Chapter 9 With Bated Breath

◆ ... He pressed his fingers around the soft flesh of her pale, supple neck, his grip tightening as jealousy pumped anger through his veins with implacable force. "If you didn't want him anymore, why would you lie to me?" "No- S-Stop!" The woman's face turned a pallid pink shade as she tried to free herself from his deathly clasp. Her skinny arms flailed, constantly slapping his while muffled choking sounds escaped her bloodstained mouth. "I ask you a simple question, and all you tell me is lie after lie." "I'm sorry..." His hand clenched around her neck as jealousy prolonged his rage, his ego sorely bruised by her deceit and unfaithfulness. "You know I hate lies!" "I'm sorry! Please! Enough!" ... When something hard and small pricked his neck, Miles dismissed the mental image of Mykaela's face turning a dimmer shade of white as she begged for her life. He shook the thought away, forcing the disturbing images to the back of his mind. It was his most recent dream. Violent. Vivid. Oddly familiar voices. "Anal orifice! Am I talking to myself here?" RJ threw more peanuts at him. "What?" Miles chuckled and flipped him off. The next moment, he found himself recalling his sinister dream last night: Kel was in bed with him, crying and arguing with him about something, until he found himself lunging at her neck, choking her into unconsciousness. It was his first vivid dream among the blurry, disorganized ones he'd been having all week. Peculiar would be one way to put it. Or it could just be plain old jealousy messing with his subconscious. Jealousy over Mykaela talking to her ex again. He didn't need a shrink to confirm it. Miles held back a scowl. It was none of his business; he knew that. But he just hated the thought of her subjecting herself to fatal depression again. He liked being there for her when she badly needed company then, but he had no intentions of watching her become unhealthy, depressed, and self-destructive again. The breakup was not a mutual understanding as far as he knew. "Leaving him was the right thing to do," he used to tell her. The trauma, guilt, and depression altogether-it almost reached apocalyptic heights. So Kel ended it before things got worse. The fact that it was her own volition to be involved with Andrew, and the unfortunate reality that almost everyone who knew the guy thought she was a certified home-wrecker, had definitely damaged her already strained relationship with her parents. Another thing he could relate to. For months, he'd kept telling her to stay away from the guy. But Mykaela's feelings for the famed matinee idol seemed as stubborn as a damn mule. "Drink up, lightweight." Miles pocketed his phone and snickered at his best friend, intrigued by Paul's derisive tone and fast-draining bottle of cheap beer. It was tradition that they hang around after everyone else left. But he had an inkling his best friends called him up for other reasons. "Not even two hours in and you're already drunk as fuck." Paul, the most sober one among the three of them, eyed his messy, junk food-filled living room and threw some popcorn bits at RJ, who was probably about to pass out on the couch now. "Now I gotta drive both of you home." "I'd rather choke on my hangover puke than let you drive." RJ swayed all the way to the fridge, still lively and annoying as heck. He pulled something out of the freezer and popped the cap off a bottle of white wine. "We're getting drunk with that? You're joking." Miles eyed the bottle with disgust. "Dreary me! I apologize for the lack of Sauvignons in our humble fridge, Your Highness." RJ even curtsied. He threw his blazer somewhere and carelessly poured them a glass of wine. He flumped back down on the sofa while his phone buzzed. "Exams burned you out good, huh?" Miles grinned. RJ only smirked. "Good and fast," Paul cut in before shaking his blonde head of hair. He glared at their inebriated friend. "He asked you to drive him home, like, ten minutes ago." "This is me every day in med school. Chill out." RJ turned up the music. "You're ruining my vibe." He snickered at Paul's scowl. "You heard from Niccolo?" he then asked. "No. You?" Paul's brows scrunched up. "No. Why?" Miles tried not to frown. "Nothing." "Why would he contact me?" "I dunno. Just a hunch." Paul glanced away and cleared his throat. "So the cops didn't know he blackmailed you?" "Dunno. Don't care." "So how's things? With you two?" "You two?" Miles reclined in the loveseat, his second beer bottle growing warm in his hand. He'd promised Kel he wouldn't party it out like a rockstar tonight. In fact he'd kept it below the 'three bottles, three shots' mark. "Haven't