122. Three Years Ago

*‘Come down’*

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly goes dry as I read the text. A sense of déjà vu hits me with full force, shocking me to the core. 

I stand up immediately, my legs tremble as I walk up to my window and glance down at the street. A chill runs down my spine as I see an unfamiliar black colour car parked in the shadows of my street. 

*Just like three years ago.* 

My breath catches in my throat, and my skin turns cold as past trauma crawls back to my flesh, along with the haunted memories of that man.

*‘Whoz this?’*

My fingers quiver as I send the text with unsteady breaths. Pluses pound in my ears as I stare at my screen, waiting for the reply. 

Every waiting moment feels like a sharp dagger, cruelly pushing in me, and after a few painfully-slow seconds, the screen lights up with a message..

*‘You deleted my number?’*

A jolt of panic courses through me, freezing me in place as my worst nightmare comes alive. 

*Is it.. Is it..really him?* 

Suddenly, the phone vibrates in my hand and I gasp in terror at seeing the incoming call from the same unknown number. 

My heart rattles uncontrollable in my chest, thrashing in and out, unable to ignore the frightening power he has over me.

I hesitate, acutely aware that answering could unleash a torrent of painful memories I have fought so hard to conquer.

*Be a woman..*

Ana’s voice echoes in mind, and I take a deep breath, pulling up my brave panties to face the demon on the other side of the call.

“Helloo!” My voice comes out shaky, but firm.

“Amara..” 

The deep resonance of his husky voice send chills down my skin, seeping deeper into my bones, and confirming my darkest fear.

It’s him.*. It’s Ryan.*

Only he ever calls me by that weird mis-pronounced name. Nobody else.

“I feel so bad.” He murmurs heavily, sounding a bit sad. “I don’t like how you deleted my number.”

Goosebumps form on my skin as I listen to his raspy voice, igniting a nostalgic spark within me as if he is touching me.

*And I hate it.*

“What do you want?” I ask him, gulping hard and holding on to the phone even harder. 

“Come down.. I want to talk to you.” He breathes deeply, causing waves of shiver coursing down my spine. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I manage to say with ragged heart beats, dreaded with the thought of facing him again.

“I figured out you would say that.. That’s why I am at your place.” He replies casually, as if we are long lost buddies catching up. 

And it hurts me even more.

How can he behave like we have a thing after all those years of ignorance?

“I am not coming down to meet you.” I spit out, refusing to let his smooth seductive voice manipulate me again. 

If he had called me years ago, I would have gone crazy. But now, I am no longer under his sensual spell.

“Fine.” Ryan states roughly. “I’ll come up then.”

*What?*

“NO!” I gasp out loud in fear, knowing very well he will.

*I forgot how stubborn this fucker is!*

Ryan laughs.

His manly chuckles echo through the phone, causing to speed up my heart beats. I hate how I can picture him laughing with his sweet dimples denting his cheeks.

My stomach clenches as I hear him draw in a deep breath, and brace myself for whatever he is about to say.

“Come down.. I am waiting for you.” Ryan whispers huskily, before hanging up the call.

Though he said softly, it feels like an order. A malicious command, that my body feels compelled to follow. 

*Fuck it!*

I toss my phone on to the bed and pace around my room panickingly. Sweat runs down my neck, while my mind runs everywhere and anywhere. 

*Why did he come back?* 

*And why the fuck he wants to meet me?*

A part of my mind already knows the sinister intentions lurking behind his return, yet I don’t want to accept it. 

Walking to the cupboard, I pull out a small cutter blade and hide it in my palm. 

One thing I learned from watching Euphoria: *If you are going to face the bad guy, go prepared.*

With unsteady steps, I climb down my dad’s castle to go meet the evil prince outside. 

“Where are you off to? You just came.” My father questions me, pausing his Barbie movie on Netflix.

My feet halts on the spot, and so does my breath as his scrutinizing cop eyes lock onto me.

“Um.. Ana came to meet me. She is outside.” I tell him awkwardly, hiding the cutter in my fist.

“Why didn’t you call her in?” He asks me with questioning brows.

“I did, but she said she is only here for a few minutes.” I reply hastily.

“Alright, be back soon.” He nods, granting me permission to walk out.

I force a smile, gulping the guilt trip which is crawling up my throat. I hate lying to my parents, especially for a motherfucker like him. 

I spot the black SUV parked a few houses away. I take a deep, shaky breath, before walking towards the car.

My stomach churns in fear as I see the devil’s trident proudly erected on the bonnet, sending nostalgic shivers down my spine.

It feels like I am transported back to three years ago, when he took me in his car and touched me with his sultry hands in places where even sunlight had not touched me.

Black tinted windows cloak the vehicle from all sides, unable for me to see him. But I know, he can clearly see me.

Walking up to the passenger side, the door swings open and with trembling legs, I get inside the ominous car.

I close the door after sliding in and finally face the devil beside me.

*Ryan Damison.*