Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 7.5 ⊱ Weight of Responsibility

**Cade**

I sit at the table, sipping my beer as I wait for my date to arrive. The bustling energy of the restaurant envelops me the clink of glasses, the hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter. My gaze scans the premises briefly, my gaze flickering from the semi-empty bar to the basketball game playing on the pair of TVs overhead when my attention is suddenly drawn to the door as a familiar figure walks in. *Elysian.*

The mere sight of her is unsettling, my eyes following her as she makes her way to the bar and takes a seat. I can't help but stare, my mind drifting, trying to recall the last time I'd seen her, before she *mysteriously* reappeared in my life. It was an argument, as usual. Truthfully, I can't remember doing anything with her *except* arguing. She kept trying to walk away from me while I was talking, knowing full well how much I hated it when she did that. I remember the frustration bubbling up inside me, the words turning bitter on my tongue.

The memory of that day in my luxurious Florida condo is still vivid. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the pristine white sands and turquoise waters of the coast. The open-concept living room was adorned with sleek, modern furniture a plush white leather sofa, a glass coffee table, and state-of-the-art entertainment system.

But the idyllic room did nothing to ease the tension between us. We stood in the middle of the living room, facing each other, the air so thick it was suffocating as she looked up at me with frustration in those big, almond shaped, brown eyes of hers.

"We need to talk about what happened at dinner with my father," I said, my tone gentle but firm.

She rolled her eyes, her arms crossed defiantly just beneath her breasts. "I don't want to hear it, Cade. Just drop it."

As dismissive as she was, she knew how much I hated it. Yet, when she was upset, she never failed to fall back into habits she swore she'd work on. And there was nothing I hated more than how passive she could be.

I clenched my jaw, taking a step toward her. "No, I won't drop it. You let him walk all over you, Elysian. You just sat there and took it like a fucking doormat."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "What was I supposed to do?! I didn't want to cause a scene, okay? He's your dad, for God's sake!"

It's true that my father never liked her. While my mother absolutely adored her, my father wanted nothing to do with Elysian. Countless times, he'd pull me aside and try to reason with me, to convince me of why men like us had no business being seen with women *like her*.

To this day, I don't know why it took months for me to break things off with her. Maybe it was that my mother wanted us together, and I loved my mother, respected her more than anyone else. When she died, it took me a long time to learn how to breathe again. It took me a long time to pull myself together, and at first, I thought that the best way was to try to forget about her. I tried to let go of all of the things that reminded me of her-starting with my relationship with Elysian. Still, everything after *that* day is foggy.

As I stood there, in the living room of my condo, looking over Elysian with my frustration boiling over, I nearly lost it. I wanted to shake some sense into her, desperately. I grabbed her arm, my grip tight. "I don't care *who* he is. He was out of line. You're my girlfriend, and I won't stand for anyone disrespecting you like that. Not even my own father."

She yanked her arm out of my grasp, her eyes flashing with anger. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Cade. I can handle myself!"

I let out a humorless and sarcastic laugh, pressing her, "Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're content to just sit back and let people treat you like shit."

It sent her over the edge. There was nothing she hated more than being confronted with the truth, because she didn't know how to deal with it. She didn't know how to acknowledge that she was flawed-*especially* when she was angry. She took a step back, her expression cold. "You know what? I'm done with this conversation. I'm not going to stand here and listen to you berate me or lecture me just because you can't stand the fact that I won't always do what *you* want me to."

I moved to block her path, my voice rising as I stopped her, "You're not going anywhere until we talk about this, Elysian. I'm trying to help you, can't you see that?"

She pushed past me, heading toward the door with the intent to do what she knew best: walk away. "I don't need your help, Cade. And I don't need your permission to leave."

I should've let her leave right then and there. In fact, if it'd been anybody else, I would have. But somehow, she had the ability to get under my skin like no one else. She had a way of bringing out the worst in me.

I followed her, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Damn it, Elysian! Why are you so fucking stubborn?! Why can't you just listen to me for once?!"

She spun around, her hand on the doorknob. "Because you're not my fucking keeper, Cade! I'm a grown woman and I can make my own decisions. Even if that means choosing not to *engage* with your asshole dad!"

I slammed my hand against the door, stopping her from opening it. My face was just inches away from her, screaming at her, "He's only an asshole because you let him! If you'd stand up for yourself, he'd start treating you with some goddamn respect!"

Now, I know it was never her responsibility to defend herself against him. It was mine. But at the time, I didn't see it that way.

She shoved me away, her eyes brimming with tears of frustration as she breathed out, her voice quavering, "Whatever...I'm leaving." She wrenched the door open and stormed out, her footsteps echoing in the hallway, growing distant with each step.

