CHAPTER 8

As the dusk had encased around the beach. The sun slipped below the horizon, enveloping the water with streaks of orange afterglow. She stood by the car, caught by the tail end of the day—it was just perfect with Axel. The soft breeze tugged at her hair, but she barely noticed, lost in streams inside her mind.

Axel stood beside her, his hands in his pocket, looking as relaxed as the calmness of the whole day that they had shared. He looked down at her with a smile, sincerity oozing from his tone. "I had a great time today, Jayla."

Jayla returned the smile, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Me too," she said softly. "Thanks for everything. It was. perfect."

Axel’s smile widened. He stepped a little closer, leaning in just enough to make her heart skip. For a second, she wondered if he might kiss her. Instead, he reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers grazing her cheek lightly. “You’re something else, Jayla.”

Her breath caught, and she felt weightless for a second. She moved fast into the laughter to cover the nervousness. "I could say the same to you."

At that Axel retreated, the smile still pulling at his lips as he turned to his car. "Take care of yourself. Get home safe.".

"You too!" Jayla called after him. She looked on as he got into his car, and when he had done so, and his taillights were gone down the road, there she still was, just smiling to herself. Her feet were on the ground yet it was as if she were floating; everything around her that he touched softened by the magic of the evening.

As Axel drove home, the cool night air rushed through the opened window, but his mind remained on the road, stayed with Jayla, her smile, her the less-than-labored way they connected. He found himself laughing aloud, shaking his head. She was different, refreshing.

His musings were cut short as he realized there was movement ahead of him. On the darker, more secluded street, quivering shadows would appear at the peripheral of his line of vision. As his car moved closer, he saw three men huddled over a woman. She fought back, but her movements became slow and labored, and the men showed growing boldness.

Axel's heart jumped and he stamped the foot to the brakes, the wheels responding as it turned onto the side of the road. He leaped out without even bothering to close the door behind him, his pulse pounding in his ears.

"Hey! Let her go!" his voice boomed across the road as he ran towards them.

The men turned, startled, but only for an instant. In a heartbeat, surly defiance laced their faces. One of them stepped forward. "This isn't your business, man. Get lost."

Axel could say nothing, but he moved, his fist smashing against the jaw of the man until it sent him flying backward. The other two were diving on Axel's back, but he was prepared, and his body was in auto mode, all the punches and sidesteps seemed instinctive. The woman, Jasmine, was fighting too, though she was much weaker.

Axel seized one of the men and slammed him into the nearest waste bin. Jasminne gathered up the last remnants of her strength and, with her elbow, hit the third man in his diaphragm; he then hunched over in pain. The other two men looked into each other's eyes, out of place. And in the next second, they were running, vanishing into the night.

Axel gasped, yet his gaze continued to stay upon their figures which disappeared. Then he turned to where Jasmine slumped against the wall; her breathing was in shuddering gasps. Bruises circled the skin of her face, but her eyes remained pristine. Still sharp, still determined.

"You okay?" Axel asked, taking a step toward her.

Jasmine nodded but a slight wobble came into her legs. "I'm fine. thanks to you." She winced as she fought to stand up straight, now softer, trembling. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up.

Axel laid a steadying hand on her arm. "Let's get you out to your car. You look like you could use a rest."

Jasmine smiled slightly, her knees weak, but with Axel holding her up she could move. She walked to her car and let herself rest against it for a minute, breathing short little breaths, but her eyes shone clear with relief.

"Thanks," she panted, for it was over now and her voice shook. "What is your name?

"Alexander," he said, with the smallest smile reassurance thrown her way. "Just doing what anyone would have done."

"Well, thank you, Alexander," Jasmine finally said, controlled, as she looked up at his face. "You owe me one for that. I'm Jasmine, by the way."

They exchanged smiles; some things were said yet remained unsaid. Axel nodded towards her car. "Get home safe. And maybe. Get that leg checked out," he added, noticing the slight limp in her step.

Jasmine mustered a tired smile, finally succumbing to the exhaustion. "Yeah, I will. Thanks again. Really."

He turned back to his car with that, revving it up and hitting the roads with his heart still racing. It was not an evening well planned, but he felt somewhere inside that by the time he'd driven off, he had done something right.

