~ In the Fell ~

CECILY

When the fat man finished counting the dollar bills in his sweaty hand, he grinned at me.

"I knew you would come again," he croaked with his cigarette between his lips. "Told you, that's the best price."

I didn't bother saying anything.

"Here. Eight hundies."

I took the cash and handed my car keys out. It did hurt. More than I thought it would.

But it was the last station for today.

I had been at a thrift shop, getting a pathetic deal for my dresses but at least it was some money. I had sold the prettiest ones, formal ones I had worn occasionally and some that still had a price tag.

My books had brought more money.

It was okay. It really was.

Selling my stuff was getting easier. I just kept the necessary things.

Once I was done, I changed into my skinny jeans and a flannel to get to my work at the diner.

It was a small restaurant, so was the pay. But the manager was a decent guy. He barely talked, so I barely had to answer questions. Especially the ones where I had to explain why I needed to go an hour earlier or come an hour later. I was lucky he was cool.

There were some other benefits, too. Last week, a customer had sent back his barely-touched plate full of onion rings because he was making a fuss over the crispiness. No shit. The. Crispiness.

I'd lost track when my last meal had been, so I had dug in and devoured it.

I had nothing to be ashamed of. The food was perfectly fine. And throwing away perfectly fine food was something I could not live with.

"Twin Beef Burger, Roast Turkey and a Deluxe," the cook said and put the plate on the counter.

"Got it," I said to my colleague who was mouthing a thank-you.

The customers' eyes were focused on the food, almost drooling right on the table and I couldn't blame them. It looked divine.

"Cecily?" a voice asked once I put the plate down.

I looked up and saw a familiar face staring at me. Surprise widened my eyes. It was Dexter.

"Hey. Didn't know you were working here," he said, lips stretching to a smile.

"Oh, yeah. I got the job recently."

"Nice."

He was sitting with a couple friends I didn't know. Their faces already sunk inside the burgers, the masseters on full speed.

Dexter's eyes decently studied me, looking worried. "You look… good. A bit thinner."

I waved my hand in the air. "Much work."

"So how was your summer?" the ever-polite boy asked me.

"Fantastic," I lied and even I heard the sarcasm. Dexter didn't.

"Cool. Mine, too. But, you know… after weeks of doing nothing but laying in the sun and attending to my parents' social events, you kind of miss college."

Oh, right. Poor Dexter. But, you know, I was busy too – with partying on a cruising yacht and eating caviar.

"Sounds crazy, right?" Dexter laughed.

"You bet, dude," one of his friends mumbled, sparing me a big fat Duuuuuh. At least he had a couple friends who weren't that school-crazed like him.

"How's Anna?" I asked. "Haven't heard from her in a while."

Her last email had been a month ago or so. She'd said she spent some time with her family but there were some problems going on. No clue what she had meant because after my last email, she didn't reply.

Dexter rubbed his jaw. "Yeah, she's good. She has a lot of things to do now. She got accepted real quick, so I'm happy for her."

"Accepted?"

He nodded, taking a huge bite of his Turkey sandwich. "Yeah, she didn't tell you?" he gobbled.

"Uhh, I guess not. My… my phone's broken."

Excuse of the century.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "She transferred back. To Chicago."

My eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Yeah. Her sister's sick, so she wanted to be there for her family. One of the best hospitals for neurosurgery is there," he added.

My stomach twisted. Her sister was sick. Really sick. And I had no idea.

I was such a great friend.

"I… I didn't know," I gulped meekly.

"She only told a few," he said apologetically as he turned his attention on his food.

I went back to work, distracting myself with other people's orders. I imagined for a second it was Marlene and a knot formed between my insides.

I swallowed hard.

Once Dexter and his friends (generously) paid for their food, I cleaned up their plates.

I noticed one of Dexter's friend staring at his phone before he tapped his friend's shoulder.

"The cops still don't have any trace. Man, that sucks."

Dexter frowned, shaking his head. "Poor family."

I didn't mean to ask but Dexter must've seen the confused look in my eyes. "You've heard from Lucas, right?"

"Heard what?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You haven't?"

"Heard what?" I sighed. Having no phone seemed to cut me out from the whole world.

"He's been missing."

"What?" Now that struck. "Missing as in he's just busy being off his head on drugs on an island or missing as in–"

I couldn't even finish that sentence.

Dexter shook his head. "No. Missing missing," he said. "As in he disappeared."

The next day, I entered the training hall in the afternoon.

This time, I had to be the one waiting for Raphael. He'd given me the keys, so I already stretched and went through all the warm up.

After forty minutes, he still wasn't anywhere to be seen. Maybe he forgot. Instinctively, I reached for my phone in my pocket but then realization struck me.

