Holding

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Holding Page 10

by Jillian Quinn


  Should I make a move again? Am I stupid for thinking this is a good idea to pursue my tutor? What about the masked girl ?

  The verdict is still out on whether she and Ella are one in the same. Ella sounds like her, has the same denim colored eyes that lured me in the first time, and she even has the same laugh. Her soft features and flawless pale skin also match the girl in my mind as well as the one in the picture on my cell phone.

  For the life of me, I cannot see Ella hanging out at a fraternity house on a Saturday night, especially after hearing about the rules her stepmother enforces. Her stepmother doesn’t want her to date out of fear she might get pregnant, forcing her to pay for another child. From the sounds of it, she cares more about losing her live-in maid than the risk of Ella becoming pregnant.

  If she knew Ella at all, she would know that she’s not the type to spread her legs for someone she doesn’t know, even though it sure as hell seemed as if she were ready to give herself to me at the party. Things went a little farther than either of us had planned in the back hallway of my house. I don’t regret a single thing, and if Ella is the girl, I imagine she shares my opinion.

  Ella edges away from me, her fingers slipping from my grip, answering my question about wanting to kiss me. If only she would let me kiss her, so I can call off my search party and give back the gold charm.

  My mom always told me that I would know when I found the right girl. Her advice was always on point, and this time is no different. We have an undeniable attraction to one another, but what I have with Ella is more than lust. What we share is a deep-seated connection so real it’s like electricity dancing between us, like two live wires fused together to create a perfect charge.

  With other women, I hadn’t felt anything more than an itch I’d needed to scratch. But, with Ella, our bond is so much stronger and meaningful.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the library,” I mutter, peeling my hand from her side.

  Before she can respond, the gates at the end of the long driveway open with a loud groan, as if the metal is grinding together. A car comes flying up toward the house, the headlights illuminating the dark path. Ella stills at my side, and the life drains from her face.

  I hook my arm around Ella’s back and bring her into my chest. “You okay?”

  “I’m sorry for what is about to happen,” she chokes out.

  With the dark tint on the windows, I have trouble making out the passengers inside the car. Music cranks through the speakers of the Mercedes, and a pop beat fills the silent air.

  “Why are you sorry? I won’t let whoever is in the car hurt you.”

  “You can’t protect me from them, Shawn. I wish you could but…” Her voice trails off once the driver and passenger doors fling open.

  Whoever has Ella so afraid causes her to tremble, her fear shaking through me. I have nerves of steel, not the least bit phased by the threat. I prepare myself for the worst-case scenario until two girls get out the car and slam the doors shut. They walk side-by-side, chatting about a boy and completely unaware we are standing on the porch, listening to every word.

  Even in the darkness, despite their faces not yet visible, their voices sound familiar. Once they come out from the shadows and into the light that shines through the front door, I get a good look at them. Natasha and Anastasia Rivers stop dead in their tracks and stare up at Ella and me.

  What the hell are they doing at Ella’s house? Now, I’m even more confused than I was before.

  “Finch,” Anastasia says, throwing her dark hair over her shoulder. “Is that you?”

  “Oh my God, what are you doing here?” Natasha adds. “How did you know where we lived?”

  My mouth widens in shock when I realize they are Ella’s stepsisters who live to torture her. Not that I liked either of them before, but knowing they are responsible for so much of Ella’s pain causes a rush of anger to flood through my veins. While Ella looks as though she wants to jump out of her skin, I am fuming and dying to say something to the girls on her behalf. But I know she would not want my help. She would want me to keep my mouth shut out of fear it would only make her situation worse.

  The sisters have a quick conversation amongst themselves where they ask each other if one of their sorority sisters had given out their address. Their discussion lasts a few seconds, before their focus shifts back to me. I get a quick smile from them, but once their eyes land on Ella, their mouths twist in disgust.

  Anastasia stands up straight and fixes the bag on her shoulder, ignoring Ella. “You came all the way over here to see us, Finch. That’s too sweet.”

