Page 81 of Semblance

There was no greater feeling in the world.

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Chapter Twenty-One

It was another wild Saturday night, partying with Calisto.

With Shadow gone over to New Orleansfor some family business, I had decided to give Calisto a ring to see what she was up to. When Calisto answered the phone, she seemed genuinely excited to hear from me.

Within anhour of the call, I was out of my house and into the limo, speeding off to another nightclub. Lucky for me, Bria had decided to sit this one out.

It was a solid four hours of intense, alcohol-fuelled dancing between Calisto and I that scorched the dance floor, reducing everything around us to ash and leaving men salivating at the prospect of spending the night between our legs.

After tossing a couple of NFL linebackers—why did we seem to attract douchebag athletes?—Calisto’s way, who devoured them like a carnivorous predator, it was my cue to leave the club.

Despite my protests, Calisto had called Abraham to personally chauffer me home, appalled by the fact that I had taken a cab last time.

A silver Mercedes Benz convertible—I was too drunk to remember the model but it looked expensive—sat in front of the club doors, waiting for me, Abraham sitting in the driver’s seat.

“God Abraham, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m drunk.”

“There’s no need to apologize over having a few drinks,” he said as he got out of the car and opened the passenger door for me.

“Did I get you out of bed?” I asked.

Abraham chuckled as he diverted my attention to his custom tailored grey suit. “I promise you, if I just woke up, I wouldn’t be dressed in an expensive suit.”

“What are you doing out at three in the morning?” I slurred as I entered into the car, sat back and closed my eyes.

“I was just finalizing some details on the Inferno’s accounts…” he rambled.

I didn’t catch the tail end of his reply. Whatever else he said was drowned in a sea of my alcohol induced sleep.

#

In my drunken state I didn’t recall stepping out of the car, entering into the condo, and going up the elevator; but somehow I wound up standing in front of my door, rummaging for my keys in my purse, which were gone.

Cursing, I decided to try pushing open the door anyways. Sure enough it was unlocked, which was strange.

I always made it a habit to lock all my doors, turn off all lights, and close all the windows before I left for anywhere. My father had engrained the importance of security and conserving energy since the day I started crawling.

Bleary-eyed, I entered into my condo and closed the door behind me. I would have to ask someone about making me another set of keys for my condo and possibly changing the locks.

Too tired and drunk to hang up my jacket, I dropped it in the foyer and went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, draining it all in a single gulp.

After slamming the glass onto the table, I entered into the bedroom to rid myself of my sweaty dance clothes and into some comfortable yoga pants.

I stood in front of my full length mirror and scrunched my face. I looked like a wreck. Sweat and make up was caked on my face and I was exhausted.

And that was when I noticed something shift in the reflection in my mirror. My heart practically exploded in my chest as I spun around and saw a man, clothed all in black, wearing a balaclava over his face and a hoodie over his head.

I screamed.

His reflexes were fast as his hands lunged for my throat, springing with the speed of a coiled cobra. His fingers pushed into the base of my neck, choking me into silence while tears streamed down my face.

Who was he and why was he doing this?

I had never felt so helpless in my life.

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