Peep of Light

Chapter Eight

Camilla's POV

When the cops announce their presence, the typical response would be to rush to the door, eager for their protection. However, Amy and I found ourselves frozen in fear, still huddled on the bed, uncertain if it was truly the police or the man trying to deceive us.

"Come on, let's do it," Amy whispered, her voice trembling with every word. Despite her attempt at bravery, her quivering body betrayed her.

We rose from the bed, our legs shaking as if the floor might give way beneath us. Hands wrapped around each other, we cautiously approached the door. The slow creak of the door as we eased it open echoed through the house, intensifying the tension that hung in the air.

The sitting area remained untouched, just as we had left it in our frantic state. Murmured voices from the other side of the door resonated through the room, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that enveloped us.

Outside, life carried on unaffected, bustling and noisy, while we found ourselves trapped in a bubble of fear, with only the rhythmic ticking of the clock and our ragged breaths punctuating the stillness.

I took a deep breath and approached the door with cautious strides. Peering through the peephole, I caught sight of figures clad in black, their duty belts a clear indication of their identity.

With a trembling hand, I grasped the doorknob, released the latches, and slowly opened the door. The cops all turned their gaze towards me, a mixture of concern and professionalism etched on their faces.

............

"Any idea who that man was?" Amy whispered, sipping her espresso as she leaned across the table, anticipation hanging in the air between us.

"If I knew, I'd have told the cops already," I snapped, slumping into my chair and rolling my eyes. The steam from my untouched cup of tea danced in front of me. Glancing past Amy at the groups of people chatting happily with family and friends, a twinge of envy pierced my irritation. They didn't have someone chasing them, threatening their lives.

What were the chances I'd ever find that man, let alone get the chance to confront him? Slim to none.

"You don't have to be rude, you know," Amy snapped, her hazel eyes boring into me with a fiery intensity. Her face was stony, her gaze unwavering—the first time I'd seen her truly angry.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, acknowledging my mistake. "It's just getting to me." I tightened my grip on my cup, trying to hide the tremble in my hands.

As I glanced up, her icy stare hadn't softened. I took in our surroundings—the small but charming café, the polished wooden table, the warm, earthy ambiance. The sound of children's laughter drifted through the air, and I hoped it would thaw the frosty tension between us.

"Amy, I'm sorry," I muttered, finally meeting her gaze. With a sigh, she released her anger and offered a curt nod before retreating into silent sips of her coffee. I knew I had to learn to be more considerate, but how could I when solitude had been my only companion for so long?

If I wanted to hold onto the one good thing in my life, I had to adapt.
My attention drifted to the window beside me, observing the bustling street scene that never seemed to slow.

The door chimed as a new customer entered, and the barista's warm greeting filled the café, reminding me of the importance of human connection.

When was the last time I'd felt truly at peace? Mere hours ago, someone had been threatening my life and sanity, and now I found myself sitting in a café, nursing a cup of tea. This wasn't peace—it was the aftermath of a turbulent night. What if next time I wouldn't have the luxury of sipping tea, with the man still on my trail?

Amy's foot made contact with my calf, prompting me to look at her with wide eyes and furrowed brows. In response, she subtly tilted her head towards the counter. Keeping my gaze locked with hers, I slowly turned to find a well-dressed man standing there. His white dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and he wore immaculately tailored black pants. A glittering watch adorned his wrist, and various rings decorated his left index and middle fingers.

I moved to turn away but found myself captivated by his piercing green eyes. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, then stop entirely. The sounds of the café faded into nothingness, replaced by the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat and the raggedness of my breath. As his lips curled into a smirk, I felt a sudden jolt, and my gaze tore away from his.

"Let's get out of here," I said hurriedly, grabbing my purse and tossing in my keys with fumbling fingers. Relieved that my tea had cooled, I took a hasty sip.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked, eyes wide as I realized Amy was still casually sipping her coffee, a mischievous grin on her face.

"You know him, don't you?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Now's not the time, Amy. Let's leave," I urged, gulping down the rest of my tea and wincing as some of it spilled from my lips.

A smooth, caramel-like voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hello, ladies." I watched as the man took a seat between Amy and me, a pleased grin on her face as she reveled in my discomfort.

"Mr. Alekseev, what are you doing here?," I said, forcing a measured tone as I placed my cup on the table and wrapped my hands around it. I regarded him with a neutral expression, though his predatory smile made me yearn to douse him in tea. A waste of good tea, perhaps, but oh-so-satisfying.

"Hello, Miss. It's a pleasure to meet you," he purred, turning his attention to Amy. She basked in his charisma, her smile radiant and saccharine, as though she were eyeing the world's most delectable delicacy.

"And you, my dear butterfly..." My body tensed as the name rolled off his tongue.

Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter ☺️