Song: Sink Into The Floor // Feng Suave
Just wanted to thank you all for adding the book to your reading lists/libraries.
Without further ado, here's the first chapter:
Just a reminder, Amber is 23 which means Dylan is 35!
•••
I was sitting on the small round table Dylan built me when I first moved into the apartment. It was crammed into the corner of the kitchen and had three, wooden chairs surrounding it, the fourth one was set in front of my desk. The apartment was small, something I wasn't normally used to having grown up in a castle of a house, but I liked it.
Dylan insisted I move in somewhere else, somewhere that didn't have exposed bricks for a wall in the living room. I told him that I wanted to pay for my own apartment, and this was what I could afford with my position as the assistant to an editor.
Although he was wary, he accepted the fact that I wanted to work for what I own, just like papa did. My brother flew over once every three months to make sure I was fine. Sometimes, he'd bring Antoine and Rose with him, other times he brought me furniture to replace my worn-out ones.
Last year, I walked in on him installing a flat-screen TV onto my living room wall while his five-year-old son sat on the couch and watched. Although I sometimes got mad when he'd barge into my apartment and redesign it, I understood that he was just trying to make me comfortable. I also knew he was just visiting me because he missed me, and not because he had business to attend to.
I didn't mind his visits, though, since his hugs always felt like home.
My seat in the corner of the kitchen, on the round table, served to be a sense of comfort for me. Being surrounded by two walls made me feel cozy and warm, something I needed while I read the email I received on my phone.
My eyes ran over the screen one, two, three times to make sure what I was reading wasn't just a figment of my imagination. Having had enough of reading the email, I turned off my screen and pinched the skin between my eyebrows.
"Fuck me," I whispered as I tried to digest the information I'd just read. I looked around the kitchen and my eyes landed on the pen to my right. Before I knew it, the stylo was hurtling across the kitchen and the cap fell off as it hit the wall.
I glanced at the clock and saw that Adam was going to be home in five minutes. He didn't live with me, mainly because I wasn't ready for that, but he always dropped by every day to see me at five o'clock sharp, right after he finished working. Adam Hindley and I met in university, and we've been dating for two years now. He always found a way to make me laugh, even when I was pissed at him. He just genuinely made me happy.
I got up from the corner of the kitchen and put my phone, yet another gift from Dylan, in between my legging's waistband and my hip. I filled the kettle with tap water and flipped it on as I pulled out two mugs from the cabinet above it.
I dropped two tea bags into the mugs and waited for the water to come to a boil before pouring it in. I just finished mixing the sugar into the beverage when I heard the door open. I smiled at the sound of him removing his jacket and made my presence known by walking into the living room with two mugs in my hand.
"Hey, babe," I greeted him, leaning up for a kiss before pulling away to hand him his mug of tea. He drank it with milk like a criminal would, and I briefly considered cutting off all ties with him when I first found out.
"Hi," He whispered with a soft smile. His eyes ran over my face like he was trying to memorize what I looked like, before bringing the mug up to his lips. "How was your day?"
I took a seat on the couch Dylan got me, one that was a loveseat version of the couch we had at home, and tucked my legs underneath me. I felt my phone dig into my stomach at my action, and I suddenly remembered the email.
"Good," I lied through my teeth. Dyl always told me how good of an actress I was– he called me a professional liar. Nobody could tell I was lying except for my older brother. It pissed me off to no ends because that meant he always knew when to call my bluff. "How about you?"
I leaned over to place my mug down on the coffee table, right next to his nearly empty one, and before I could retake my seat, I was picked up by the waist and placed on his lap. I quirked an eyebrow in surprise when I turned around to face him, our noses brushing over each other.
He looked me in the eyes before his gaze flickered down to my lips, "It's good now." He smelt of yellow tea and cologne, and I fucking loved it.
"Yeah?" I asked in a breathy tone. I felt my phone dig deeper into my stomach and the words in the email started whirling around in my head. I just wanted to forget I ever got the fucking letter– I didn't want to think about it.