seen her since your last art show," Paul mumbled while texting. Miles glanced around the room. Their other friends had gone home an hour ago. Empty bottles, smelly ashtrays, and wasted party foods cluttered the table. Clean up time. "Yeah. Where's Kel?" RJ put on a sad face. "Miss her." "Hectic. Told her to rest." "So, what's the deal?" RJ asked when the living room fell silent. Party music still pounded within the studio-type apartment, but when they all hushed up, the place felt dead as a lonely pub past dawn. "Deal?" Miles checked his phone again, confused and growing impatient. Kel wasn't picking up. He texted her ten minutes ago. Still no replies. Perhaps she fell asleep on the bus now headed to his place? "Startin' to think she's why you barely see us anymore." "What?" Miles looked to RJ. Now Paul just belted up. If looks could kill, RJ would be on the floor by now, gushing blood through the seven orifices of the head. RJ could be so inappropriate at times once he drank past his limit. "Balls-deep in research and anatomy books but I haven't been living under a rock, just FYI." RJ drank more wine. Miles snorted. "Are you really askin' if she's my girlfriend?" "Then why's she still living with you?" RJ squinted at him with another smirk. "She just likes the neighborhood that much?" "We have an arrangement," Miles replied flatly. "And?" "She's savin' up for school. Told her to live with me, split the expenses, blah blah blah..." Miles droned on while waiting for his phone screen to gleam. "Who cares?" he muttered. "Your parents, mi hijo." RJ emphasized the term of endearment with a poor accent. "Mi hijo is Spanish, dumbass." Miles chuckled. "Folks still call you 'mio bambino'?" Paul grinned. "So she's like..." RJ went on, slurring his words now. His glass of wine spilled small splotches on Paul's carpet every time RJ shifted in his seat. "Your paramour." Kept woman? Mykaela? Did he ever treat her like one? Miles scowled at his friends, intrigued as to why their line of questioning had turned particularly meddling. "You talk to her parents yet?" Paul lit a cigarette. "Yeah." Miles furrowed his brows. "What'd they say?" "Are they, like, straight-up Catholic, too?" RJ muttered with another slanted grin, his pinkish cheeks glistening with sweat under the dimmed lights. "Like your folks?" "Yeah. So?" Miles shrugged. "They're cool with it?" "She's only stayin' with you till she saves enough money for school?" Paul butted in. "She applied for a scholarship again." Miles looked away. It had been weeks since Kel traveled to London to submit her application for that scholarship program. Probably the fifth time she applied for a med school scholarship here in Europe. Had she received any news from the university? "Oh?" RJ raised his neat brows. "She's still a registered Med. Tech. Right?" "Yeah. Two years left, then she'll be done with med school and start residency." "Heard her ex is in town. The actor." Paul smirked at RJ. "Uh-oh!" RJ faked a gasp. "Stalker alert. Update please!" "Met him the other day." Miles cleared his throat. "How? Where?" "Hotel. After her shoot, he followed her around for hours." "So you had to play the rebound?" Paul laughed and raked his skinny fingers through his fine blond hair. "Tried helping, but...hopeless case." Miles pretended to drink more beer, then placed the bottle on the coffee table as he kept glancing at his phone beside him. Was she still on the bus? Kel hadn't texted back. He wasn't worrying about nothing. At times her claustrophobia acted up in the most unexpected situations. The anxious thoughts only stopped when his phone trilled, displaying a new message from her. 1 New Message From: Mykaela "I'm ok. D's driving me home. Sorry late reply." Received 11:09PM ◆ ◇ "You told him I drove you home?" Drew inched closer to her as they sat by the flowerbed. The unsure look on his face narrowed his dark-lashed eyes. "Texted him." Kel glanced around and appreciated the ample lighting from the tall posts. Drew's car, the SUV he'd rented, was parked near the entrance of the private subdivision. For security reasons, she didn't tell Andrew to drop her off in Miles' lot. It wasn't like she didn't trust him; she just didn't want to inconvenience Miles and his much valued privacy in any way. "He's still with friends." She pulled a face. "You'll be driving till late. Sorry." Now Drew had to drive back to Milan at this hour because of her. "You know I like driving at night." He chuckled. "Coffee? For the drive," she muttered. Drew stood in front of her. "There's a coffee place 'round here? Cappuccino sounds nice." He grinned, his arms on either side of her thighs now, his baritone