Getting a phone was on top of my To-Do-list.

I kept doing the warm up with a lot of pauses that I had been sorely lacking. And during the pauses, I was thinking about Lucas.

Dexter didn't know any details, only that he'd been missing for weeks now and that he had been last seen somewhere here in L.A.

Missing.

I had always thought those things only happened on TV. Not to someone I knew. Someone who went to college with me. Oh God.

Even though Lucas was a spineless prick who deserved to be punished, together with his friend Aro, I felt sorry. For him. His family. I couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of pain that must be.

I shook those thoughts off me.

I hope the police would find him. They had to.

One hour… two hours… passed.

Where was Raphael?

I strolled around the hall and checked the rocky walls (which were real rocks) and stopped by the punching bag. Carefully, I wrapped my hands with bandages. My knuckles were healing. Slowly. Now I could painlessly open and close my hands to fists.

I punched. Slow at first, testing how much force I needed to make the bag move visibly.

I punched again. Left, right, right, left. Sweat was rolling off my back and my breathing got shallow.

I struck again, willing more power into my blows. It was getting more difficult. My arms burned but I continued. Faster.

The punching bag changed into something else.

Ace's face.

A face I could paint blindfolded.

I struck harder.

Faster.

Angrier.

Anger.

It was still there. Like a slumbering beast inside me.

I didn't want to think about him, didn't want to raise that anger to defend myself. I didn't need it.

I didn't need him.

"Your balance still sucks," a voice behind me said. I paused.

Raphael was standing there, crossed arms, sullen face.

"But at least," he said, coming closer. Without a warning, he lifted his arm and stroke out, ready to slam his fist into my left cheekbone if I hadn't shielded my face. His knuckles connected with my forearm, sending a current through my bone. "You learned to keep your left arm up."

I was probably beginning to have visions but there may have been a proud expression in his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes on him.

"You're late. Big time," I accused, but he just shrugged.

"I was busy. I would've texted you but–"

"I don't have a phone. I know."

I so needed a damn phone. His look dropped to my bruise, my face and then settled on my eyes.

"You kind of don't look like sixteen anymore."

Oh! Even if this was a weird sort of compliment, my lips quivered to a smile.

"Seventeen, maybe," he laughed. "But still a baby face, though."

I gave him my sweetest smile as I walked to the bench. "Jealous, old man? At least I don't wake up with wrinkles and a hangover."

A vein on his forehead popped up, but his half-grin assured me he didn't take it bad.

"Smart-mouthing today, huh?"

I was eager to begin the training, but there was something I needed to know first.

"Did you hear some news about Jade?" I asked.

He shrugged both shoulders.

Which meant no.

"Nothing? Aren't you two something like friends?"

He snorted. "We work together. Doesn't mean we have to be friends."

"Okay. And what about altruism?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're a real pain in the balls."

"Do you have an address at least? Or do you know where to find her?"

"Why?"

I didn't know that either. I propped my elbow on my crossed legs and put my chin in my palm.

"I'm… just worried, I guess."

There was a long pause. My gaze was on the punching bag, softly swinging back and forth.

"What happened wasn't your fault, so drop that guilty look on your face." Raphael's voice was gruff, but there was also gentleness on the edge.

"I'm not looking guilty."

"You are."

Okay, maybe I was. I felt guilty. For what I didn't know, because Raphael was right: what happened had nothing to do with me. Maybe this was just a feeling of empathy.

No. It wasn't.

I felt guilty.

Guilty for having been helpless, not strong enough. For not having reacted faster. For not having heard her screams sooner.

My reasons may sound absurd, but they were pinching the back of my mind.

Raphael sighed. "She lives somewhere in the South. But ask Roman for details. He knows everyone's shit."

Roman! I should've thought about that before.

"Thanks," I said, getting up. "Can I borrow your phone?"

"Why?"

"I want to call him. Now."

Shaking his head, he gave me a bleak look but took it out of his pocket. He tapped his thumb against the display and brought it to his ear.

I raised one single eyebrow at him, but he just exhaled.

"It's me," he said. "Nah… Yeah… Shut your mouth for two seconds and listen. You know where Jade is? Haven't… heard from her for a while."

Definitely concern. Wow. Raphael could be worried about someone.

"Uh-huh," he slurred to Roman. "Yes… Fuck no… Yeah. Thanks, man."

He hung up and slipped it back to his pocket.

"Come," he said and with his large steps he was almost at the door.

"Whoa? Come where? And aren't we supposed to train?"

"Look at the time. It's too late. I just came here to grab a few things. Besides, your little head would be too distracted to focus on training. And I can see your finger."

I dropped my hand and followed silently.

"Where are we going?"

