by A. M. Wilson
Carly is still clutching my hand as he turns towards the door. I’m trying to hold it together until he’s gone, but inside I’m breaking apart.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I throw myself onto my back. No tears, no anger, I’m just spent. That’s the problem with unconditional love. No matter how badly a person screws up, forgiveness is always within reach, even when I wish it wasn’t.
My best friend brushes the strands of dark, brown hair out of my face. “You okay?” she asks, the concern on her face tearing at my heart. Sitting up, I scrub the heel of my hand over my tired eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I try to smile, but I know it’s weak. Carly doesn’t comment, instead she fills my wine glass. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” We clank glasses, and I take a hefty gulp. Just as I reposition myself on the couch, another loud tap sounds from the door. Carly and I exchange a questioning look.
“This is getting ridiculous,” I mutter, stomping into the foyer. “Can I help you?” I ask when I fling the door open to an unfamiliar face. The man before me looks to be about six feet tall, with some bulk and that softness that comes with age. The baldness of his head and wrinkles around his eyes help me place him around my parents’ age—nearing sixty. The scent of stale cigarettes wafts from his stained white tee and ripped Levi’s near where I’m standing in the doorway.
“Sorry to bother you, Ma’am. I live in apartment 316.”
“Okay?” I reply, questioningly.
“Oh, right. This package arrived outside my door, but the address is clearly your apartment. Wanted to return it to its rightful owner. Goodnight, Ma’am.” The man walks back down the hallway without another word.
I call out my thanks, but he’s already disappeared down the stairwell. Closing and locking the door behind me, I study the package in my hands. The box is small, roughly four-by-four inches, black, and tied with a forest green bow.
“What’s that?”
Carly’s voice startles me, causing the box to fall from my fingertips. It hits the floor with a soft thud. Shrugging my shoulders, I bend down to retrieve the box.
“I’m not sure. Neighbor said it was delivered to him by accident.” I toss it on the couch between Carly and I as if it’s about to grow teeth and bite.
“Are you going to open it? Do you think Elias sent it?”
“I don’t think so. Why would he when I’m staying with him?”
“Oh, right. Only one way to find out what it is,” Carly teases. I can tell she’s trying to lighten the heavy cloud in the atmosphere, but I’m not particularly in the mood for games.
Carly hands me the box with a jerky shake of her hand, clearly gesturing for me to take it. The green satin ribbon pulls smoothly from the bow and falls unceremoniously to the carpet. My pulse spikes as I remove the lid. A folded white piece of paper sits nestled inside, so I lower my hand with the box to my knee and pull out the note to read it.
Keep this safe for me. I’m going to want it back.
“Holy shit. Is that—ˮ Carly’s whispered question pulls me from the cryptic note, and I gaze into the box in my hand.
The black square box is lined with hair.
Human hair.
Blonde human hair.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Babe, open up!” Elias’s deep voice penetrates the door along with several rapid bangs I’m assuming are his fist.
Pulling my knees tighter to my chest, I curl deeper into myself. This can’t be happening. I squeeze my eyes shut, but all I can think about is that hair. Katie’s hair. It has to be. My stomach pitches. I’m going crazy. Why is he tormenting me? What did I ever do to deserve this?
Soft voices pull my attention from an internal retreat. I look up in time to see Elias entering my apartment followed by Sin. My handsome boyfriend’s face is drawn with worry and anger as he strides heavily towards me.
Without a thought, a sob tears from my throat, and I throw myself into his arms. His arms band around me with a reassuring tightness, causing the tears to flow harder. Rough, choking sobs shake my frame as I cling to him with all of my remaining strength. If I could burrow inside of him and live there, I would. My breathing turns to hiccups, and the familiar squeeze of hyperventilation causes panic to spike.
Elias lowers us to the couch, and I rear back from his lap. Eyes wide with fear, my chest spasms. My body demands oxygen, but no matter how hard I draw breath, I can’t get any. Fingers claw at my shirt, trying to break the confines of my lungs.
Sensing my distress, Elias cups my face in his large palms and rests his forehead against mine. “Listen to me. Listen to my voice, Marlee. You have to breathe. Slow it down. Nice deep breaths. You’re okay.”
