The Wicked Collection

by Vivian Wood

  “You do what feels right for you,” Meredith had told her. “Trust me. It’s worth waiting for.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  You are a fucking idiot. Henry beat himself up as he sat on the porch. What the hell do you think you’re doing? That’s Ellie you’re messing with! He could hear the two of them talking on the couch, but couldn’t make out the conversation. Jumping up, he opened the door and grabbed a light wool jacket.

  “Henry!” Meredith called. “I’m just about to make some brunch. Would you like to join us?”

  “Nah, thanks though, Meredith. I’m not hungry. I’m actually going to go on a walk.”

  “A walk?” Meredith looked at him quizzically. “You’re not even dressed for it! Come on, why not—”

  “Thanks again, Mer.” He saw Ellie looking at him, confused, but shut the door before either of them could protest more.

  As he started walking up the hill, he let the cold embrace him. Out here, in the wild, with nothing but the sound of the winds in the pines and the occasional winter birds, a sense of calm came over him. This was what he needed—a little peace and solitude to think. Clearly, he hadn’t been doing a lot of that lately.

  He couldn’t believe he kissed Ellie like that, or at all. But he couldn’t help himself. He could only recall little pieces of what he’d been dreaming about, but her name had been on his lips even as he woke. And seeing her like that, nearly on top of him with that hair falling down and framing his face and the scent of her skin so close… it was a miracle he hadn’t broken free of those restraints and taken her right there.

  She’s a virgin. A virgin, a virgin… hell, she just had a fiancé a few days ago! You’re a fucking mess.

  He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he was still here. Of course, neither of them realized the snow had apparently melted quite a bit. If Meredith could make it to the cabin with no problems, surely his SUV could manage. There was only one thing to do. Leave before he made a bigger mess than he already had.

  As he crested another hill, he realized he’d lost track of how far he’d been walking, or even in what direction. Looking back, he was grateful to see a trail of his deep footsteps in the snow. Thank God there’s no more snow in the forecast, he thought. It would be simple enough to trace his footsteps back to the cabin. How long had it been? Hours? The position of the sun was hidden by clouds and betrayed nothing. He could have walked for one mile, two or even ten. He had no idea. The entirety of his thoughts were consumed with Ellie.

  As the sky began to darken, he turned around and headed back. His stomach raged, ravenous from a day of starvation. After what seemed like an eternity, the cabin finally came into sight. He could see Ellie and Meredith on the couch, paging through magazines.

  “Henry!” Ellie said as he stomped his boots on the porch and opened the door. “My God! Where have you been? You’ve been gone all day.”

  “Just hiking,” he said, trying to shake off the sudden chill. Had he been shaking this whole time? “Lost track of time.”

  “I’ll say,” Meredith said, looking up at him with—was it accusation?

  “I’ll, uh—I’ll go start dinner,” he said.

  “Do you want—” Meredith began, but Ellie touched her arm and shook her head.

  “You two are hungry, right?” he called from the kitchen.

  “Starving,” Ellie yelled back.

  As he was finishing up the pork with a good sear and checked on the vegetables steaming in the bamboo basket, Ellie and Meredith made their way into the kitchen. “Just supervising,” Meredith teased him, peeking over his shoulder.

  “No need for supervision,” Ellie told her. “He’s an amazing cook.”

  “All ready,” Henry told them, placing the dishes on the breakfast table for a family-style meal. Meredith spread out, taking up room for two with Arliss at her side.

  “Don’t waste a good pork chop!” Henry admonished her as Meredith snuck little bites to Arliss.

  “It’s hardly a waste,” Meredith said. “Arliss loves it, and he has an excellent, very well-developed palate.”

  “So,” Ellie said, cutting into her pork chop. “Tell us all about the White House drama.”

  Meredith laughed. “There’s plenty of drama, but it’s pretty boring drama. Put a bunch of mostly old white men together to talk politics, and it’s not exactly HBO-level gossip.”

  “How’s Eli handling it?” Ellie asked. “I have a feeling he doesn’t tell me much.”