Maybe if I woke up tomorrow, it would disappear. Maybe they'll send me an email stating they made a mistake.
Adam hummed before he leaned in to claim my lips, and I immediately responded. My hands automatically moved to cup his defined jaw as I repositioned myself so that I was straddling him. The kiss deepened, and all that could be heard was small moans coming from either of us.
The phone, though, felt the need to rearrange my guts. My mind was swirling with thoughts of Adam and the email, and I was slowly growing frustrated. Just as I was about to reach into my leggings to pull the phone out and throw it away, the front door was thrown open and slammed into the stopper behind it.
A resounding slam made me instantly jump off Adam, my eyes wide with fear just like his. Suddenly, five men dressed like movers ran into the room. Adam outstretched his arm in front of me protectively. I, on the other hand, furrowed my eyebrows– why the fuck were these people in here?
The man in front of the other four pulled out a handgun and raised it so it was pointing at the both of us. I wanted to scream, fuck I wanted to scream, at the sight of the weapon. The two men behind him pulled out their guns too, but they kept it down.
"Get the fuck up," The first one, who looked to be the leader, said in a deep, hoarse voice. Adam stood up, his back facing me, and did as the man said. I instantly followed his movement. The man tilted the gun to the direction of the small space between the couch and the kitchen, silently telling us to move there.
"On your knees, hands behind your back." I did as he said, not wanting him to shoot me in between my fucking eyebrows.
"Be quick," He ordered his clique, and the two men in the back walked past us without sparing us a glance. I looked behind me, making sure my hands were still up, and watched in horror as they entered my room. "Alright, Adam, go show them were her shit is."
My head snapped in Adam's direction at his command. He got up from his knees and dusted himself off, almost like he completed a difficult task. My eyes darted across his figure, then they flickered to the man who was watching him with a knowing look. I looked back at Adam and I couldn't help the fact that my hands were beginning to shake.
"What's happening?" I asked quietly, scared I was going to get hurt. Adam's eyes met mine, and I almost burst into tears when I saw how cold they were, but I willed myself not to cry. I swallowed when he walked by me without a word.
Don't you dare fucking cry in front of them, Amber.
"It's a stick-up, sweetheart," He sneered. His tongue piercing shined under the light and I wanted to wince. "You're getting robbed."
The two men walked back into the living room. They were carrying my boxes of jewelry opening it up to flash him whatever was inside. The leader picked up a diamond choker Alexandre and Nick got me for my birthday a few years ago, and I suppressed the urge to yank it out of his filthy hands. The leader nodded and they silently closed the boxes and placed them into a black duffel bag.
I heard some chatter from behind me, but all I could focus on was the barrel of the gun that was staring at me. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. A shaky breath escaped my lips, and the man smirked at the sound. He looked over my face, then my body, and I wanted nothing more than to kick him.
I looked away from him, trying my best not to start swearing the house down. My eyes caught sight of the pink electric guitar Dylan got me when I graduated high school, a holographic guitar strap drooped behind it. The man roughly grabbed my face and turned it so I was looking at him.
I could feel my heart hammering against my chest, and I was sure the three men could hear it too. Adam walked back into the room, with boxes of shoes this time, and his steps faltered once he saw his leader's hands on me. I looked away from him when I felt myself bubble with rage.
He placed the boxes into one of the many bags and turned back to walk into my apartment.
"He sure picked a good one," The man commented, and I had to close my eyes and count back from ten to stop myself from screaming for help and crying.
I wanted Dylan.
"Tell you what, sweetheart," He kissed his teeth. "I'm feelin' awfully generous; you can pick one thing that we won't take."
I opened my eyes and stared back at his blue ones, trying to whether or not he was being serious. My heart was pounding, sweat was rolling down my forehead, and my head was starting to hurt. I just wanted Dylan.
