Book #2 of Girl of Mine ✑
1957. It's the things you thought were yours. It's the lack of control and how you ought to make the most of what you have. Love for yourself or passed loves. There isn't a way to take hold of carried feelings, the actions...
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* chapter music * — Rain Sound Effect - Royalty Free Sound Effects ( No copyright ) — Surra Budhayana Find their work through YouTube
Important: Surya Budhayana is the rightful owner of this soundtrack. The link added in the header is simply an embedded link to their YouTube video and channel. I do not own this sound, but it is royalty-free.
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Elvis POV
The 20th of August, 1957.
«Wha.. Why didn't you tell me earlier, Red? We have no idea where she is!» The burning in my chest came from deep down in the basement of my body. My temples had an incoming icy pain as I felt threatened by the unknown.
Sal was supposed to be home over an hour ago. She was to be in bed by now as the clock struck a quarter past midnight—or at least sharing a cup of something with me and my Ma in the kitchen. Getting the notice of an hour 'til she would be here, Mama, Daddy, and Red—all stayed up with me to welcome Sal back home.
«I didn't want to worry you.» Red stood with his hand to his chin and lips, holding onto his raised elbow—supporting it. His brows were sharp and bowed, his cheeks sucked in. Moonlight cast down on us from high-placed windows, standing like poles in the big white and grey foyer.
The dining room slept in complete darkness behind me, having said goodbye to daylight long ago. My palm fell against the arch post near the stairs leading up to the second floor—making the shut-off chandelier crystals clink together. «God dammit, man, I'm no wimp.»
«E.,» Red said shortly—trying to get me to calm down.
Letting the arch go, I strode past him—standing in the open space right about in the middle of the foyer. To the right of the door, the coat stand was the home of my leather jacket. The same one Sal wore a year ago and the same one I intended to fold her cold midnight shoulders in— tonight, as I led her home. There was no other option.
Easily snagging it, I put it on to get some warmth into it as I went through the doors with quickening steps down the stairs while my hand flew through my jet-black locks, long overdue for a haircut. Grasshoppers made ticking sounds, and the occasional owl or nightbird took over sensations around me. Blue, almost black sky towered above me with the sound of cold wind blowing through dry leaves. A hot summer had taken its toll on the greens of this year.
We had iron outdoor ground spotlights that led you through the paths of Graceland installed last week—preparing for our first season of dark nights and darkening afternoons. The pavement lit up in grey and yellow, with a few drops of rain making an uneven pattern. Determined, I made my way to the beige Cadillac—not too obvious for being my car out and about, but bright enough for Sal to recognize if I drove past her.