  Meredith shook her head. “I think he’s doing okay,” she said. “But you know what they say. Being POTUS ages you dramatically. I can’t imagine how he’ll look in four years.”

  “Or eight,” Ellie said.

  “Oh God, don’t even say that,” Meredith said. “Eli’s not saying one way or the other whether he’ll run again. I don’t think he knows, himself. Personally, I think four years is more than enough. I don’t really want to raise children in the White House, not with that kind of media circus exposure.”

  “Kids?” Ellie’s eyes lit up at the idea.

  “Don’t go getting any ideas,” laughed Meredith. “You’re not going to be an aunt for a while yet. We’re just thinking ahead.”

  “Oh, Mer!” Ellie cooed. “You guys would make the cutest babies, though. Don’t you think, Henry?”

  He realized Ellie said his name, but he was largely tuned out of the conversation. Something about babies. “Uh-huh,” he grunted.

  “Clearly someone doesn’t have baby fever,” Meredith told Ellie, looking at Henry as she sliced a slender cut of her pork.

  “Men,” Ellie agreed. “Well, at least tell me one piece of White House gossip.”

  Meredith giggled. “Alright, here’s one. You know Bob? That one congressman that always had it out for Eli? Kept calling him ‘that kid’ when Eli was first campaigning?”

  “Ugh. Bob the Blob,” Ellie said, nodding her head.

  “Well. It turns out his wife? He caught her in bed with the bellhop at the hotel they always stay at in Hawaii. And the guy was barely even twenty years old!”

  “What? How come that hasn’t been on the news?” Ellie asked.

  Meredith shrugged. “Seems Bob has enough money to pay off any journalists interested in that. On the plus side, he hasn’t said anything about Eli as far as I know since then!”

  “But God, Bob must be eighty years old. How old was his wife?”

  “About the same age!”

  Henry focused on eating as quickly as possible, not even tasting his dinner. When he jumped up and grabbed his plate, Meredith looked at him in surprise. “We’ll help.” She started to get up, and he waved her back down.

  “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

  “Well.” Meredith gave Arliss the last scrap from her plate and stood up. “I’m going to call Eli and check in on the landline. Excuse me.”

  Henry could feel Ellie watching him as he rinsed the plates.

  “We need to talk about this morning,” she said to his back. He shook his head.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. It was a mistake,” he said. “I was tired.”

  Suddenly, she was at his side and he was drawn to her eyes. Brewing within, there was a fire he’d never seen before. She opened her mouth, parting those unbelievable lips—the lips he’d been devouring just a few hours before—but before she could retort, he excused himself. “I need to take care of something upstairs,” he told her.

  He almost made it to the stairs when Meredith appeared in the hallway. “Henry. Ellie.” There was a stoniness in her voice.

  “Is Eli still on the phone?” Ellie was right on Henry’s heels.

  “No. Look,” Meredith began. “Eli says there’s been several credible threats to your life,” she said to Ellie. “Probably from the recent, uh… media exposure.”

  “What?” Ellie gasped. “What kind of threats?”

  “I’m not sure,” Meredith told her. To Henry, it was clear that she was lying. That was a skill he'd learned
well in the Navy. Knowing how to sniff out lies was paramount to survival. So then why are you so unsure about what Ellie says?

  “All I know is, most of the threats were anonymous but there were many online that were just too accurate to dismiss. They… they seem to know where you are, Ellie.”

  “Oh my God.” Ellie slumped down onto the bottom step, and Henry moved instinctively close to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “Eli has backup agents already en route to the caretaker’s cabin,” Meredith said. “He says the two there now won’t cut it. But, until they arrive… he thinks it’d be best if you stayed with her, Henry.”

  “Me?” Henry asked. “You told Eli I was here?” Was Eli going to be mad at him? He hadn’t even asked if it was okay to go to the cabin.

  “Of course I told him,” Meredith said with a strong look in her eye. It was what made her so impressive in those first lady speeches. She could command a room with her eyes when she wanted to. It was enough to make Henry collect himself. “Eli says please, Henry. You’re the only one he trusts with his sister’s life.”