  Without hesitation, I say, “I’ didn’t come here to see you.”

  She turns to look at her sister. “So, you’re here for Natasha?”

  “No,” I correct, “I’m here with Ella, your other sister.”

  They both scowl at the same time, but it’s Natasha who speaks first. “Puh-lease, she is not our sister. Gross. How dare you call her that?”

  “The feeling is mutual,” Ella blurts out, pushing her hands onto her hips. A minute ago, she looked terrified, but now, she’s bold, more like the girl I have come to know over the past week.

  “No, seriously, what are you doing here?” Anastasia says, her tone demanding an answer.

  These girls are bullies dressed in designer clothes with too much makeup caked on their faces.

  “I brought Ella home. Do you have a problem with it?”

  Anastasia gives me a look of death, while Natasha huffs, blowing a chunk of dark hair in front of her face. It’s obvious they want to say something. Instead, they hook onto each other and blow past us and into the house.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Ella.

  “You didn’t do anything but stand up to them for me.”

  “Yeah, but by doing so, they will give you hell when I’m gone. I didn’t mean to interfere.”

  Ella closes the distance between us and slips her fingers beneath my jacket, warming my skin with her touch. “Thank you, Shawn. I appreciate you defending me. Some days, they are like tyrants. It’s frustrating always having to deal with them alone. If you didn’t speak up, they probably would have stood out here and embarrassed me until you left.”

  “There’s nothing they could say about you that I wouldn’t like.” I smile, holding her gaze, and take her face in my hand. “So far, I like everything about you, Ella Fitzgerald.”

  “You’re almost too good to be true,” she breathes.

  Unsure how to respond, I continue stroking her jaw with my fingers and take in her beauty. She’s the girl. With every ounce of my being, I feel it in my bones. If only she would allow me to kiss her, so I can prove that I am right about my theory.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ella

  Once I convince Shawn to leave, so that I can deal with my stepsisters, I wait a minute for him to walk down the long driveway before I step inside the house. He was worried about the wrath of Bitch and Bitchier. But I can handle them. I was terrified when they found us together alone on the steps. I lucked out with them stomping off into the house before they said something to humiliate me.

  Natasha and Anastasia are waiting for me in the sitting room with Clarissa, the three of them standing next to each other with their hands on their hips, staring at me in anger.

  Clarissa tips her head up at the ceiling with every ounce of arrogance and authority she always projects. Her daughters are no better, giving me their usual self-entitled resting bitch faces. I should have thought things through before I had invited Shawn onto the property. After sharing so much of our pasts on the bus rides over, I lowered my guard more than I should.

  While I appreciate Shawn standing up to my stepsisters, I have no doubt they will make me pay for every word he spoke against them. I imagine he sees them often enough that they could torment us both, though I’m not so sure what they would do that could affect him the same as me. I have to live with them, which is a big difference.

  “You know
the rules, Ella,” Clarissa says in an angry tone, despite the calm in her voice.

  Even when Clarissa is ready to blow a gasket, she never shows it. That alone makes her more menacing. How does she manage to stay in control all the time? It must be how she’d fooled my father. He had no idea he was marrying the woman I know. She was nicer when he was alive. Now, she’s cold and calculated and does everything with a purpose, one that usually ends badly for me.

  “Yes, I know,” I mutter, staring down at the floor, deflated. “I’m sorry. It will not happen again.”

  Why do the best nights with Shawn have to end like this? I hate them so much I wish I could break free from their constant harassment.

  “You’re right. It won’t happen again because you are grounded.”

  My mouth widens in shock, as I stare at Clarissa.

  “I didn’t mean anything by bringing him here. I wasn’t planning to invite him inside. He only offered to see me home.”

  “You are not allowed to have guests. It’s bad enough that you sneak off to see that old woman next door when you think I am not paying attention, but it is another to bring a strange boy to my house. There are rules for a reason. You seem to like breaking them, so I have no choice to punish you, Ella.”

