Antichrist

She takes a long pause. She needs to hurry before I lose my focus and allow my legs to stop. I’m not a fan of exercise, but in my defense this time, that isn’t the only reason why I’m running.

“I met him on the corner of a busy street. Or rather, I ran into him. He had bright-blue eyes, soft olive skin, and impeccable features. He was almost too good to be true. That kind of perfection just shouldn’t ever exist, and it certainly didn’t where I came from. I didn’t see this kind of life until later, after I had graduated with my psychology degree.

“‘Sorry,’ he said, his hands coming to my upper arms to stop me from falling. I noticed the gold rings, the expensive tailored suit, and the shiny loafers. I couldn’t walk past the hair either, or the way it shone against the orange streetlights. Music drifted around me, people were laughing, and kids were playing on the street, but all I saw was this man with a smile that made my guts feel like they fell out my ass! I mean, really, why the fuck did someone this perfect exist? ‘I didn’t mean to’—he waved his hands around me—‘interrupt your night.’ I shook my head to tell him no, but I’m pretty sure words caught in my throat and refused to come out.

“‘You didn’t,’ I said finally. His eyes went from my left eye to my right, to my mouth, and back again. My god, but he was stunning. And that was it. He asked me if I wanted to join him for dinner, and we sat under the dark night until the sun rose the next morning. He was perfect. Perfect for me, but I knew it would never last, because when he found out what had happened to me, he would never want me. Who would? I was used goods. Trash. Disposed of like you would a piece of trash, but that wasn’t all—because he wasn’t just tall, dark, and handsome. He was also—”

Mira’s name flashes across my phone screen, and I swipe to answer. “Hey.”

“Hey, chica! I’ve been worried about you.”

I stop running and flick the sweat off my forehead, slowing to a walking pace. I was almost back to the Cathedral anyway. Since the whole drama last night of Luca dying and Niko and Ari coming clean with their bullshit, I haven’t wanted to talk to anyone, and I haven’t wanted to leave. As much damage as this place has on me, there’s a comfort that comes from it. It’s familiar. I’m not ready to go back to the loft, and I don’t think I ever will be. I made a mental note to send it over to a realtor and put it on the market.

“I know,” I say, catching my breath. “I’m really sorry. I’ve just had a lot going on.” Understatement of the century.

“It’s okay. I just want to check in. I heard Luca left to go abroad with his father on some mission. Shall we meet up for drinks?”

I reach the entry to the Cathedral. How fucking long was I gone? Security guards are sanctioned at the entry of the gate, only different from the ones Luca and his father had.

“I’m okay. It was for the best.”

“Hate to say it.” Mira sighs.

No, she doesn’t hate to say it, because she has made it her mission to always say it since he and I started “dating” as teenagers.

“But I agree. It’s almost like a dark cloud has left, and I’m so glad that he has gone. Cece is too, obviously!”

Cece. I wince, stopping my walk altogether.

“Crap. Is she okay? I haven’t responded to her texts either.”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, but I think so.”

“Okay, well, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I’m ready for those drinks!”

“Sounds good.” Mira hangs up on me, and I shove my phone back into my pocket, raising a brow at Jer who is walking out the doors to the church.

“I don’t much want to talk with you right now.”

“I know you’re mad,” Jer says. “But hear me out.”

I fold my arms in front of myself and rush him with a wave of my hand. “I’m listening.” Removing my AirPods, I push them into my jacket pocket.

“Come inside, baby girl. There are people waiting for you.”

I watch as Jer’s back disappears back through the doors. I stand for a few more seconds, taking in things I never noticed before. Like the cars, for one. A Rolls Royce, a Bentley, and blacked-out SUVs. There are still four motorcycles parked haphazardly around the place, and farther to the right of all of the cars is a white Mercedes G-Class SUV. The number plate reads PRCHER. I look back to the black Ferrari and the plate on that reads ANTICST.