Love,Written In Ruins-Chapter 23: My Friend Is In A Hurry
The sky was the color of old bruises outside Jayla’s window when Eloise finally finished the breakfast ritual—the symbolic last meal before her disappearance. Jayla watched her friend with a grim, protective intensity that Eloise rarely saw.
"Go," Jayla said, her voice dropping to a low, decisive register. "Shower. Pack the go-bag I made you. You leave at 10 AM sharp when the trains are packed and no one’s looking."
Eloise nodded, throat too full for words. The time for sentiment was over; this was purely logistics now.
She showered until the water ran agonizingly cold, punishing herself for the fear and the unwelcome flashes of desire Luciano had ignited. She dressed in the plainest clothes Jayla owned—oversized, faded denim jeans, thick-soled sneakers, and a nondescript dark gray hoodie pulled up to cover her hair. She felt like a ghost of her former self.
She stuffed the small backpack with the bare essentials and the wad of cash Jayla had pressed into her hands, insisting she keep her own savings safe for later. "You keep the money, El," Jayla had instructed. "This is emergency cash. It may be useful later. Don’t argue."
At 9:15 AM, they left the apartment. Eloise moved with a strained calmness, every sense alert. The plan was simple: get to the LA Union Station and disappear into the crush of midday travelers.
They stood on the curb, the traffic roaring past, Jayla trying to hail a taxi. But every taxi that passed by was already taken, lights glowing with occupancy.
They stood there for long, agonizing minutes, the clock ticking, turning the last ten minutes of her freedom into a tense, agonizing countdown.
Finally, miraculously, an empty taxi arrived, pulling smoothly to the curb, its rooftop light gleaming. As Jayla grabbed the rear door handle, another hand—large, pale, and well-manicured—also closed firmly over the handle.
Jayla whirled around, instantly defensive, her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, sir," she said, her tone bristling with aggression. "I think you’ve got the wrong ride. We were here first."
The stranger stared at her, confused by the immediate hostility, and then let out a rich, warm burst of laughter that was utterly out of place on the tense street corner. He looked like he found the entire situation utterly charming.
"I’m sorry, Miss," he said, his voice deep and smooth, carrying a faint, cultivated Mexican accent. "But I think you are mistaken." He lifted a hand in a small, appeasing gesture.
Jayla stared at him like he was joking, her jaw set. "Look, we’ve been waiting for this ride for so long. My friend is in a hurry."
Eloise stepped in, placing a calming hand on Jayla’s arm. "Jay, it’s fine, let the man—"
"No!" Jayla cut her off, refusing to yield. "We waited so long! He just can’t come here and take the ride when you are in a hurry, El."
She turned back to the stranger with a look that clearly said, I don’t like you, and why would she? He hadn’t even had the courtesy to offer a ’ladies first’ rather he was competing with them for the ride. "I’m not giving this ride up for him."
The stranger chuckled again, shaking his head with an air of amused patience. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and showed them the screen. "I apologize, but I did not just ’come here.’ I ordered this specific ride five minutes ago on my app. See?"
Jayla’s expression slowly shifted from defiance to a deeply annoyed admission of error. She let go of the handle with a dramatic sigh.
Eloise, mortified by her friend’s aggressive display, stepped forward, pulling her hood down slightly in a gesture of humility. "I apologize once again, sir. We are truly sorry for the misunderstanding. We were a bit desperate."
The man waved her apology away with a reassuring smile. "No problem at all. It happens frequently in this city." He then opened the car door.
Just as he was about to get in, he paused, turning his attention to Eloise. He was tall, elegantly dressed in clothes that looked slightly expensive, and had a remarkably open, intelligent face. His hair was dark, precisely cut, and his eyes were a startling, kind hazel-green.
He was handsome, but in a classically reassuring way—not the sharp, dangerous beauty of Luciano. He radiated easy confidence and quietness, the kind of man who would hold a door for everyone and never raise his voice. He had a strong jawline, a gentle curve to his lips, and a presence that was immediately calming.
"I couldn’t help but overhear your friend mention you are in quite a hurry," the man said, his voice thoughtful. "If you don’t mind me asking, where are you headed?"
Jayla, still smarting from the loss of the ride, immediately snapped, "It’s none of your business, sir. You should get going."
Eloise whisper-yelled, "Jayla! Be polite!"
Jayla murmured back, "Why should I? He tried to steal our cab!"
"Jayla!" Eloise hissed, warning her.
Jayla rolled her eyes. Fine, I’ll be polite. Then she forced a tight brittle smile toward the stranger.
Ignoring the silent war happening beside him, Eloise turned to the stranger and answered simply, "LA Union Station. We’re heading to the train station."
The man’s face brightened genuinely. "Great! That is exactly my direction. If you don’t mind, you can join me since you are in such a rush. I would be glad for the company."
Jayla’s personality flipped so fast the instant she realized the offer was free that Eloise nearly choked on her surprise.
"Oh Great!" Jayla chirped, suddenly beaming. "Now I’m starting to like you! Get in, El, quickly! We accept your kind offer!"
The man chuckled again, a deep, pleasant sound, shaking his head in disbelief at Jayla’s audacity, and politely slid into the back seat, moving over to give Eloise space.