"To the club."

I looked at my watch. How did that much time pass already? "But, what about–"

"She's there."

Once we arrived at the club, I quickly scanned the changing rooms for Jade. Which wasn't necessary. Her voice was already pinching my ears.

"Get your fat ass out of my way, bitch," she snarled at Candy.

Her flaming hair whirled when she looked at me. Her bruises had healed. There was a small suture under the crust on her lips, and her eye was still rimmed by a small yellowish ring.

But she seemed fine.

My lips twitched a little as I sat down at the vanity table. "Nice to see you again, Jade."

She rolled her eyes and took a seat next to me.

"How's your jaw?" I said, scanning her up and down.

She shrugged. "Good. A friend fixed me up."

Incredulously, my eyebrows pulled together. "Fixed you up?"

"Yes, fixed me up," she groaned. "Now stop getting your nose up my ass."

Her voice was harsh and if I hadn't seen a flash of a grin on her face, I would've been annoyed that Jade was back. Eventually, she would become a bitch to me again, so I already prepared myself for her comeback.

But for now I think we both put our weapons aside.

"And how… are you doing?"

"Good," she answered shortly. "Busy mostly. I wouldn't have been able to come here anyway. With or without the injuries."

I didn't know if this was a lie or not and frankly, I didn't mind.

"What did your friend say about your injuries?" I asked, watching her tracing her eyeliner perfectly over her eyelid.

"Nothing. It'll heal in a few weeks. She told me not to open my mouth too much. Which means no blow jobs for now."

She gave me a side-grin. Jade could make jokes. Who knew.

"She's a nurse," she informed. "She stitched me up."

She got up, ruffling her hair in the mirror before turning her gaze to me.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Even beaten half to death, I would still look better than you."

Her heels click-clacked when she headed to the stage room.

Yep. Jade was back.

"Damn, girl. I never saw Jade being so jealous."

Like a shadow, Roman stepped out of nowhere, placing some clothes in my hand. A tiny corset dress that was probably going to make it hard to breathe.

"She shouldn't." I had nothing to be envious of. I frowned. "I wonder what made her strip anyway."

She should be in high school, or college, or anywhere far away from places like that.

"Say whatever you want about Jade but she's very loyal to her boyfriend," was Roman's answer.

"Huh?"

Roman smiled wearily. "Her boyfriend's in jail. She tries to bail him out."

Oh.

Pity swirled around me like a dark cloud. I thought she was doing it for herself. Because she dropped out or something. Or ran away.

Roman picked up on my expression. "Who thought you two would have something in common, right?"

He disappeared from whatever back door he came in.

In common? Our motives were like day and night.

She did it out of love.

I did it out of hate.

Tonight was full house. Typical for a Friday night. I had been busy with serving, but when Grant nodded toward the stage, I knew it was my signal.

There were four cages, two were already occupied with women dancing like snakes in it. The other one was filled with a couple, or rather a threesome. I went up the stairs to the empty one and shut the door behind me. The music was loud, the bass shaking the walls in this club, but I found a certain calm here. I looked down at the people enjoying the show and then I closed my eyes.

There was just the music and me. Nothing else mattered.

I moved to the beat, letting anything else brush off me.

When I danced, my mind was empty. I listened to the lyrics, matched my moves to the beat and gave myself fully to the song.

I danced like I was under the shower. Or in my room. Alone. With no one staring at me, no one expecting anything from me.

With one hand, I grabbed the cold bar and with the other I brushed my hair out of my face. It was hot.

Roars floated, but I shut my ears to them. I was just hearing the music.

But then I felt it.

As if someone was watching me. Which was stupid because a bunch of people were watching me. I opened my eyes and looked down at the crowd. Some men blew whistles at me, others wiggled with dollar notes to get a stripper to do her thing.

Just as I wanted to laugh at myself for being paranoid, I spotted him.

He would always stand out, no matter where.

With his raven hair and those luminous blue eyes that my soul recognized before my body did.

Handsome.

The most beautiful man I'd ever seen.

Something almost out of this world.

Something deadly.

Ace.

He stared at me.

And I froze.

My limbs wouldn't obey me. Hell, my whole system was on a highway to shut down.

He kept staring at me with those eyes that haunted me every night when I couldn't find sleep.

My grip around the bars tightened.

This room, this cage suddenly was too tight. I breathed deeply but there wasn't enough oxygen to drag to my lungs.

I felt – no, I was trapped.

Okay… okay.

I needed to calm down.

I had two options.

Get the hell out of here ASAP, hoping the crowd would swallow me and I'd be gone before he'd catch me.

Or I'll show him that he had no effect on me. Because he hadn't.

I grinned.

That decision was an easy one.