Driving home, her hands shook slightly on the wheel as bruises on her face ached, events of that night replaying themselves in her head—those men, the fear, and then Alexander showing up out of nowhere like some sort of hero.

Alexander. She whispered the name inside her head. He was a stranger and, at that moment, her only savior. Her heart was racing from the adrenaline, but she felt relief layering on the fear, immense and almost overwhelming. As she tried to shake the remnants of panic off, hands tightening on the wheel, thoughts kept drifting back to how close it had all been. Too close.

It was only the effect of utter exhaustion that by the time she pulled into the driveway, every ounce of her entire body filled up. Her face hurt, and her limbs were heavy; there was not enough energy in her to answer calls from Jade and Jayla inside the house. She slipped through the front door, going right for the stairs without a word. Their voices followed her, but she didn't stop.

She had reached her room; the door swung shut behind her and she let herself fall on the bed. The silence of the night was heavy, thick around her like a blanket. In a moment she was sleeping, too tired to think more.

Downstairs, Jayla and Jade exchanged worried looks. Do you think what happened to her? Jayla asked her voice tight with worry.

"I don't know, but something is surely not right," Jade responded, now walking towards the stairs. "We need to check on her.".

They knocked softly at Jasmine's door. "Jasmine? You okay?" Jayla hushed out again, while her heart raced with each silently drugged moment.

No response.

Jayla knocked harder this time. "Jasmine, please open the door.".

Nothing yet.

Jade hrumphed, the well-set furrows of her face pressing deeper as she rapped harder.

Again, silence.

The two sisters stood face-to-face now, the edge of panic already rising. "Something's wrong," Jade whispered, her hand beginning to tremble as she reached for the door handle.

The door burst open the moment Jade turned the knob. Jasmine was on the other side, her face gone white, her eyes wide and wild with anger. Neither spoke, though, before Jasmine snapped the door in her face; the force of it sent Jade stumbling backward.

"Jasmine!" Jayla called out while the door slammed shut once again, echoing in the hallway.

Jade caught herself before she fell, her heart racing. Both sisters just stood there, frozen; the shock paralyzed them.

What's going on? Jayla shouted, her voice trembling as she became scared and confused.

But there was no answer except the silence behind the door.

But Jade just stayed there on the floor, her hand pressed against her chest as if taking unsteady breaths now. Still, she could hear Jayla at the door; she knocked again softly, her voice almost pleading. "Jasmine, please. Talk to us. What happened?"

But the room beyond the door was silent.

Slowly, shaking, Jade rose. She turned to Jayla, who wore an equal look of concern and confusion. Never had Jasmine been this way, never so closed, so far. There was something in between that was something big and dark, but what?

Jayla sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Let’s give her space for now. We’ll check on her in the morning,” she whispered, though uncertainty lingered in her voice. “Maybe she’ll calm down by then.”

Jade nodded but refused to make the tight knot inside her tummy go away. Something had gone wrong with Jasmine, and whatever that was, it was no good.

The two went downstairs again; there was a silence that could not be filled between them. Jade fell into her bed in her room, anchored to the present beside her phone. Her mind was very far from there.

Jade lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't get the image of Jasmine's pale face and the flash of anger in her eyes out of her mind. Her chest had this knot that refused to untangle. Her fingers tapped restlessly on the blanket beside her. Her softly buzzing phone immediately drew her back from the spiraling thoughts.

She squinted at the screen, then blinked hard in sudden surprise. A name had just flashed on: *Brock*.

Brock.

Her heart would have leaped up to her throat. Of everything she ever expected, this was not it—not after that last conversation sputtered its close. He showed up yet again, his name flashing across her phone.

She fumbled around and opened the message with some trepidation.

"Hey Jade, I'm sorry I've gone MIA. It's been a crazy week, and I just wanted to check-in. Are you still down for that exhibition we were talking about?

A faint, soft smile crept on her features against the heaviness of the evening: *He had remembered.*

Jade quickly typed out her response, much faster than her thoughts.

"You were seriously talking about that exhibition! I didn't know whether you were serious about that or not. But yeah, it did come into my mind yesterday… Of course, I am interested."

It almost came immediately - much sooner than she had expected.

"I mean every word, Jade. I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't." I look forward to seeing you there.

The smile grew broader as they easily chatted away, both of them moving on. They talked of the exhibition, of art—of all of the little details of life. Each message from Brock was an evasion from all that still lingered in her from the evening; lighter, easier.

