From Darker Shores

Chapter 6 - Taken

I left the theatre with tears on my cheeks.

We just needed some space, I told myself, like Luca said. We'd give each other a couple of hours and then we'd talk it out. We were always able to talk it out. Right?

I made it up to West Forty-Second Street and caught a cab.

The cabbie was good enough not to ask why I was crying.

I sat in silence in the back, watching the lights of New York flash past as we headed over the bridge towards Williamsburg. Every now and again I would check my phone, hoping that Luca would have messaged me. He hadn't.

I thought about messaging him. I wrote and deleted a dozen messages and apologies.

Finally, I turned off the phone and threw it into my bag. I rubbed at my eyes, banishing the last of my tears.

Why hadn't I just told him at the start? I felt like a fraud and a liar and the worst thing was, I still didn't know what I wanted to do. My whole life I'd always had this picture in my head of what I wanted to do, what I wanted to be. Luca had been such a massive part of those plans for so long. But this was the biggest opportunity I'd ever had. Like he'd said, he didn't want to be the one to make me choose between him and my career. That was something I was going to have to do for myself and I didn't want to do it.

God, I just needed some fresh air, I needed to walk off all these feelings.

At a crossroads the cab stopped at a red light. "You can drop me anywhere here," I said, fetching my purse out of my bag.

"You sure Missy?" the cabbie asked, twisting around. "It's late. Streets aren't safe for a young girl on her own."

I reached out and paid him, trying to force a smile onto my face.

"I'll be fine. I live just a couple of blocks from here and I could use the walk." I pulled open the door. "Keep the change."

As the cab pulled away, I began to walk away from the bustle of the main streets, heading in the direction of the third floor flat Luca and I rented.

I only half-noticed the police car that passed me, heading in the other direction. 

The breeze felt good on my skin, my head clearer. Should I make breakfast for Luca and I tomorrow, as a sort of apology? Maybe I should go to the 7/11 to get pancake mix and syrup.

It wasn't until the police car turned around in the road and pulled up to the curb next to me that I really became aware of it.

I paused, unsure, looking around for the reason they had stopped. At this time on a weeknight Williamsburg was quiet, and apart from a few people smoking outside the bar at the end of the block, I was alone on the street.

When the car came to a halt, the passenger door opened and a cop with a thick brown moustache stepped out, one hand on his hat, the other on the hilt of the gun holstered in his belt.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," he said, tipping his hat to me. "But can I ask your name?"

However nicely he spoke I knew it was a command, not a question.

"Tori... sorry Victoria. Victoria Beaumont?" I said, uncertainly. I was so nervous I momentarily wondered if even my own name was right.

The cop nodded and took a couple of steps towards me.

I took a step back, suddenly confused. I didn't know what was going on.

"W-what's this about?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and my heart beating at a normal speed. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"