voice inviting and friendly. A quick nod was her only response. Her heart almost stiffened at the sight of him being so close, his shadowed eyes looking directly into her own. Mykaela sat still. The shock almost made her flinch, but she put on a small smile to show him their sudden closeness didn't surprise her with paralyzing self-consciousness. For hours, they'd been sitting together in the car, but he had not been this intimately close. It left her speechless for a moment. "But you don't like coffee," Drew recalled with a frown when she kept mum. He backed away, thankfully, then stood before her. "I just wanna buy you coffee." She held back a smile and stayed on the stretch of cement that housed rows of pink and white hydrangeas. "Didn't have to drive me all the way here." "Don't be weird, Mykaela..." Drew sat beside her again. He looked to the fenced guard house inside the tall gates securing the subdivision's perimeter. "So I can't come in 'cause I don't have a resident's sticker on my car?" "Sticker and ID. They're pretty strict." She waved at the guard standing behind the front gates. "They won't let me in even though you're with me?" "Yup. Residents only." She regarded the empty, noiseless road before them. Although she'd lived here for months now, she couldn't accurately describe every inch of their private neighborhood. Put it simply, it was a peaceful place she called home whenever she needed an escape from the suffocating hustle-and-bustle in the big city. She stared back at her date tonight. His semi-formal outfit made him look more like an accountant rather than a highly paid Hollywood actor. Still, he was one of the most handsome men she'd met in her life. It was no surprise he had a growing list of admirers internationally. Plus the fact that the guy could act. He didn't particularly enjoy the fame, though, or so he said. "Is he the jealous type?" Drew mumbled. "Miles? Nah." "Sure?" "Worries too much sometimes, but...he's cool." Kel made an effort to sound pleasant and casual, hoping they'd skip the "new boyfriend" talk and just enjoy each other's company for the meantime. If and when they'd get to see each other again, she had no definite idea. All it took was one night of dinner to make her realize Drew was still a friend. She didn't want that to change. Despite her misgivings, he easily made her feel comfortable and appreciated. Just one of his admirable traits. "He always puts in the effort," she reasoned to Miles and Jill once or twice. Andrew was just the type of guy who knew how to make her laugh, as much as she thought Miles was the new best friend she didn't ask for. Drew's replacement, in some way. "Why don't you just finish med school in New York?" Drew shifted to face her, the moonlight and lampposts casting shadows over his chiseled features. "You hate New York now?" His lips curved into a smile that disappeared sooner than she could return it. Her gloomy reaction must've told him enough. "NYU rejected my application before." "Oh. Sorry." He carefully put his hand on her shoulder. "No more plans to go back?" "Really need money. It's why I tried working here. I still need to save up a lot," she replied. "Cried a little when I got that rejection letter." "Understandable." "Before that, Jill called to tell me dad's back in the ICU." Kel let out a sigh. "Pretty shitty day till we had a bite of that steak." "Sorry," Drew muttered, his forearm now resting on his bent knee as he sat with her under the bright moonlight. "You could try other universities. Called your mom yet?" "Maybe in the morning." Kel sighed. "I'll just end up feeling like total crap again if she starts crying 'cause I can't be home," she muttered. "Jill's with them now." "Take a week off work. I can come with you." His straightforward proposition near made her mouth drop open. Kel stared back. Was he just being friendly? Or... "I got nothing scheduled till next weekend." Drew added a quick shrug. He made a face when she failed to respond. "Or not." He cleared his throat and looked away. "I hope your dad's okay." "You're too nice sometimes," she said. The realization slipped a pinch of guilt into her chest. She hugged her coat, her smile probably contrived. "Sorry." "For what?" "Ignoring your emails." Her muttered apology made him chuckle. "Better late than never, K." Dimples deepened on the sides of his lips when he kept grinning. "Really. Thank you." "And thank you for seeing museums in me, where I saw empty hallways." Andrew got up and stared at her, smiled, then offered his hand. "Let's get that coffee." ◇ Saying goodbye to Andrew took longer than expected. When he finally got in the car and exchanged goodbyes