Elijah (The Cooper Brothers Book 1)

by Nikki Ashton

  “Elijah is working on the same job as me,” I blurted out, hoping if the words came out quickly they wouldn’t have a chance to hang around long enough to hurt.

  “Fuck,” Matty muttered, dragging a hand through his already messy, dark-chestnut coloured hair.

  “Matthew.” Mum flicked a tea towel at him and then turned to me. “Oh love, how was it?”

  “It was fine, as far as it could be.”

  “It can’t have been easy for you,” Dad said, shaking his head. “Did you talk, have you talked?”

  “We spoke, can’t say it was the friendliest chat I’ve ever had with someone, but…” I trailed off, not having any clue what the ‘but’ meant.

  But it still hurts.

  But he looks amazing.

  But I want to kick him in the dick.

  “Did he beg for your forgiveness?” Matty asked. “Because he should’ve, pissing knob head.”

  Mum gave an exasperated sigh in Matty’s direction before turning back to me. “Did he apologise?”

  I shook my head. “No, he still insists he didn’t do anything.”

  “You bloody caught them,” Dad gasped.

  “Lee, you don’t have to keep reminding her.”

  Mum tutted and moved over to the cooker, taking a pair of oven mitts, she pulled out the steaming Shepherd’s pie and placed it on the side. We all stayed silent, watching her do what she did best -take care of us.

  “I’m sorry,” Dad finally said, dragging his eyes from Mum. “It still hurts for us too. He was like a son to us and I can’t believe he betrayed you like that. I thought better of him.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest as I watched my Dad’s frown deepen. He was right, Elijah had been like a son to them. He’d grown up as part of this family, embedding himself into our everyday life, especially when Dad had his heart attack, helping by doing the jobs around the house that Dad wasn’t able to for a while. My parents had loved him for that and were devastated when we split up. Matty had actually cried, he was only sixteen and Elijah was his hero – his big brother.

  “Do you have to see him much?” Carla asked, her big grey eyes filled with worry.

  “Not much, not so far at least. He’s not been around a lot, but I heard one of his men say he’d been finishing off another job, so he may well be a lot more now.”

  A little guilt washed over me as I recalled accusing him of ‘prancing around’. Then again, what did I care if I’d been wrong, he was the cheating prick, not me.

  “I guess you’re just going to have to get on with it, sweetheart,” Dad said on a sigh. “Do your job, let him do his and hopefully not have to see much of him. You’re strong, you can do it.”

  “Well,” Mum said, taking knives and forks from the cutlery drawer. “You know what I think?”

  “What?” I asked as we all looked at her expectantly.

  “He’s a fucking little fucker.”

  Elijah

  aged 28

  My mind was spinning into overtime. All I’d been able to think about all week had been fucking Amy – well not fucking Amy as in the act, although if I had to visualise something while I wanked in the shower each morning, it wasn’t a bad place to start.

  Problem was, when that thought entered my head, my guilt about Mia stabbed at my temples and gave me a damn headache. She was a sweet girl and I loved her, but it wasn’t that all-consuming, tightening of the gut, tugging on my nuts kind of love that I’d felt for Amy.

  “Fuck you Amy Brown,” I muttered, as I raised the lump hammer and continued to smash up the mound of concrete that the builders had left behind, lazy fuckers.

  “How’s it going, boss?” Marty asked, coming to stand in front of me, holding out a mug.

  “Hard,” I growled, taking another swing of the hammer. “I’ve told Tino he should complain about the mess they’ve left outside, but I doubt he will.”

  “It’s going to slow us down by at least a week, especially as the whacker is knackered.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I sighed, dropping the hammer to the ground and leaning on the handle. “They must have dumped all the shit from inside, outside before they left site, because it wasn’t here when I came to do the damn quote.”

  I took the proffered mug from Marty, taking a welcoming sip. It was hard, hot, thirsty work and tea was just what I needed.

  “I got you some water too.” He handed the large bottle over and grinned.

