Page 44 of Eyes Like Angel (Eyes Like Angel #1)
Adrian
I had no intentions to stay far from her. In fact, I intended to get answers. I had to.
This morning, distributing and transferring boxes of water bottles was bothersome. Mom insisted on further, no matter how long it takes to keep me occupied, eyes on the prize, as I recalled back to the previous major events.
Started around a few days ago, when I got back outside of the farm, Eva’s presence was undetected, and Miss Curtis glued on the side, arms crossed and a smirk curled to her thin lips, widely-exciting posture she carried on her backside.
Her vicious smirk replayed over my brain in countless times.
I tried asking her what happened and to where Eva went, only to gain a short reply with, “Don’t know.
It looks like she got bored of you from waiting.
She’s such a nervous little girl, isn’t she?
She always stayed where she belongs like a dumb beaten dog. ”
I didn’t get her stupid joke, saying something about with her snacks.
Every time Aaron and I chat, Emily chimed in by saying, “ Yeah, and I’m eating hot Cheetos ,” with a bored “ I-don’t-give-a-fuck ” expression, laced in sarcasm, and then screeched an ugly, terrifying, irritating laugh.
Hearing her was like hearing nails on a chalkboard.
God, what a stupid comment!
And her ugly, loud laugh!
Instead of seeing Eva enjoying herself, instead of Eva staying at the party at the barn I had it set up for her. Amelia—or Emily—as Eva corrected me on, Eva’s disappearance plastered in my numbing head throughout the celebrated event that previous night.
Emily struck a nerve. I hated the way she laughed, especially someone who I wanted to see and looked forward to at the party. It was the last thing I need to see and hear.
Hours later, somewhere later after midnight, after the party, I chose not to contact her—dodging at her attempts to say her goodbyes and the messages bombarded me. I didn’t bother to face her and pretend like nothing transpired.
She tried to call me several times on my phone, despite unknowing how she got my number, so I turned the notifications off, busying on cleaning up the party at a Aaron’s house, having my mom as a loyal messenger to relay from Mr. and Mrs. Curtis’s contact regardless of my whereabouts, urged for my full cooperation and a pleasant grin to bestow, as if I was God to their persistent prayers, granting to ‘save’ their souls—or lessen a tension headache.
Non-stop for several days, depending whether I was at the store, at someone’s house or at the Rivers residence, Mom kept bugging me, wondering when the broom will come to spank me or a flying Chanel heels aiming above the head.
Mom irked when I chose to disregard her wishes—wishes on collaboration—a possibility of Mr. Curtis and Mr. Rivers, a dynamic duo, working at the official business in a large town that might be successful in the near future than any stores—Mom proclaimed, I knew I stepped into an explosive mines, like I had to be careful around it and not let it crack.
I once overheard they might ran a resort business for the guests, the outsiders or guests to relax and enjoy the scenery and be lazy; eating at a food buffet—he mentioned it also.
Meaning twice as plentiful expenses, negotiations and hard-cold cash stacking in—never out—and a possible chance of lesser attendance in the private residence.
But who knows what my dad was trying to do. He kept all of us in the dark.
This could be a chance to have bigger success, Mom told me in brutal persistence, keen and willing, urging me to seize the occasion faster than she anticipates.
When I gave a short, nonchalant feedback, Mom irked still, and instructed me to comply—or call Amelia—Emily. Subsequently, to ease her parents’ frenzied, over-the-edge behavior they’ve been pulling.
Kill two birds with one stone, as they said.
So does dealing with business , Dad noted.
I didn’t bother on reaching out to them, and when they do, I answered them with short—one word—answers and a polite tone, vague exchanges then I excused myself on my personal business to finish.
With their cordial tones and gracious, tight-lipped smiles, what could be grander than outshining by their bad acting skills?
Her parents tried to send her at the gated entrance of the Rivers residence, sometimes Aaron’s, which it pissed Aaron to a certain degree in an upsetting conclusion regarding to invasion of privacy, only for Miss Curtis to discuss the plans regarding to the charitable event provided by the Rivers family, to help and distribute shelter and food the homeless who came here from the metropolitan cities.
Homeless folks were running out of options.
Unfortunately, access to expenses were impossibly challenging for poverty especially when prices are affordable.