with her, Kel headed straight to Miles' house. She retreated to the warm confines of her bedroom-the bigger one among his guest rooms. Then she immediately rang her sister's number. Clutching her phone, she waited for the ringing noise to end, eager to hear her sister's voice again. "How's Dad?" "A little better, but..." Jill's voice thinned before she paused. "The doctors don't recommend surgery." Kel scratched her forehead at the discouraging news. "Still under heavy meds. He's unconscious most of the time." Jill sighed, her long exhale making static noises over the line. "You coming home? Mom keeps asking." "I'll call her," Kel muttered, unsure of what else to say. "What else did the doctors tell you?" "Nothing you'd like to hear." They both fell silent afterwards. Her sister's reply just filled her eyes with more tears. Kel hugged her pillow. She actually missed home. She missed her dad, his often gruff voice, seeing his graying head of hair bowed behind their living room altar, his caring demeanor and generous advice, as well as the air of quiet but respectable authority he always had. Was he going to recover? He'd been in hospitals way too many times she'd long forgotten the count. At the moment, all she could do was pray he wasn't suffering that much. "But he needs surgery?" "The tumors are growing. They're trying to shrink them with meds and chemo," her sister replied with another sigh. "You okay?" "I wanna fly out, but...I still have commitments." "I'm not rushing you," Jill reasoned with a gentler voice. "But, soon as you can. Okay?" "Okay." Sniveling, Mykaela wiped away more tears, her blanket covering her from neck to toe now. Her pitch-black room remained soundless when she didn't speak for a while. "Thanks, for taking care of stuff." "David's here to help me with Meesha. He took time off work. Thank God." Lying on the right side of the bed, she kept her phone pressed to her ear, enjoying the warmth her thick blanket provided. Her eyes stayed shut until she heard a car park in front of the house. Miles. Finally home. Not the usual time he got home, but it was him. His BMW's engine just had that distinct revving sound. Mykaela glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 1:29AM. Was he driving under the influence? She was pretty sure he had a good time with his friends. "You in bed?" Jill's voice over the line sounded groggy now. "It's like, way past midnight over there." "Yeah. Call you tomorrow." "Wait. D told me you got a letter from the university." Already? Were they text buddies now? "Were you just on the phone with him?" "Yeah. He called. I just put Meesha to bed, so..." "How's baby bear?" Kel smiled at the thought of her baby niece. "Bigger. Heavier. I think she's blonde." She giggled. "Cute. Send me another video." "Remind me tomorrow. Hold up. About that letter from the university." "Is my birthplace really Tallahassee?" Kel muttered while she waited for a car door to open and shut. Instead of Miles' voice, she heard another guy downstairs mumbling something about locks and keys. Paul, probably. "Someone from UCMLE questioned my background sheet." "Questioned?" Jill echoed a little louder. "You submitted CTCs, right?" "Of course." "Just your birth records? What'd the letter say?" "I'll email a copy." Mykaela rubbed her eyes dry of tears, glad that she didn't feel like crying anymore. Talking to her sister always had that calming effect on her. "It was like a warning, really. Ruined my morning." "I'll check it out tomorrow. Go to sleep." "Thanks." "Call me." Jill said goodbye and hung up. For a quiet minute, Kel listened for any other noises from outside. The front door opened. She could hear enough; her room was directly above it. Heavy, dull noises of metal hitting against metal followed. The door sounded like it was already being locked from the inside. His best friend must be sleeping over tonight. It wasn't often that Miles had friends over, and he seldom let anyone else in his house. Paul must've been drinking, too. Not in the mood to say hi or socialize, Kel put her phone away, ignored the shuffling noises from the living room. She buried herself under the padded blanket. Anxious thoughts about her dad's hospitalization still disturbed her peace of mind from time to time, and now, she'd need longer than a few minutes to fall asleep. She started her night routine with a prayer she'd memorized way back in Catholic school, her eyes shut tight again. Four prayers in and she was already fighting off yawns, surprisingly. Her eyes remained closed for another minute until the doorknob twisted. The door slowly opened, making discreet noises that made her brows crease. Miles? ◇