Chapter 44 Don't Leave Me

Chapter 44 Don't Leave Me
Shenell's POV

Every instinct in my body screamed that this wasn’t normal and it made fear coil in my chest like something dangerous was right behind me, about to chop my head off.

I barely breathed as I turned around to go back into the room, but just as I was about to walk away, the phone suddenly rang again.

A second piercing chime that made my already pounding heart to jump.

I turned around slowly, spotting the phone resting on the couch.

My eyes widened as the screen lit up, showing the caller ID: “VVIP Clients.”

It made my heart to thud even harder, causing a shiver to suddenly run down my spine.

The name flashed again, cold and official, making my stomach twist into knots.

I can't remember Vincent telling me anything about having clients he works for.

The last time we'd a conversation about his job. He inl6 told me he quit being a bartender at the bar where we'd met on the first nigh.

I didn't bother asking him about his new job.

This realization made me want to think that I actually might have not known anything about this man I'm suddenly staying at his place.

What if he's not what I'm thinking?

I shook my head sharply, snapping out of the crazy thoughts that were about to flood my mind.

Yet the caller ID on the phone’s screen still instilled the same fear in me, and I didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it.

I wanted to ignore it.

I wanted to pretend I didn't even notice the phone ring, to shot my eyes close and walk away like I was never here.

But curiosity, fear, and an uneasy pull of dread made me pick it up. I bet over and grabbed the phone from the couch and my hand trembled as I held it tightly in my hand.

For a split second, I didn't do anything, I just kept staring at the screw like it could somehow explain everything.

My pulse was hammering, and the cold sweat on my neck made my goosebumps rise.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the answer button, while my lips pressed tightly together.

I just wanted to pick the call and maybe tell the caller that Vincent wasn’t home, that maybe he could call back later.

But the second I picked the call and efore I could even find my words, a cold, sharp voice had suddenly cut through the line;

“I thought I told you not to leave a trace behind. You made a mess of this job, and I need you to clean every single sign of evidence, or I’ll have to ask someone else to do this.” The words landed in my ear like a heavy stone in my chest.

Fear gripped me in a tight fist and my knees buckled slightly,

I slowly lowered the phone from my ear and realised the the caller was still on, but he wasn't saying anything anymore. Maybe he was done speaking.

But I don't even know what to call that—a threat or warning.

I almost could have asked him who the hell he was and why will he have to speak to somebody in that manner.

That's scary.

After a few seconds , the finally ended. He ended it.

So I dropped the phone from my ears without thinking.

The cold hardwood beneath my hand didn’t help.

My breath came in short, shaky gasps and I couldn’t understand a word of it fully, but the tone, the urgency, the sharp edge of command told me one thing clearly: this wasn’t good. Not good at all. Not in the slightest.

Something dangerous, something dark, was happening, and I was smack in the middle of it without even knowing how.

My legs suddenly felt weak as if I might slump down anytime soon, so I slowly, carefully backed away from the couch, my body trembling uncontrollably.

My hands started to shake even more.

And my breathing came in rough fragmented burst, causing my eyes to dart around the room as if something invisible might jump out at me any second.

I dropped the phone back on the couch, and it lay there, silently mocking me, even though I knew I might have made a big mistake picking up the call in the first place.

At the same time, it made me want to question what Vincent was really into—or who exactly he was.

My mind was screaming for help, fit answers, but nothing close to that was happening.

“What did I just hear?” The voice in my head suddenly whispered.

Every instinct in me screamed to run, hide, escape, anything, but my legs felt like they were glued to the floor.

The calm I'd tried to keep after that crazy nightmare, and after yesterday’s horrors had suddenly shattered into a thousand pieces.

Now I think I'm eventually going crazy.

“No… no… this isn’t good. This is not… good.” I kept whispering to myself, almost as if saying it loud ould put me in trouble.

My entire body shook, and a cold wave of terror suddenly rolled down my spine, now making me feel like I'm at the pick of it and was about to drop from a very tall height.

I'd no answers, no plan, no idea what to do next,but just a clean map of how my fears could successfully kill me

I stepped away from the living room and retreated to the bedroom. Collapsing onto the bed, I sank into the mattress’s softness, letting my eyes wander over the perfectly drafted lines embedded across the ceiling.

Multiple thoughts were running through my mind, but I couldn’t hold onto a single one long enough to think clearly.

It was just chaos inside my head.

Then, I realized I was missing him—Vincent.

If he were here right now, I wouldn’t be feeling like this.

He could have, one way or another, helped me get through this.

I know I shouldn’t feel unsafe around the same man who brought me to safety.

If there’s anyone who has been there for me since the beginning of all this, it’s Vincent. It feels only unfair to think badly of him now.

I love him and I hate it when he steps out without informing me.

Everybody in my life has left so stepping out without informing me will only make me think he's also leaving me.

I think I love Vincent after all.

I want his hands on me right now.