She asked Aaron if he’s interested in facilitating others, giving the unfortunate better lives. Aaron didn’t hear a word she implied. Aaron, on the other hand, was deeply distracted at swirling bright colors on a wide TV screen.
I got the gist based on their discussions—Dad’s proposition—I was there, for once I wasn’t absent. Dad mentioned on meeting up with the priest, Father Divine—apparently he wants to be called ‘Father’ instead of his first name.
Each time she rambled, I didn’t bother to comply on playing by the script—just a short grunt poking and a simple head nodding at her direction, and to glance at her venomously, hidden with a tight-lipped smile.
Soon, Aaron noticed the actions, how I conversed, to the young, willing and ass-kissing Curtis.
“What the hell are you playing, anyway?” Emily asked with offense at Aaron.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Aaron shot back as his eyes remained on the screen like a kid.
I nearly laughed my ass off at her darkened expression.
Whenever she chitchats, syllables she pronounced, being annoyingly talkative, announcing in long vowels and smacking her lips with spicy-flavored Cheetos , without a taking a single break, white noise eclipsed and reminiscent Eva—the first time I met her, rather encounter her, following her every step.
Due in busy hours, I can’t do much but to stay on the sidelines and watched her as girls flocked to me—Mom wanted a proper girl with proper manners, despite her complaints.
All girls flocked whichever path I went, cried my name into the skies, but one I anticipated for wasn’t present—hidden in plain sight.
Like her ghostly presence danced and touched me, infected it’s yearn, spread throughout my body, blood rushing in my veins, and I sought a ghostly yearn, hoping.
How the veil on her head fluttered when she walks, a soft-spoken persona she carried herself, her gentled touch and the eyes, glimpsing her peers and adults alike with paleness of her emerald hues, carrying a Bible in her hands, rain or shine.
Sometimes, I could perceive her voice, fumed at my attempts to garner her attention, separating from religious undertaking.
Maybe you should try to be respectful for once, and stop acting like you’re God , she said to me, placid expression, but her na?ve tone poked disturbance, and I upset her.
Nearly burst to a chuckle at a past conversation with Eva, I locked my emotions in as soon as Miss Curtis’s attentive eyes pierced, being bored from trying to catch Aaron’s attention, shifted the gaze back to me.
To Aaron’s cue, he made an excuse of saying Aaron’s parents were severely strict to curfew.
Truth be told, his parents were never once pissed—Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw are chill kind of parents—the cool parents with cool parenting style without trying too hard, not a total poser who often dressed like teenagers on the social media app, dying for attention and a rage-bait.
As long as Aaron announced where he’s going and what his activity, they’re super chill, and mostly, I stayed longer at his place.
Though Aaron was taking a break from college, and was house-sitting for his parents for couple days.
They’ll pay him after getting back from two-week vacation to Europe.
By then Europe is already in summer, and Aaron is okay, and no one’s standing in his way.
The way she articulated was overly-confident and an underlying in condescending tone—her choice of words irked, poked me to places I couldn’t imagine, and it struck a nerve ten times worse than Mom ever defined on her daily routine, or receiving a massive headache from a night’s ultimate bash.
By the following days in the Rivers Foundation, a campaign set in a large town, and Dad’s mission has accomplished.
What a wonderful time to settle the problem once again.
Eva hasn’t been seen since the party I hosted at the underground at night—after an hour of commotion, an argument between my parents and me—stone-faced Bjorn on the sidelines.
Something else told me I required beyond expectations than an answering coming from her lips.
Her endearing eyes—her emerald gaze—pierced to me, my own soul—as if I had one, but for a moment, it felt like I did.
Like the Grinch, whose heart grown five times the size past from a tiny-pebbled stone of his heartless heart, or Patrick Bateman when sparing the harmless victim from becoming as a special dinner, or how my limped cock stirred at her angry voice and had to jerk off in the shower.
Aggravating as it was, I asked several folks to where she was.
To no avail, or a shock, people ignored me, thinking that I was screaming to anyone who might spare their time to entertain me.
In midway, I stopped asking for people and searched in my own terms. I assumed she’s somewhere around near in Fort Heaven, considering the extent population.
I figured she hasn’t gone off on a deep end, but to my knowledge, she’s gone off the radar excellently, until the prestigious charity event held at the Divine Miracles Church, assuming the church staff assisted the homeless and sick.
Nuns, included.