At this, maybe, Jade thought, putting her phone down, maybe her chest a little warm with the tension. For one moment, Brock's texts let her forget the unease that had settled over the house.

She sat at her vanity upstairs, running a brush through her hair in long, slow, even strokes. The thoughts of Axel wouldn't leave her head. Since the weird moment with Jasmine, she'd run to her room seeking something normal, something solid. And that was Axel.

She could still feel his hand on her face, the softening of his smile as he looked at her. The memory of it fluttered her heart once more. He was kind and soft, and in those instants of time when he was close to her, nothing else seemed to exist outside their small world.

Jayla sighed softly, dropping her brush before she leaned back into the chair. She could still feel the ghostly touch of his fingers on her skin—the silent thrill of his brushing her hair away.

Could it be? she asked herself as her pulse quickened to the idea. Their connection had seemed too strong, too natural to be false. Rising, she whirled across the room, her arms circling out from her, her mind replaying their day together. The laughter, the exchanged glances, his eyes—lingering look into hers—replayed in her brain over and over.

Those thoughts were still filtering in her mind when suddenly her phone buzzed. Her heartbeat quickened, for Axel's name was flashing across the screen. "Hey. I've thought a lot about today… and haven't been able to stop smiling. Hope you made it home okay." 

Jayla smiled to herself as the warmth spilled through her, quickly hitting reply. "Ditto! I can't get my head out today, bro. Made it home in one piece, and I'm counting down the days to do this all over again." Her fingers hovered over the send button for a second, but deep inside, she knew it to be true.

 She couldn't wait until she saw him again. Then she hit the send, feeling giddy excitement bubble inside her. 

Meanwhile, Jasmine lay awake in her room, looking up at the ceiling. Her body felt drained, but her mind was adamant about not shutting down. Every time she closed her eyes, bits of the night's events replayed themselves behind her lids—the outlines of dark figures looming over her, their tugging hands, and a voice choking her at her throat. And then there had been Alexander; it felt almost like his presence had roped her out of that fear which had held her hostage just in time. 

The name resonated in her mind, and, sure enough, there was security in it. He had come from nowhere, angry and quick, protective, stirring something so deep inside of her. 

She leaned into her knees as she wrapped her arms around them, taking a deep breath to try and steady the shakes in her hands. 

She was safe in her bed now, but the fear stayed on. Her body ached; bruises throbbed with every smallest movement of her face, but it was the fear—the helplessness—categorically refusing to let her be. 

She pulled the blankets around her tighter, as if maybe she could hide from even that. She closed her eyes, but sleep would not be easy or free tonight. And the silent darkness of the room couldn't take away that which stuck to her skin that night. And she ran the scene again before her mind's eye: every time the faces of those men rose in memory, her pulse seemed a little quicker than before.

The light that filtered through the panes cast a gentle hue over the whole house. It gave one the impression, in the early morning hours, of quiet—but it wouldn't last long. 

The first to stir was Jade; the soft light spread across her face. She blinked against it, reaching for her phone. A new message sat there from Brock, and in her eyes lit a little smile. She peered at it, already plotting the exhibition she'd planned on going to later in the day, pushed the covers aside, and got out. 

Jayla rose next, stirring lazily in her bed. Her thoughts of Axel from earlier in the night still lingered in her mind to rest a soft smile on her face, but as she sat up, her mind segued back to Jasmine. The worrisome feelings of last night seeped into her consciousness, creeping in at the edges of her thoughts. 

Jayla threw on a robe and walked out of her room, padding down the hallway in bare feet. 

She came to a stop in front of Jasmine's door and stilled, knocking softly as she called, "Jasmine?" Her voice stayed careful and soft so as not to startle her. 

There was a long pause, and for a moment Jayla thought perhaps Jasmine had drifted back to sleep. Then she heard it—the soft creak of the door, the faint shuffling of feet. 

The door opened, creakingly slowly, and there she was: Jasmine. She looked pale, with her eyes hungover from the night before. More distinct now in the morning light was the bruising on the cheek, and she entered the hall sluggishly. 

I got something to say," Jasmine said low, her voice hoarse but steady. Jayla released a deep breath she had not realized she was holding in and gave her sister a little, small smile, reassuringly. "Alright. Let's have a seat."