  How does she know about my visits with Mrs. Feighry?

  With my schedule, I haven’t had much time to escape for an hour to have tea with Mrs. F, even though I make it a point to stop by on my way home from school to check on her.

  “I’m almost twenty-two years old and not a child anymore.” The words roll off my tongue with so much hatred for this woman. If I had a superpower, I would use it make her disappear along with her wicked daughters.

  “You live under my roof, which means you follow my rules unless you want to move out. That’s an option.” She wrinkles her nose at me as if I am beneath her and snorts. “I’m sure you would last all of two seconds on your own.”

  “Natasha and Anastasia are allowed to have friends and boyfriends over,” I counter.

  I hate when their friends come to visit. I’m forced to stay in my room, making me feel even more like a prisoner than I already do.

  Natasha rolls her eyes and growls, “Mind your own business, Little Orphan Ella.”

  My blood boils from the nickname she reserves for when she’s pissed, which is more often than not. It reminds me of everything I have lost and all that I have left. Nothing and no one. Natasha uses it against me because she knows how to hurt me most. They all do.

  With my hands balled into fists at my sides, I lock eyes with Clarissa. A beat passes between us before I muster up enough courage to speak again. No matter how much I want to act out, I have to stay strong until the end of the school year. I lasted this long without my father, and I can make it another three months. All I have to do is follow her orders. Natasha and Anastasia are complications added to the mix, but I can deal with them.

  “How long is my punishment?” I ask Clarissa to her satisfaction.

  The corner of her mouth curls upward into a lopsided smirk. She lives to win and wins she does. I have no power here, and she knows it. Because of that, she uses it to her advantage. “Let’s start with this weekend and go from there.”

  “But—” I whine, stopping myself before I can mention the football game. They cannot know that Tori had invited me to the first playoff game for the Strickland Senators. I hadn’t even mentioned it to Shawn, thinking I would show up and surprise him on the sidelines. Now, that plan is out the window. So much for having some fun before college ends.

  “No buts. What I say goes in this house, and my punishment is final.”

  If these bitches have anything to do with it, I will be stuck here, washing floors and reading books in the attic for the rest of my life, all while they spend my father’s money. I wish I could find a way to make them pay for everything they have done and continue to do to me.

  I don’t bother to answer Clarissa and ignore my stepsister’s victorious smiles.

  “You can go now,” Clarissa says in a hushed but icy cold tone.

  I walk away without as much as a nod, and Clarissa calls out from behind me. “And don’t forget to have our breakfast ready by seven o’clock. I have an early appointment that I cannot miss.”

  I keep going, as fast as my feet will allow, up the two flights of stairs and into my bedroom. Do not cry, I tell myself, doing my best not to fall apart. Most days, it takes everything I have left inside to keep them from getting the best of me. Today is not the day. Clarissa will not defeat me. I will not allow her to win.

  After a horrible night of sleep, I rode my usual three buses to school, had my usual classes with Tori, ate my usual lunch out of a brown paper bag outside the library, and then proceeded to the tutoring center, as per the usual. I have my entire life planned out, no different from one day to the next. But the much-needed and welcome change is Shawn, who is already waiting when I step inside the room. There is nothing typical about him.

  He peeks up from his textbook when I pull out the chair next to him. His smile lights his entire face and reaches up to his steel blue eyes. I could stare at his face forever, get lost in those eyes, and stay warm in his arms.

  I take off my jacket and slip it over the back of the chair, my heart beating out of my chest. Shawn makes me so nervous, despite how comfortable I am around him at times. All of this is new for me. And I doubt I will ever get used to the way Shawn stares at me as if he too could get lost in my eyes.

  “Hey,” he mutters, pushing my chair into the table after I sit down. “How did everything go last night?”

