Page 6 of Chain Me

Sane people.

And I was well beyond both states of being.

* * *

My new driver asked way too many damn questions. “Did you cut yourself, miss? You know this place is deserted, right? Are you sure this is the right address?”

To compound my irritation, I didn’t even know his name. As he opened the door on my end, I asked him purely out of spite.

“François,” he blurted after a moment’s pause. His wide-eyed expression probably had something to do with the red liquid drying over the corner of my mouth. And my hands.

Rather than explain myself, I shoved the door open farther and pushed past him to mount the curb. A scorching sun cast the property in an uncharacteristically bright light. Spring was waning and warm weather had rudely invaded. Those who passed by were wearing vibrant sundresses and short-sleeved ensembles in pastel pinks and dreamy hues.

On the other hand,Iwas wearing a thick skirt. And a sweater. And an overcoat.

The layers were in vain—I was shivering anyway.

Perhaps my inner emotions were projecting outside? Though, in that case, I should have felt nothing. Numb was the worddu jouras I pondered the hollowed-out shell of a building before me.

It had been a bustling cathedral only a few short weeks ago. Now, a sign nailed to the grand entrance claimed itclosed for renovations. How subtle.

If only its worshippers knew what had taken place within this supposedly holy space, just beyond the beautiful façade of stained-glass windows.

God didn’t live here alone—that was for sure. Or at least, that used to be the case. Even now, the back of my neck prickled, but a paranoid glance over my shoulder revealed no one in sight. After a moment’s hesitation, I crouched and finally slid my bloodied letter beneath the door.

There. Whether anyone actually read it or not didn’t matter. I’d made an attempt to have the last word.

The last laugh.

Nonetheless, I returned to the car knowing that it was a fool’s errand—but how else did you reach someone who didn’t want to be found?

You shouted into the void, of course.

And only silence answered back.

Fortune Favors the Gray

No mysterious visitor appeared to darken my doorstep the next morning. No parcel arrived, stuffed into the mailbox. Either I was losing my touch when it came to dramatic gestures or blood-soaked letters didn’t pack the same punch of urgency they used to. Almost as if…

Well, almost as if Dublin Heloswasn’tlurking in the shadows, watching me.

At least one person did seem interested in my welfare, considering they called almost daily, leaving a message each time.

“Ms. Gray, this is doctor Goodfellow. I am still waiting to hear from some experts in the field about your case. I hope to have an answer soon…”

“Ms. Gray, I’ve received the results of your last blood test. We should schedule another appointment immediately…”

“Ms. Gray, doctor Goodfellow again. I must ask if you are a government official or in possession of some kind of high-level security clearance, because accessing an opinion on your case at all seems to involve an unusual number of hurdles…”

Dublin Helos had left a void in my life that even one of the best doctors in the country couldn’t fill—and he refused to offer any explanation as to why. But I didn’tscream, or cry, or fall into hysterics at the possibility of being ignored. Instead, as any uncaring socialite would, I simply wrote him three more letters, each one colder than the last. Four more. What they said didn’t matter, just what they symbolized. Nagging. Desperation. Taunting.

I never needed you.

I never wanted you.

I don’t dream of you. Every night. I don’t imagine slapping you. Punching you. Hating you.

I don’t think of you.