Façade [Book 2] (Glamour Series)

19 | Careless Fate

Distance.

Now I craved it.

The length of a couple houses from them would be all I needed to open my tired lungs to breathe again.

My mother, the woman who sent me away over a half a year ago to train the 'beast' inside of me, and Ezra, who was my weird white-haired fiancé, stood on the Dead King's front steps. My mother was wearing her uniform, a star-badge, and a belt of weapons at her waist which winked up at my shocked, trembling body. My mother is a witch-police, an investigator of the supernatural.

Ezra looked rather displeased to be standing under the Dead King's mansion, but his eyes searched frantically around the lobby till his milky-white irises rose to connect with mine. His chest heaved once, his breath hitched, and his fingers twitched with urgency. It was as if he wanted to pluck me from my spot on the balcony, and kidnap me back to my old home.

I began deciding whether I would let him take me or not.

"Ms. Meyer." My mother announces herself, her voice hushed: "I'm hear to investigate the death of Mr. Reden."

She's not even here for me!

The thought surged, trudged, and raced through my guarded heart. My ribs caved in, my brain stuttering to fill in the pieces, and my eyes fluttered with great effort to make out shapes and colors. Splotches of purple and blue contaminated my vision, my fingers curl across the stairway balcony, and my knees buckle.

Through the wooden bars I can just barely make out Laurence's clenched fists and ragged handshake with my mother and Ezra. He wasn't exactly happy, and neither was I to be fully honest.

"Eris, hey, are you alright?"

My head swam, fighting invisible shock, as my mind pieced together mishaps of new information that it stammers to sequence together.

Two hands have hooked themselves under my arms, lifting my limping body to my shaken feet.

"She's not here for me." I whisper to Oliver as he settles me in his arms for a bear hug.

"Shh." He coos into my right ear: "she's here to help you."

"What do you mean?" I mumble into his blue-grey V-neck, my lips gently grazing his collarbone.

His hands play with the braid my hair was still in, then his fingers run through my scalp to calm me further. I relax into his sturdy form, unconsciously hoping Ezra noticed us standing so close together. "The people who...threatened you. She's investigating the situation and keeping you safe."

"What do you mean? Is she staying?"

Oliver didn't reply, and held me even closer so his buttered-caramel smelling skin while my cheek and left ear embraced back. "We can talk later, ok? At our spot. I'll knock on your door twice."

He let me go, sighing as he looked down to floor one. A big huff of air held strung into the gloomy aroma between our fingers. A lot has happened here, at this mansion Oliver owns. The events here have torn me apart, caressed me with unwanted attention, pointed me evil from my first breath. And here I am, with Oliver, feeding off of the support he has given me.

He may have some demons behind him, but does that make him a bad guy?

No. I would think not.

I forget about Ezra, my mother, and Laurence for a minute. Because none of them have shown me as much delicate care as Oliver. He truly wanted the best for me.

How couldn't I see that before?

"Thank you." I whisper, my throat hoarse and wiry.

His eyes meet mine, a crystal wave of a tyrant wind pooled up my spine. I shivered, my body reacting to his crisp gaze, and soon melted in spot. A warm, inkling, spark chanted at me to do something: so my lips both pulled upward and smiled.

Oliver seemed to recognize the sincerity buried in my voice, and dipped his head down to hide his face. His blonde hair, grown since we first met, shaded over his eyes and a smile also crept onto his lips. "You are always welcome." He whispered back.

"I'm sorry." I state.

"For what?" He stands taller, taking my right wrist in both of his hands to brush his thumbs over the skin. He stops, tightening his grip some, and gently tugs me closer.

I can't seem to help myself as my eyes wonder to his, we stand together: hand in hand, and I shrug. "I don't think I've been very kind to you."

"Eris," Oliver smiles, brushing a fallen strand of hair from my face: "you have done nothing wrong. We all have our demons to battle."

I nod and we are pulled apart.

"Eris." A commanding voice and a hand pull me backward, "what are you doing?"

Blinking from the moment, now lost, I search Oliver's defiant eyes. He was at a loss for words too.

"Let's go, Eris." I'm taken aback as I realize who was behind me.

"Laurence?" My teeth are clenched, but for all I could care I knew he needed to hear my spite. "What are you doing?"

His hand at my left shoulder, pulling me toward the hallway now, tightened slightly. "Getting you to bed. We have a big day for you tomorrow, remember?"

Squirming from his vice-like grip my feet stumble forward and away from him. "What's your problem?" I snarl, seizing Laurence for who he is: a bully, a cheat, and a possessive maniac.

His lips purse as he glares down at Oliver. Something was very off here. Laurence was subject to Oliver, why was he making all of the commands? And why was Oliver just standing around and letting Laurence push us around?

That picture didn't seem right to me.

"Do you think you can boss me around? I'm not some puppet to be played with! I don't know who you think you are, but I'm getting close to crossing the line with you! So back the hell: off!" Rage engulfed me, and the air coming from my body spiked to dangerous degrees of: hot. My heart picked up pace, my arms tensioned, and my eyes burned red till I was ready to pounce.

Laurence, despite my outrage, was calm and collected. "Eris. Calm down. I'm just doing my job. You're out passed curfew anyway. You don't seem to be doing well either, since you almost fell down the stairs and I had to catch you."

The words didn't feel right off of his tongue, but a hand on my shoulder calmed me down. Oliver shook his head and sighed: "Laurence is right, you should get to bed. It's my fault, I should have enforced that more often with you. My apologizes." He gives a gentle shove at the small of my back, and sends me on my way to my room.

I turn back, once, and see the two men glaring daggers into each other's souls before rounding the corner and making headway to my bedroom. Now all I wanted was to go home.