  I shrug my bag off my shoulder and set it on the table to retrieve a notepad and pen. “I’m grounded, nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Because of me?” I can hear both the shock and disappointment in his tone. He touches my forearm, stroking my skin with his fingers. “I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble. This is all my fault.”

  I shake my head and flip open the notebook, taking the pen in my hand. “None of this is your fault. I knew you weren’t allowed at my house, yet I didn’t tell you to go until it was too late. I don’t regret anything about last night.” A beat passes between us for a second before I continue, “Well, I regret telling you one thing, but other than that, I stand by my decisions.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me, confused at first. “What do you regret?” It takes him a few seconds before he catches on, now remembering my confession about my virginity. “Oh, right.”

  “Yup, that,” I add, making a goofy face at him to lighten the mood.

  “For the record, being a virgin is not something to be ashamed of, Ella. You should be proud of the fact that you didn’t give it up to an asshole like me in some dark corner of a frat house.”

  “You’re not an asshole, Shawn, far from it.”

  “I’m not the kind of guy a girl like you would ever want.”

  With his hand still covering mine, I feel his pulse quicken. He’s nervous, and so am I.

  “That’s not true,” I confess. “You’re the kind of guy every girl wants. Stop being so modest. Girls throw themselves at you all the time. You have no shortage of takers when it comes to sex.”

  “But I want more than just sex.”

  Did I hear him correctly?

  I’m afraid to ask, but I want to know the answer. “If not sex, then what do you want?”

  He leans in, our mouths only a few inches apart. “I want you.” His breath grazes my lips, sending chills down my spine.

  Being this close to Shawn causes my heart to pound, clawing its way out of my chest.

  “You want me?” I point my finger at my chest, still confused by his declaration. “What about your mystery girl?”

  Slowly, he sits back in his chair, staring down at our hands intertwined, thinking over my comment. Even though I’m the girl he’s on a mission to find, I have to keep my mouth shut. When the time is right, I will reveal my identity to Shawn.

 
By the way his lips part, he looks as though he wants to say something. Instead, we sit there in silence for close to a minute, even though it seems much longer.

  “There’s just something about you,” Shawn says, rubbing his hand over mine. “I wish I could put my finger on it.”

  I know what he means because I feel the same way about him. Instead of acknowledging his comment, I peel my hand from beneath his and slide the textbook between us. “We should start on your next assignment. You’re already behind in this class, and I promised I would help you get your grades up.”

  Shawn smiles at me, and then his eyes fall to the book. I follow suit and begin marking off the pages he needs to read to understand the law discussion for this week.

  “Read this,” I say, moving the book in front of him. I sink back in my chair and tap the pen on the table. “I need to see how you interpret the situation described on the next few pages to figure out how much we need to go over before we can begin.”

  “All business and no fun,” Shawn says with a sexy smirk, his eyes pointed down at the table.

  “All fun and no business is how you ended up in this mess in the first place,” I counter.

  He peeks up at me from beneath his brows and runs a hand through his short blond hair. “At least it led me to you.”

  My breath catches in my throat, forcing me to cough. “Eyes on the prize.”

  “I’m already looking at it,” he challenges.

  I raise my hand to Shawn’s forehead and feel his skin. “You must be coming down with something.” As I move my hand from his face, I wink, and he laughs.

  “You know, it’s days like this that make me like you even more.”

  My stomach knots, the bile rising from the back of my throat. What do I say in return?

  Finch always knows the right things to say because guys like him can sweet talk a girl out of their clothes and into their bed as if it’s their job. He says he wants me, but I have trouble believing him.

  For now, he just likes the idea of me or even the idea of his masked girl. Like most men, he only wants what he cannot have. And he knows I’m a virgin. That fact alone could make me even more desirable to a guy who wants to add another notch to their headboard. But it’s Finch or should I say, Shawn? In my mind, he’s still Finch, the unattainable football hottie I salivated over from afar. Now, he’s the man of my dreams and the one person who could make me believe in love once again if everything he says is true.

 

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