Suddenly, my throat felt dry, and I tried to swallow to hydrate it, "The electric guitar," I rasped out. The man looked around the room to try and locate it, and once he did, his eyes lingered on it for a few seconds as he examined it. My gaze drifted to the two men in the back. One was standing by the door, peering out the peephole in case anyone walked by outside, and the other was organizing the things into the bag.
My things.
Finally, the man spoke again, "Wouldn't sell much for anyways since your name's engraved on it." He clicked his tongue. He harshly let go of my chin and the action almost sent me toppling back. The four men, including Adam, continued to pack my things up while one of them delivered large appliances and decorative items to a truck downstairs.
I watched helplessly as they picked up my TV, a crystal lamp Dylan got me and my speakers to carry them downstairs. At some point, I decided I couldn't watch them anymore and resorted to staring at the ground in front of me. Adam was stuffing my dresses and clothes into the duffel bag, and I could feel his burning gaze on me, but I refused to look at him.
I wanted Dylan.
Instead, all I could think about was how I desperately wanted to throw up. I spent two years with this man, and this was how it was going to end– with him stealing everything I owned. Suddenly, my brain went into overdrive as it started thinking about things that I noticed have gone missing but never questioned– was that all him?
After what felt like an eternity, the four men who burst into the apartment walked out carrying two duffel bags each. I wanted to cry at the sight of my clothes and jewelry disappearing but withheld my tears. My hands were starting to grow tired and my legs were numb. I kept my gaze on the floor as the man came to stand in front of me, Adam right behind him.
"It was nice meeting you, sweetheart. Though, it's a shame it was under such circumstances," He voiced out in a taunting tone. "Thank you for your co-operation."
And just like that, his gun was tucked into a pocket inside of his movers' jumpsuit. He walked out of the room, whistling a happy tune. I bit my tongue and lifted my head so I could take in my apartment. My empty apartment. Everything was gone; the couch; the coffee table; anything else they could fit into the fucking elevator.
"I'm sorry, Amber," Adam whispered from in front of me, and I snapped my head in his direction. I clenched my jaw as tears welled up in my eyes. He was looking at me with genuine sorrow, and I was on the verge of believing him when I remembered how he lied to me for two years.
Fuck you, I wanted to say, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you...
I flattened my lips and looked away from him, my eyes widening when I took in the vacated space. I worked so hard, so so hard, to earn most of these things. Dylan got me a lot of the items they stole, and he worked hard for that money too.
I heard the clicking of dress shoes and watched Adam leave from the corner of my eyes. He closed the door as he walked out into the corridor and I realized that I still had my hands behind my head.
I waited in the same position for a minute that quickly turned to fifteen, and when I finally felt reassured that they'd left the premises, I shot up onto my feet and ran towards the door so I could lock it. I pressed my back against the door, my eyes darting around the now open space. Hot tears started rolling down my face when my brain finally understood what the fuck just happened.
I pressed my palm against my mouth to contain my sobs and pulled out my phone from my waistband, suddenly feeling grateful for having it there. With shaking hands and blurred eyes, I opened my contacts. I've memorized where his contact was by now and could find it without looking.
I pressed down on his number and he picked up after three rings. I could hear the wailing of babies in the background, and Rose's motherly voice trying to calm them down, "Tony, can you please clean up Céline and Cody's toys?" Dylan pleaded, referring to his newborns. Rose gave birth to twins eight months ago, and they were a fucking handful to care for.
"Okay, papa," I high pitched voice sounded from his end of the call.
I felt myself calm down at the sound of my older brother and my nephew. I aggressively wiped away the tears in my eyes with the back of my hand. A few seconds later, Dylan spoke, "Hey, Bee, what's up?"
"Dylan," I whimpered, and I could hear his breath hitch at the sound of my broken voice.
"Amber? What the fuck happened– are you alright?" He rushed out in a panic, and I had to thin my lips to stop myself from sobbing at the question.
I released a shaky breath, "Dyl, I really need you," I told him in a small voice, and I hated myself for sounding so weak. I tilted my head back so it was resting against the door, hoping that would keep my tears at bay.