  Henry went tense. Really? Was that true? “Of course. Of course I’ll stay.” He felt his hand automatically squeeze Ellie’s shoulder, a protective gesture. Meredith’s eyes glanced down at his hand.

  “Yeah, well,” Meredith continued, keeping her eyes on his hand. “You are a Navy SEAL, after all. Plus, you’re like a brother to Eli. And Ellie.”

  “A brother,” Henry repeated. “Yeah, right. I, uh, I need to go to my room for a moment. If you’ll excuse me—”

  Upstairs, he shut his door and sat on his bed. This was too much. Too much! It was one thing to be torn with temptation, and even have a few inappropriate moments with Ellie. Now her life was endangered? And he was supposed to protect her? Did Eli really say that to Meredith? That Eli only trusted Henry with his sister’s life? Where the fuck were those Secret Service agents?

  He was so fucked. So fucked. Thinking he could leave just like that, run away from everything. It hadn’t gone too far with Ellie, not yet—it wasn’t anything he couldn’t brush away. But now? Who knows how long Eli expected him to stay here and keep her safe?

  Worse—what if he couldn’t?

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Internet’s back,” Henry told her as he slunk into the office.

  “Thank God,” Ellie said to his retreating back. He only left the door open a crack.

  Mer had left early that morning, wrapped up in a decadent red wool peacoat with a fur-trimmed hood. “You look like Little Red Riding Hood,” Ellie had told her, and Mer laughed.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll steer clear of any Big Bad Wolves,” she told Ellie as she kissed her cheek.

  “I can’t believe Eli lets you travel by yourself.” Ellie just shook her head. She hadn’t even been allowed to go to a local club alone.

  “He doesn’t,” Mer had said. “My guards are already waiting at the bottom of the hill.”

  With Meredith gone and Henry holed away in the office, curiosity began to itch at Ellie’s brain. What were the threats exactly? Was it really that bad? It seemed like forever since she’d been on Instagram or Facebook. At this point, she was even craving a few Snapchat stories, even though the transient nature of the platform seemed strange to her.

  Quietly, so Henry couldn’t hear what she was doing, she pulled her phone out of her bag in the hall closet and connected to the cabin Wi-Fi. A simple search for her name and “death threats” unveiled pages of Google search results. “Ellie’s a slut who deservz whatever the Turban terrorists got pland,” read one comment in a story about her. “U wana keep that bitch out of troubble? I got plenty of dick she can keep busy wit!” Somehow she stumbled onto what appeared to be an ISIS fan group. “White nationalist seductress paid by Washington to seduce God-fearing men into trespassing against Allah.” Well. At least that one could spell.

  Story after story, headline after headline, the words sunk into her head. She was reminded of that professor from sophomore year who'd preached the importance of cognitive reconditioning. “Especially in a society where sarcasm and self-deprecation is revered,” the professor had said, “speak kindly to yourself. Your brain is really good at making what you think a reality. And if you aren’t kind to yourself, who will be?”

  That professor was right. All of this lambasting wasn’t doing her any good. Instead, she watched her fingers type in “Fac” as if they were operating on their own. The URL bar autofilled “Facebook” and, even though she’d disabled her account after the Sean fiasco, all it took was her signing in again to open a raging newsfeed.

  Facebook was covered with threats, too. Acquaintances from high school and childhood were sharing the same threatening stories to their pages. A few tagged her. “OMG, Ellie, did you see this???” “What’s going on?” She couldn’t escape it.

  Just as she was about to close the app, Facebook played its dirtiest hand. “Your memories on Facebook. Ellie, we care about you and the memories you share here. We thought you’d like to look back on this post from 1 year ago.” The suggested photo was of her and Sean last year on Valentine’s Day. She was clutching a brooch bouquet of peonies, her favorite flower, and smiling widely while Sean beamed at the camera with his arm wrapped around her. “Now you don’t have to wait until May for them to blossom,” he’d told her. Fuck you, Facebook.

