picture myself continuing to live here.
I had lost track of time, but after a long while when I finally got a bit of strength, I decided to do what brought me here in the first place. I made my way over to my bedroom and pulled out another suitcase, packing more clothes that I will stay with at Killian’s for the next few days until I find the suitable house to move into.
Just as I was almost done packing up, about to zip the suitcase close, a sound came form the living room making me still. My shoulders tensed, my head turning in the direction of the living room. I could not see anything as the door was closed, but I am certain I did hear movements reminding me that I left the front door opened.
Fuck.
With baited breath, I quickly looked around to see if I could find any defense object, mentally cursing myself for leaving my phone in the car. My gaze fell on a golf club near the door, and I got on my feet, making my way over to it. Taking it, I gripped it firmly then carefully opened the door, careful not to make a sound.
My eyes caught sight of a figure by the window, his back towards me but the frame looked familiar in the black suit. I had a guess but I held onto the golf club even more, pulling the door open as I stepped out.
With narrowed eyes at his figure, the question slipped past my lips. “What are you doing here?” My tone was cold, and I did not regret it in the slightest.
He turned around, and just as I had expected he was the one. His eyes found mine, giving me a onceover, before straying to the object in my hand. “So defensive.” He mumbled, though I am sure he did it loud enough for me to hear. His eyes found mine again, his lips set into a thin line when he added. “You were at the service.” It was not a question, but a statement.
I remained where I was standing, my grip on the golf club never loosening. “And do?” I arched a brow. “What are you doing here, Caleb?”
His hand slipped into the pocket of his pants, his words smooth when he responded. “I am here to see you of course.” His expression remained unwavering, his eyes never leaving mine when he added. “I missed you, Lara. I miss us. I want you back.”
What the actual hell?