"Fuck, okay, give me a second," He replied, and I could hear Rose yelling in the background, concerned with her husband's sudden change in demeanor. The baby's wails became louder as Dylan explained what was happening to Rose. I stayed quiet, listening as my older brother used Rose's phone to call Nick so he could come over and help Rose take care of their three children. My sister-in-law, on the other hand, was helping him out by packing him a small bag to travel with.
I small sob escaped my lips making Dylan pause halfway through his sentence, "Amber, honey, I'm going to be there as fast as I can. They're preparing the private jet for me, okay? Can you hold on for a few hours?"
I blinked away the tears and looked around my apartment the fuckers had emptied out, "How long will you be?" I asked through a hiccup.
"Three hours, max. Just sit tight, okay?" He tried to calm me down, and the sound of his voice was enough to relax me. I crossed my legs over each other in a sitting position and swallowed.
"Yeah," I whispered staring ahead where my bedroom was. I didn't have the heart to enter my room and see what they left me. All I knew was they didn't take away my bed since it was too big. For all I know, everything else probably disappeared. "Just hurry up."
If I weren't crying, I knew he'd retort with a, 'I can't fucking control the airplanes, now can I?'.
"I'm coming, Bee," He reassured me. The nickname made the corner of my lips tug up.
•••
During those three hours, I had to force myself not to throw up. My head was pounding from the unnatural amount of tears I cried and I felt really faint. Dylan kept updating me with texts, but I hadn't received one in a while now. I hadn't moved from my position on the floor. My mind would not stop replaying what happened which only made me want to throw up even more.
All I could think about was how I fucking wished I let Dylan install those security cameras. When he proposed the idea, I instantly shot him down, because, at the time, I never saw the point in having them. But as I sat in my empty apartment, I wished I agreed to it. Dylan was always preparing for the worst, while I was more carefree.
I swallowed the lump in my throat for what felt like the thousandth time today as I took in my empty apartment. What did I do to deserve this?
An urgent knock at the door interrupted my train of thoughts, making my heartbeat pick up. My stomach tied up into a knot at the thought of them being back. With shaky hands, I forced myself up from the floor and tried to slow down my breath.
They're back, they're back, they're–
"Amber?" A familiar voice shouted from the other side of the door. I perked up at the sound of Dylan's voice and checked the peephole to make sure it was really my brother. Once I saw his tense figure repeatedly press down on the doorbell, I unlocked the door and opened it up.
When he saw my disheveled figure, his eyes softened as he released a sigh of relief. He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer, engulfing me in a bear hug. His arms wrapped around my significantly smaller figure and my dam broke at the sensation. I started sobbing into his shirt, my tears soaking it.
My arms hung limply by my side, and I couldn't find the energy to lift them and hug him back. His fingers started raking through my hair to try and calm me down as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear– this was what he did to quiet down Tony when he was a baby.
"Bee, what happened?" He asked as he placed a small kiss on the top of my head. I was guessing the damage done wasn't visible from his viewpoint.
I stepped back from his embrace and wiped my tears away from my face, but they kept flowing down. I didn't feel like reliving the nightmare, so I took his hand in mine and pulled him into the vacated apartment. I stopped in the place that previously held my couch, and I felt my brother tense when he saw how empty the apartment was.
Suddenly, I was hit with a wave of guilt when I realized how most of the things they stole were stuff Dylan bought me, "I'm so sorry, Dyl. They just came in, and they had guns, I–" I started stuttering at a loss of words. How was I supposed to explain this to him?
"Guns?" He asked in a low, dangerous voice. His eyes widened when he looked around the room. He turned around and placed two hands on my shoulders, inspecting my figure, "Did they hurt you?"
I shook my head and swallowed the evergrowing lump in my throat. I watched as my brother walked deeper into my apartment, checking the two bedrooms as he dialed a phone number. I stood in the middle of the apartment, looking up at the ceiling feeling lost.
