Fatal Vows

Chapter 3

I cover my mouth to keep from screaming and breathe heavily into my sweaty palms. Bracing an arm on the pillar, I will myself not to faint as my head blurs the red corpse at my feet. My dad's face appears in my head, my heart throbbing in my ears. I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders and am turned to face Daylon, his eyes laced with concern and terror.

"Elena, stay with me," he murmurs.

I nod as I slowly remove my hands from my mouth, eyes stinging from tears.

Through the silence, people bustle around us. I hear a few screams and shouts as everyone hurries out of the ballroom. Daylon guides me away from the corpse. Tears flow from my eyes, my breathing ragged.

"Let's go to your room, yeah?" Daylon begins to guide me away from the woman's body. I look back at her limp figure, a frail hand stretched to where I stood moments ago.

"Shh, don't look back, don't look back," Daylon whispers into my ear. We follow the frantic people out of the chaos. A few nice people make room for us to leave. I hardly notice. I can't get the woman's glazed eyes out of my head and her raspy voice.

You.

The manager pushes past the crowd, murmuring with a few of the guests, a gentle hand at each of their shoulders, along with a few other employees.
"Shouldn't we have them stay?" I hear one say. "The police would want them to, right?"

"They just witnessed a murder, Jeffrey! How would we get them to come back anyway, it's too late."

They shrug and continue through the crowd.

A few people give us concerned glances, some actually coming up to ask, and I'm grateful to Daylon for explaining himself on my behalf. They respond with a solemn nod and continue about their business.

I squeeze my eyes shut as we board the elevator.

Daylon wraps his arms protectively around me. I find myself leaning into him as we go up and up.

We finally get off on the twenty-ninth floor and head to my room. I look up at the painting of Esther, but Daylon shies me away.

I shakily take out my key card. Daylon gently takes it and opens the door into the dark room. For once, I wish my mom was with me instead of with Kelly.

Daylon guides me to bed with steady arms, guiding me to sit. I let the tears flow, my dad's haunting voice ringing in my head, and Daylon rubs my back.

I open my eyes to see blood on my flats.

Her blood.

I take in a shaky gasp and cover my mouth. I frantically kick off the stained shoes, the flats slamming against my mom's sheets, hysterical with fear.

"Hey, hey," Daylon says. "Look at me."

I slowly remove my eyes from my feet to his face, bathed in moonlight. He brings up a hand and wipes my tears away. I look into his dark eyes. His thin lips curl into a half-smile.

"What happened happened," he brushes a stray hair from my face. "We'll make it up tomorrow, okay? If you need anything, let me know, alright?"

"I'm sorry," I croak.

He gives me a confused look. "For what?"

I look at my lap. "My dad," I start, fiddling with my dress, "he died a couple of years ago."

He looks at me intently.

"Lung cancer," I mutter, a foul taste invading my mouth. "Ever since, death has always been hard on me, anyone's death, I suppose."