  “What?” I took it from him and threw it down next to my fleece on the floor.

  “Amy gave it to me for you.”

  I almost choked on the tea that I’d just taken a sip of. “Fuck off.”

  “Nope. She gave us all one. She did kind of growl when she handed one over for ‘him making all the banging noise’, but at least she thought of you.”

  I looked down at the bottle of water on the floor and scowled. “You sure she didn’t spit in it first?”

  “I checked, it’s still sealed.”

  We both laughed at the fact that Amy’s hatred for me was so obvious that Marty had felt the need to check she hadn’t tampered with my water. We’d barely spoken since our argument the week before, but evidently I wasn’t the only one to notice the icy stares she’d been throwing my way.

  “So how long were you two married?” Marty asked, kicking at a piece of rubble.

  “Not really sure I want to talk about it,” I replied with a scowl. “All you need to know is I didn’t do what she said I did. She’s fucking blinkered and narrow minded and gave up on us too easily.”

  “Okay.” He raised a brow and turned to walk away. “You know what they say though boss. It’s a thin line between love and hate.”

  “Yeah and you know what else they say, Marty?”

  He gave me a questioning chin lift.

  “It’s best to keep out of your boss’s fucking business, unless you want to be without a job.”

  Marty gave a chuckle and left me to finish my tea, looking over at the lounge window where I knew Amy was working. I could imagine what she was doing; she’d have a pencil in her hair, a finger on her lips and one hip cocked as she studied the position of the mirror she’d hung, or the cushions she’d placed. Either that or she was on the phone giving the decorating contractor shit for not putting the wallpaper up to her satisfaction, or not giving the wall enough coverage with the paint.

  I smiled and shook my head, hating that I still knew her every move, despising myself more for enjoying playing the game of ‘What’s Amy Doing Now?’. I’d played it a lot when she first left, but gradually managed to wean myself off it, but now she was close by, in my fucking air space, I was as addicted to it as fucking Candy Crush and I really didn’t want to be. It made me feel weak and pathetic and guilty because it felt like I was cheating on Mia and that was shit, because despite what Amy might think I was not a cheat.

  Throwing the dregs of my tea onto the ground, I placed the mug next to the bottle of water and got back to knocking shit out of a pile of concrete.

  I looked at my watch and decided it was time I ate some lunch and my stomach agreed as it started growling. Picking up the now empty water bottle and tea mug, I made my way to the back of the house and pushed open the kitchen door. The room had become the focal point for all of us, where I, my guys, Amy, Claudia, and any contractors on site all went to for lunch or a tea break. It was rare Amy and I were in there at the same time, but I’d occasionally catch site of her disappearing back as I walked through the door.

  The kitchen was empty, but I wasn’t totally surprised seeing as I was late eating lunch, so I washed my mug and then went over to the huge fridge, opened it, and pulled out my sandwiches. I was just about to sit down and do some web surfing on my phone while I ate, when I heard shouting from somewhere in the house. Scraping back my chair, I went to the door which led into the huge hallway with its impressive staircase and listened. I could hear it again, someone shouting for help.

  Following the sound, I found myself in a vast s
pace which I knew was going to be a family room, which led onto one of the terraces that Tino had asked for.

  “Hello,” I called.

  “Elijah, help me.”

  It was Amy’s voice and my skin went cold.

  “Amy, where the hell are you?” I asked, anxiously looking around the room, my eyes landing on a pair of upturned step ladders and a couple of crates.

  “I can’t hold on much longer.”

  I looked up and there was Amy, hanging on to a beam which ran the width of the apex of the vaulted ceiling. One of her shoes was hanging on by her big toe and her blouse had come untucked from her tight skirt, giving me a hint of skin.

  Amy squealed and as she dropped a few inches, I was dragged from staring at her gorgeous body as it swung in the air.

  “Okay, I’m coming. Hold on.”