My eyes caught sight of the two mugs that were placed onto the floor in a corner. The mugs of tea I'd prepared for Adam and me. I screwed my eyes shut, forcing myself to stop thinking about him. I felt like a fucking idiot.
Dylan walked back into the room with a hard look on his face, his phone pressed up to his ear, "Is there any chance you can get some paramedics to come and check her out?"
He waited for a second, his eyes running over my figure again to make sure I was alright. I couldn't even fucking call the police. Did this mean that it was going to take them longer to find them?– Would they even be able to find them?
"I'm so sorry, Dyl," I whispered as he hung up the phone. My eyes burned with the number of times I've cried so far.
Dylan's features softened at my state and he gave ma a reaffirming look, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Bee. The police are on their way, the operator said it would take them fifteen minutes."
Before I knew it, I was engulfed in another hug. Dylan tucked my head beneath his chin and squeezed me tight. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his chest. I felt him take in a deep, shaky breath of air.
"I don't know what I would've done if I lost you, Bee." He said in a raw voice, squeezing me even tighter in an attempt to reassure himself that I was alive and well. I didn't reply, instead, I savored the feeling of being in my brother's embrace.
I felt safe, nobody was going to hurt me now.
He draped one arm across my shoulder when he pulled back, keeping me close to him. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and opened it up to an app.
"What are you doing?" I asked him hoarsely.
"Checking the security cameras," He said nonchalantly, and I almost reeled back at the statement.
"I don't have any, Dyl. Remember?"
He glanced at me and gave me an innocent smile, "You didn't think I'd listen to you, did you? My job is to keep you safe in case anything happens, and I can't do that if we don't live in the same country."
I looked at him with an unamused expression when in reality I was relieved to have my nutcase of a brother plan ahead like he always did. I wasn't surprised to hear that he didn't listen to me and went ahead with whatever he wanted to do. Sometimes, it angered me, but I always knew he had the best intentions at heart. I was grateful he installed the security cameras because that meant the police might be able to find them.
As Dylan pulled up the videos and downloaded them, I looked around the apartment trying to find where he might've installed the cameras. I couldn't find anything, and when I glanced back at him, I saw him scrunch up his nose, fast-forwarding past the part where I was making out with Adam.
I blushed before frowning, remembering how he fucking betrayed me. I felt so stupid for having wasted two years of my life with a man who ended up conspiring against me. Dylan had a guarded expression as he watched the man roughly grab my face to force me to look at him.
Suddenly, I felt his hands on my face again, and I gasped, desperate for air. Dylan looked at me with a concerned expression and widened eyes. I clenched my eyes shut, feeling his fingers dig into my skin. Stop, stop–
"Bee?" Dylan asked, making me snap my eyes open to shoot him a panicked look. He furrowed his eyebrows, growing more concerned at my behavior. I looked around the apartment, he's not here, Amber.
"Amber, are you okay?" He asked, moving to stand in front of me.
My senses started going into overdrive– my ears were ringing; my eyes couldn't seem to focus on one thing– instead, they darted across the room; all I could taste was hot spit. He's not here, he's not here– the pounding in my head started to intensify at the sound of my heartbeat mixed in with the ringing in my ears.
Suddenly, my vision started to darken, and maybe my face went pale because Dylan's eyes widened, "Oh shit," He exclaimed as he outstretched his arms, catching me as I stumbled forward.
All I remember was him carrying me like papa did when I was younger, resting on his hip with my head by his shoulder before everything went black.
•••
– 14/06/20
Hi?
I'm going to enjoy writing the book and fucking with you guys.
Anywho, what do you think the email said?
And what did u think of the chapter??
Sneak peek:
He sent the two officers to my room, probably to vandalize it with their atrocious evidence markers. My brother squeezed my shoulder once before he walked away towards the kitchen, and I was just about to follow him, not wanting to be around these strangers, when the detective stopped me.