Eloise was about to call her friend out on her shocking turnaround in manners, but Jayla was faster. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
"Keys," Jayla said, holding out her palm to Eloise.
Eloise fished the matte-black car fob from her pocket. The tiny silver fox charm glinted between them like a final warning in the morning sun. Jayla closed her fist around it, the metallic contact sharp.
"I’m going to take this thing to every club and drive-through in the city," Jayla vowed, her eyes fierce. "By tonight, every tracker he has will think you’re living your best hot-girl life on a city tour."
She hesitated, then pulled Eloise into one last crushing hug. It was a fierce embrace that squeezed the air from Eloise’s lungs, full of desperation and love. "I love you more than pancakes, El. Don’t forget that. Be safe."
Eloise clung to her, breathing in Jayla’s scent—roses, and home, the last safe things in her world. "I love you more than anything," she whispered, and it felt like the truest thing she’d ever said.
Jayla pulled back, wiped the tears that had somehow leaked from her eyes, and forced a ferocious grin. Then she shoved a baseball cap low onto Eloise’s head, pulled the hood of the sweatshirt up over the cap, and pressed a final, firm kiss to her forehead.
"Go. Disappear. Don’t look back, even if you hear sirens."
Eloise stepped into the taxi, settling beside the man. Her heart was hammering so loud she was sure the entire taxi, driver and passenger included, could hear the frantic rhythm of her fear and excitement.
The taxi pulled away from the curb. Eloise twisted in her seat, watching as Jayla stood there until her familiar form vanished entirely from view, swallowed by the morning rush.
The man, observing the painful farewell in the rearview mirror, finally broke the silence.
"Pardon my rudeness, but I’ve got to ask," he said gently, his tone non-invasive. "You must be going very far away, considering your interaction. It seemed you wouldn’t be seeing each other for a long while."
Eloise nodded, composing her face quickly. "Yes, I will be gone for a while. A long while." She took a deep breath, forcing a sense of normalcy. Then she turned to him and managed a tired smile. "I apologize once again, and thank you for sharing your ride with me. It really means a lot."
The man smiled warmly, the hazel-green eyes crinkling at the corners. "No worries at all. I’m glad I could help. In fact, you saved me from a boring ride alone." He offered a small, polite bow of his head. "By the way, the name is Edward."
"Nice to meet you, Edward. I’m Eloise."
Edward smiled fully now, his expression easy and flattering. "Nice name for a beautiful lady, even with the mysterious hood and baseball cap."
The rest of the ride was quiet, save for the hum of the engine. Edward seemed perfectly content with the silence, scrolling through an article on his phone, the image of a polite, successful businessman.
When they got to LA Union Station, the place was a chaotic flood of people, just as Jayla had planned. Eloise was quick to get out. She thanked Edward again, quickly pulling her backpack onto her shoulders.
She practically ran inside and went to the busiest kiosk to buy her ticket—a one-way trip to a small city five hundred miles away.
After securing her ticket, she made her way through the gates and onto the designated platform. She boarded the train, found her window seat in the nearly full carriage, and sank into the scratchy fabric, pulling her hood even lower. She placed the small bag at her feet and tried to breathe.
A few moments later, someone sat in the seat facing hers across the small table.
It turned out it was Edward.
He looked up from settling his own small bag and offered a wide, charming smile. "Well, well. We meet again. It’s like fate wants us to be friends, or at least traveling companions."
Eloise managed a faint smile in response, her heart rate spiking again. She quickly turned her head, looking around the crowded platform to see if Luciano or his men were anywhere nearby to stop her escape.
The tension was paralyzing. She only breathed out when the train doors gave their final thunk and the clock showed it was three minutes until departure.
She pulled out her Air Pods, put them on, and hit play on Katseye’s ’My Way’—a track of defiant independence, turning the volume high. She closed her eyes, letting the music fill the ringing void of her anxiety.
She was going to be free in three minutes.
But then, the freedom was violently interrupted.
Someone suddenly, silently, put a cold plastic cup in her hand. The cup was heavy, condensation slicking the sides. Before she could react, the person removed one of her Air Pods from her ear.
She opened her eyes, instantly alert, and found a tall, ornate plastic cup in her hands—an ice coffee, complete with a dome of whip cream on top. She initially thought it was Edward, being friendly and observing her obvious panic.
She opened her mouth to say she didn’t need it when she suddenly sensed something was terribly wrong. The energy in the small space had changed. The air had gone cold. Someone was sitting beside her. Not across from her. Beside her.
She turned her head to the left, slowly, carefully, dread pooling like ice in her stomach.
And the air left her lungs completely.
.
"Yes, sir."
"And Marcos?"
He stopped mid-step. "Yes?"
Luciano didn’t look at him. His gaze stayed locked on the perfect, pale white of the lilies.
"If something should happen to her... under your watch." He flicked ash from the cigar, his voice turning cold enough to frost steel. "If a single hair on her head is harmed by anyone other than me, I will have your heads. All of you. Do you understand?"
Marcos swallowed hard. "Understood, Boss."
Then he left, his footsteps fading quickly into the night, leaving Luciano alone with his cigar, his past, and the profound, terrifying realization that Eloise had already found a way to climb his walls without even trying.