  I ran over and bent to pick up the aluminium ladders, and realised they weren’t high enough and wondering how the hell had she got up there in the first place? Then it dawned on me that the stupid woman had made them higher by putting them on the crates. Thinking that she really needed to go on a health and safety course, I didn’t have a chance to think about positioning them onto the crates before I was clonked on the head by a red, stiletto heeled shoe.

  “Fuck,” I cried and looked upwards.

  Amy was now only hanging on by the tips of her fingers and was dangerously close to falling. I looked at the ladder, looked at the crates, and then looked at her and knew that even if I got it in place, timing meant that she was still going to fall and would either land on them, hurting herself, or land on the floor and potentially kill herself.

  “Amy,” I cried jumping to my feet and placing myself directly beneath her. “Let go, I’m going to catch you.”

  “No chance,” she grunted. “Just put the ladder back up.”

  “No you’ll-.”

  I didn’t have time to tell her that she might fall on them and hurt herself, because she screamed and came hurtling towards me. With only seconds to determine where she might land, I moved slightly to the left and caught her with a rush of air from my lungs. My knees buckled slightly with the force of her landing, but taking a half step back with one foot, I managed to stay upright.

  “You okay?” I asked, my eyes scouring her face.

  “Oh shit, I thought I was going to die.” A hand went to her mouth as she looked up.

  I followed her gaze, at what I guessed was a twenty to twenty-five feet drop and swallowed hard.

  “Yeah, I think that was a distinct possibility,” I replied, my heart beating faster than was healthy.

  “Oh shit,” she repeated and burst into tears.

  “Hey,” I soothed, tightening my arms around her. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, ssh.”

  Her body started to tremble as the shock at what could have happened set in. With my own legs shaking at the realisation, I moved us over to the wall and I slid down it, Amy still held tightly in my arms. When my arse hit the floor, I leaned forward and without thinking kissed her forehead.

  “Amy, come on, you’re fine. You’re safe. I wasn’t going to let you fall.”

  “What if you hadn’t come in,” she hiccupped. “I might have died, or fucking paralysed myself. I’m so bloody stupid.”

  “What the hell were you doing up there anyway?” I looked around the huge room and couldn’t see anything else in there. It was still just a shell with bare walls, although they were at least painted now after the decorators had been in.

  “This end of the room’s going to be a play area, and I want to put an indoor swing up for the kids. I wanted to check the bolt size I’ll need.”

  “And you didn’t think to ask the builder, or even leave it to whoever is putting the swing up?” I let my head drop back against the wall as I looked at the drop once more.

  “I’ll be putting it up,” she grumbled, shifting in my arms.

  “No you fucking won’t. You’ve already nearly killed yourself once, you’re not getting another go at it. I’ll get the correct length ladders and either I or one of the guys will do it for you.”

  Amy’s eyes narrowed as the temperature around us dropped considerably.

  “I can do it myself, thank you. I’ve been doing it for the last five years on my own.”

  “Oh and who’s fault is that?”

  If I thought the look she’d given me before was murderous, the one she gave me then was that of an assassin about to finish their kill.

  “Let me up,” she snapped, pushing against me. “I don’t want you touching me.”

  “Fine by me.” Feeling anger bubbling inside me at her sourness, I unceremoniously tipped her from my lap, watching as she scrambled to her feet. “And it was a pleasure saving your fucking life, don’t mention it.”

  “Thank you, I really appreciate it,” she spat back.

  “You’re so fucking ungrateful, it’s unbelievable,” I replied, standing up. “Well next time, give someone else a shout.”

  “There won’t be a next time. I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone.”

  Amy’s face was emotionless as she stared at me and I couldn’t help but feel pained. Where had the warm, fun, sweet, Amy gone? Had our break up really turned her into this hard-faced woman who did nothing but snipe and complain? Maybe it had, but I refused to blame myself for that – I had done nothing wrong.

  “You may not Amy, but be careful,” I said, exhaling. “Get some proper ladders and make sure someone is with you.”