I stood there, seething, my hand still pressed against the door. I hated seeing her like that-so meek and submissive in the face of anyone who intimidated her. Although, I guess her being submissive wasn't so terrible. *Now, I remember.*

Her being submissive was one of the things I always liked about her. She was so submissive to me. The only problem was that it wasn't *just* me she was submissive to.

I slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the empty condo. I stalked over to the windows, staring out at the vast expanse of the ocean, my reflection staring back at me in the glass.

Thinking back to it, I don't remember why I was trying so hard to help her. I don't remember why I cared so much about her learning to defend herself. It's all just...one big blur.

Shaking my head, I pull myself out of my thoughts, my eyes still fixated on her as she sits at the bar.

*Why did I even date her in the first place?*

I rack my brain, trying to remember what it was about her that drew me in, but I come up short. Sure, she's attractive...more than attractive. In those tight black leggings of hers, her meaty thighs and perfectly perky ass are hard to miss. She's smart-no doubt about that. But beyond that? Nothing.

*Maybe the sex was amazing?*

...

*How great could it have been? I don't even remember it.*

My elbow resting on the table, I bring my hand up to my face, holding the underside of my chin between my thumb and index finger as I bring the glass of beer up to my lips and take a long, generous sip.

In the next moment, I watch as a guy approaches her, offering to buy her a drink. I can see the discomfort written all over her face, but she accepts anyway. Typical Elysian.

*Still doesn't know how to say no.*

I roll my eyes, ready to turn my attention elsewhere, but then, I see it: while she's distracted, looking for the bartender, the guy pours a clear liquid into her drink out of a vial. *Idiot.*

I consider saying something, but I stop myself, telling myself it's not my business anymore.

When she averts her gaze back to him, she offers him a small smile as he excuses himself, and as oblivious as she's always been, I watch her take a sip out of the drink.

*Is she always so damn carless?*

As the seconds go by, instinctively, I grow anxious and even more uneasy. I can't look away, no matter how much I want to. I can't turn a blind eye, picturing what's going to happen to her as she takes the bag of food the bartender hands her and walks out the door, the asshole following closely behind her.

*Damn it!*

Against my better judgment, I snap onto my feet, making my way outside. I scan the parking lot, feeling my heart pounding in my chest as I desperately search until I spot them near her car. I watch him catch her in his arms as she loses her balance, disoriented.

Without a second thought, I move toward them, my strides quick and steady. He drags her to a car just a couple of spots over, and as he reaches for the door of his back seat, too distracted trying to put her in his car, I come to stand within arm's reach, prepared to pull the gun I always carry behind the lapel of my jacket.

The metal feels cool against my skin, my hand wrapped around it as I draw it out, my voice low and threatening, "I'd put her down if I were you."

His gaze snaps to me, flickering from my own to the gun he very clearly sees in my hand. I watch the terror flash in his eyes, his face going pale as though he's seen a ghost. Instantly, he drops her, scrambling to get into his car and speeding off, the tires screeching against the pavement.

*Coward.*

With the gun still in my hand, my gaze falls to Elysian, hearing her mumble incoherently, barely able to hold her eyes open. I glance over my shoulder, a moment of relief washing over me as I find the parking lot with vacant cars, their owners nowhere in sight.

Slipping the gun back into the holster beneath my jacket, I crouch down beside Elysian, intently searching for any signs of poisoning. *She'll be fine.*

"What am I gonna do with you?" I mutter, more to myself than to her.

I glance back and see her keys, wallet, and phone scattered on the ground. Sighing, I realize I'm now responsible for her. The thought of calling the police crosses my mind, but calling the police means having to file a report and deal with the hassle of questioning.

*I don't have time for that shit.*

Though it's the last thing I want to do, I know that the simplest solution is for me to take her to my place.

*Don't make me regret this.*

I gather her belongings and scoop her up into my arms, carrying her to my Rover. As I lay her down in the back seat, I can't help but wonder how I got myself into this mess. Dealing with Elysian is the last thing I need right now, but here I am, playing the reluctant hero.

*I was really looking forward to getting laid tonight...damn it!*

I shake my head, thinking about the pretty blonde I had plans with for the night as I slip into the driver's seat. The engine roars to life as I pull out of the parking lot, the city lights blurring past the windows. In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of Elysian's unconscious, small form, her dark hair sprawled across the leather seat.

A part of me wants to be angry with her, to blame her for getting herself into this situation. But then there's the part of me, a part of me I thought didn't exist, that feels a twinge of concern. Despite whatever happened between us, I can't just leave her to fend for herself. Not like this.

*Careless...so fucking careless.*