  Leaving the app, she set down the phone and gazed out the window. What the hell is going to happen to me? She'd come to the cabin to escape and relax. To figure out life. And now? It was all temptation and confusion with Henry, seemingly nonstop embarrassment, and now apparently she was in need of presidential security from a stream of death threats. And for what? For catching her boyfriend fucking some stranger at graduation?

  With a sigh, she picked herself up and wandered into the kitchen. From the office, she could hear Henry quietly clacking away. Ellie dug through the cupboards, rifling through the brown paper bags Henry had tucked away. Pulling out organic cashew butter and a tin of locally sourced jam, she crafted a deluxe version of her favorite childhood comfort sandwich on artisanal crunchy bread. Pulling her legs beneath her on the padded kitchen chair, she started to devour her lunch just as Henry walked in.

  In silence, with barely a look in her direction, he got to work making his own lunch. Every bite she took sounded deafening in the quiet. The silence grew more awkward with every moment, each of them pretending the other didn’t exist.

  Finally, Henry cleared his throat, his back to Ellie. “What are you up to today?” he asked.

  Ellie scrunched her nose as she swallowed. “You don’t need to do that,” she told him.

  “Do what?”

  “Feel indebted to me. Or Eli. You’re only still here because you feel like you owe it to him. We both know that.” Shut up, Ellie. You’re such a fucking little girl. Stop making all these mistakes and dragging everyone else into it!

  Henry turned whip fast, a butter knife in one hand and a deep scowl etched into his rugged face. He’d given up the daily shaves. Now, that stubble made him look older. Dangerous, even. “That’s not true,” he told her. “I care about you.”

  “Yeah—but only as a friend. Right, Henry? Only as Eli’s little sister that you got roped into babysitting.”

  He set down his plate with a snap, but didn’t sit. Instead, he loomed over her, wolfing down his own sandwich while still standing. Two could play this game. Ellie continued her own meal, refusing to be the first to drop eye contact.

  “You know,” Henry began. “When I was a kid, a group of kids at school used to make fun of me for living with Aunt Mary.”

  “What?” This was an unexpected turn in the conversation. “Why… why are you telling me this?”

  “It was Eli who finally made them lay off me. He said something to them—to this day, I don’t know what. I’m sure he made some shit up about me being a badass or something. I don’t know. All I know is, after I saw Eli talking to them a couple of times, they lef
t me alone.”

  “Oh,” Ellie said. “What, um, what were they doing to you? How were they bullying you?” She couldn’t imagine Henry ever being in a position to be picked on.

  “You know, usual kid stuff,” Henry said with a shrug. “Shoving in the hallways, a few gang beatings after school, at least until I learned to take the bus instead of walking, even though I lived just five blocks from the school. It’s a good thing Aunt Mary never found out. She was… pretty out of it at that point. I don’t think she even noticed the black eyes or bloody noses.”

  “Jesus, Henry—”

  “You know,” he said with a forced, strange laugh. “One time? They broke my nose. Full on broke my nose.”

  “What did you do?” She searched his seemingly perfect nose for a sign of an imperfection, but there was none.

  “Not much you can do in most cases,” he said. “I went to the coach, said it happened during a pick-up game and that we didn’t have insurance. That was a lie, but he said it was a pretty small, clean break and shoved the bones back in alignment.”

  “What the hell, Henry?”

  “It’s not a big deal,” he said. “But I think that, that incident, that’s what put Eli over the edge. He’s the first one who saw me after they busted my nose. It happened during lunch. They’d cornered me in the locker room after most everyone else had left.”

  “What did he say?” She couldn’t picture Eli as some kind of middle school savior. She only knew him as the solid, kind of quiet, determined and studious politician in the making.

  “He didn’t say anything. It was a look in his eye that he had. Like he’d made a decision to do something and there was no holding him back. Actually, I didn’t even tell him anything. He just saw me and he knew.”

  “Eli never told me anything about that…”