  She gave me a very slight, sharp nod of her head and turned and hobbled to pick up her shoe, lifting a foot behind her to slip it on. I took that as my cue to leave and walked away with my heart still thudding in my chest, not sure if it was because of what may have happened, or because I’d had her in my arms once more, or because when I walked back into the kitchen, I noticed the vase with a bouquet of hand tied wild flowers on the table.

  Elijah

  aged 19

  “I can’t believe that you’re doing this,” Alex grumbled, as he heaved the bag of lanterns and candles out of the back of his car.

  “He’s doing it because he’s grown a vagina,” Luc added.

  “And you two are a pair of morons, so I think you should shut the fuck up.” I threw them both a glare that hopefully reinforced that I did indeed want them to shut the fuck up.

  It was Valentine’s Day and I wanted to do something special for Amy. She’d been working really hard at Uni’ and we’d not had much time together since Christmas, so I was going to change that, thanks to the old club house me and Sam, my brother, used to play in when we were about ten and twelve. I say club house, it was Dad’s old shed that he’d kept his gardening tools in before he had a garage built.

  “I also can’t believe you’re going to get her to spend the night in that shit hole.” Alex pointed at the shed. “She must fucking love you.”

  “She doesn’t know,” Luc said with a grin. “She probably thinks numb nuts is taking her to a swanky hotel.”

  I drew in a calming breath, pretty sure I’d be burying their bodies in my dad’s vegetable patch if they didn’t stop bitching like a pair of high school mean girls.

  “Amy knows I don’t have the money for a hotel, and yeah she does love me, so she’ll love this. Anyway, that’s what you two are here for, to help me clean the place up.”

  I opened up the creaking shed door and peered inside, suddenly wondering whether the boys were right. Maybe I should have asked my dad for a loan, because the shed was indeed a shit hole.

  “When was the last time you actually set foot in there?” Alex asked, looking over my shoulder.

  “About three years ago,” I groaned. “And that was only to stash my dirty mags because my gran was having my room when she stayed after her hip operation.”

  “There’s dirty mags in there.” An excited Lucas pushed past us and almost tripped over his own feet in his desperation to get into the shed. “Where are they?” he called over his shoulder.

 
; “You’re not spending the next hour looking at spank mags,” I groaned. “You’re here to help clean up, not get cramp from wanking all afternoon.”

  “As if I’d wank in front of you two.” He gave us a disgusted look.

  “I seem to remember you winning a game of Hit the Biscuit when we were thirteen,” Alex offered with a laugh. “In front of five of us.”

  I looked at Lucas and then Alex. “You dirty fucker.”

  “Hey I wasn’t the one that had to eat the biscuit. There are definitely benefits of not being able to last long.”

  “Fucking hell, who had to eat the biscuit? Not you?” I asked Alex.

  “Piss off, I came third.”

  “Literally.”

  Alex nodded and smiled proudly. “Yeah. Mr Average, that’s me.”

  “We didn’t make Zak eat it, don’t worry,” Lucas offered, moving around the shed looking for the magazines. “You know though, I never understood that game. The one who comes last, comes last, yet when you start having sex it’s a good thing to take longer to come.”

  We all thought about it for a second and then nodded in agreement.

  “Elijah, this is beautiful,” Amy gasped as she followed the path of candles in lanterns that the boys and I had laid out earlier. “It’s so romantic. Thank you.”

  She swivelled around to face me, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me. I wrapped her in a tight hug, pressing her as close to me as possible. As her soft lips moved with mine, I felt the blood heating in my veins, just as it always did when I was close to her. It didn’t matter if she was in my arms or a few feet away from me, my body, my senses, knew that she was mine.

  “It’s perfect,” Amy whispered.

  “There’s more,” I said, stroking my knuckle down her soft cheek. “I hope you like it. It’s not much, but we haven’t had much time together recently and I wanted it to be just us tonight. No one else around, not my parents or brother, not yours and certainly not our friends. I just wish I could have taken you somewhere better, because you deserve the best Amy, you really do.”