18+ | Eva French relocates from sunny Florida to the gritty streets of Detroit, seeking a fresh start. But her new beginning takes a dark turn when she experiences a traumatic assault on her very first night in the city. Haunted by the incident, Eva...
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Vince Matthews
I awoke abruptly, my senses immediately assaulted by the claustrophobic grip of my blanket, which had wound itself tightly around me while I slept. Its weight pressed down on me, constricting me in a tight cocoon. It was not one of those pleasant naps where you wake up feeling refreshed and energized. Instead, I found myself clammy and overheated, feeling suffocated despite having slept shirtless and with the window cracked open.
It was also not one of those naps where you wake up at a reasonable time, with plenty of daylight left to be productive. Reluctantly, I pried one eye open while keeping the other shut, peering outside the window only to be met by darkness. Once again, I had slept through the entire afternoon, missed dinner, and squandered any chance of redeeming the day and being less of a fucking loser. I had slumped on the couch immediately after work, dozing off almost as soon as I closed my eyes.
Desperate for air, I fought against the grip of the heavy fabric, twisting and turning until I finally broke free, rolling onto my side. The cool rush of air against my back brought immediate relief, gradually dispelling the stifling heat of my sleep.
The sound of crickets seeped through the window, their incessant chirping as a mocking reminder of yet another day wasted. The scent of barbecue drifted in, mingling with the distant laughter of neighbors enjoying a late-night dinner in the mild weather. My stomach rumbled in protest.
Grudgingly, I hauled myself up from the couch, my limbs feeling heavy with exhaustion as I shuffled over to the fridge. I swung open the door and peered into the barren depths of the freezer, the cold air another welcome relief against my overheated skin. My gaze lingered vacantly on the sparse contents within, until my hand mechanically reached out and snatched the only option available. I tore open the box with a sense of resignation, placing the pizza in the oven, the promise of a mediocre meal awaiting me.
Amidst my mundane task, the intrusive glow of Lea's name illuminated my phone screen, interrupting my momentary focus on the sorry excuse for dinner in front of me. Emitting a low groan of annoyance, I hesitated, contemplating whether to ignore the call or accept it. I chose the latter only because it was getting late— probably best not to ignore her call in case anything was wrong. I swiped to accept, bringing the phone to my ear.
"I'm busy, Lea," I said, my voice still thick with sleep.
But it wasn't Lea's voice on the other end. Suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head, I was fully awake and alert.
"That's not very nice. What kind of hello is that!?" Eva's voice broke through the silence, laced with the unmistakable slur of alcohol. It had been three weeks since I last heard her voice, and never before had I heard her in such a state. I parted my lips to respond, but she charged on before I could utter a word.
"I'm busy Lea," she drawled, dropping the register of her voice so low that it came out as a wheeze. "Jeez! I'm surprised you aren't listed as dickhead number four!"
