The Red Evening

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It felt surreal to be seated in Elijah's car, with his hand in mine, and on familiar roads that led us back to our home town. Most of the journey back home consisted of soft jazz music playing in the back ground, watching the snow blanketing the ground, and my last conversation with Art.

***

"Are you on crack or something?" I shouted as he charged into the room.

"I just found out one of my good friends is dead so forgive my anger," he yelled in mockery.

"Yes, mourn for a rapist," I said, coldy. "Seriously, get out."

"Look, I never thought highly of him but he was a friend. I headed to his place to talk to him, probably throw a punch or two for hurting you. I was around the corner when I saw someone leave his place. At first I thought it was him, but as I moved closer it was no where near the way he dressed. It was a tall, well dressed, clearly a rich man. Anyway, his door was open which was unusual. I walked into his room and it was empty but his bathroom light was on. I peaked around and saw my friend laying in the tub in a pool of blood. Eli was not suicidal. An overdose would've been more believable but not suicide. I ran out of his place and stalked the man that left his place. Guess where it led to?"

I looked away as I wrapped myself with my arms and shrugged.

"This hotel!" He snapped. "If I do the math, rich man with motive to murder plus being traced back to his location means he's the culprit!" He bellowed with certainty.

I wanted to yell at him for accusing of my boyfriend of a heinous crime, but a part of me couldn't fully defend Elijah. He was a strong-willed, stubborn, and devoted man. He wasn't going to let go of what had happened to me. It was naive of me to believe he'd push past that trauma without retaliating.

"I don't know what to say," I stuttered in anxiety.

Art placed his hand on my shoulder and tried to look directly into my eyes. "Tell me you believe me, because you do believe me. Right?"

I shrugged my shoulders and his arms fell to his side in defeat. "You're really going to protect him?"

I regained my composure and stood up straight. "Elijah wouldn't murder anyone. He wouldn't risk getting caught and losing me again." Despite me not completely doubting Art's story, my defense held truth. Elijah wouldn't want us to live apart again and all his future moves would be calculated to ensure that we remained together.

"I didn't want to make this personal but he tried killing me too," he said with no emotion.

I looked at him to see if there was any traces of sarcasm and when I realized he was serious, I laughed in derision. "So you really are on drugs," I confirmed as I headed to door, opening it.

He closed the door in annoyance. "I'm dead serious."

I stood an inch away from his face. "How then?" I barked.

"Do you remember the night you tried MDMA we stayed up all night talking about our lives?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Unfortunately."

"I told you about the time I got ambushed while transporting drugs that were stolen. While I was being beaten to near death, I passed out briefly from the pain. A bit after, I managed to regain some consciousness and vividly remember your boyfriend's face. I then blacked out again. I never thought I'd see him again. The second I saw him across the street that day he arrived, I wanted to run. I did. Now, I've grown the hell up and I'm going to destroy him. Not only did he almost kill me, he killed my friend."