Through my panic, I can feel him stroking my hair. It’s not enough. The grip is so strong; I can feel my breaths increasing. A horrible wheezing sounds with each ragged inhale.
“Shit,” he mutters as he lies back on the couch. Pulling my face to his chest, his body slowly rocks as he takes slow, deep breaths.
“Feel me. Breathe with me. Feel my chest move. I’ve got you. Nobody is going to hurt you. Nice and slow, babe,” he whispers into my hair. Somehow, his words penetrate the fog, and I try to do as he says. His body cocoons mine in a pillow of warmth and safety. “That’s my girl,” he praises when my chest slows its heaving. “Just keep breathing with me.”
“Here,” a gruff voice sounds from beside us. Raising my eyes, I meet Sin’s dark brown ones, and I’m surprised to see a softness in his face. I take the glass of water he’s offering with a trembling hand.
“Thank you,” I croak; the rough sound of my voice making me wince.
“No problem, girl.”
The cool water soothes the scratchiness of my throat, and I’m grateful these guys showed up before I fell apart. Not to discredit our friendship, but Carly would have had one hell of a time trying to calm me down. There’s no logical explanation for the feeling, but one touch from Elias is enough to dull my nerves. The more skin on skin contact, the better.
“Can you show me the box?” Elias asks gently. He’s still holding me tightly against his chest, and I listen to the steady beat of his heart.
“It’s on the table.” I let him shift me to the side, and Carly sits beside me, grabbing my hand firmly in hers. My gaze wanders from the evil black object as the men discuss. There’s nothing particularly gruesome about a pile of hair, except thinking about whom it came from hollows out my stomach.
I catch sight of the pictures of DJ and me on my bookshelf. Thinking back to an hour ago, a pang of sadness ricochets through my heart. He needs my forgiveness. Even though I’m so angry with him, I’d take dealing with his betrayal over this psycho stalker any day. If he’s willing to work on our relationship, so am I. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. God, I miss him so damn much.
“We need to turn this in to the police,” Elias announces.
“I agree,” Sin adds while moving into my kitchen. The sound of drawers being open and closed confuses me until he returns carrying a plastic Ziploc bag.
“Wait!” I call, stopping Sin in his tracks. Elias’s arms tighten around my waist to get my attention, but I ignore him. “We can’t take that to the police.”
This time, Elias wraps his fingers around my chin, turning me to face him. “Look at me,” he commands. Regardless of the nature of this situation, my stomach still swoops at his deep, rumbly voice. “Why not? It could have evidence—fingerprints.”
“Yeah, my fingerprints. I’ve touched it several times now.”
“Babe, we need to turn it in. This could be paramount in taking down Travis.”
I scurry off his lap and stand in front of them, crossing my arms across my chest. “In case you’ve forgotten, Elias, or haven’t filled your friend in, I had a detective at my desk asking me questions. Nobody will believe me if I say this just showed up on my doorstep. This is just another piece of evidence they can use to point the finger at me.”
&n
bsp; “That’s absurd,” Sin puts in with his gruff voice.
My spine sheathes in steel, and for the first time since I met him, he doesn’t scare me. I pivot slowly to face him and contort my face into a harsh glare. “Can’t say this is really any of your business. This is my life at stake. My reputation. And I say no.”
“You don’t know the first thing about me, girl, but I’ll be the one to tell you that I can help you. I know what I’m doing.”
“He’s right,” Elias adds, standing beside me and joining the conversation. “We both do. You can trust us.”
My glare swerves to Elias. “Trust you? I do trust you, but you can’t throw that in my face. How do you know the heat won’t shift to me? Can you promise me that?”
“This could be a big mistake,” Elias mutters while exchanging looks with Sin. They probably know each other well enough to have a silent conversation, but I’m past caring. I drove past that pit stop an hour ago.
“So could putting all my trust in you two.”
If words were a bomb, mine just detonated. Elias’s face falls as if I slapped him before shifting back into an angry mask. Sin curses under his breath. I know the second the words leave my mouth that I don’t mean them, but there’s no way to take them back.
“Look, today has been absolutely crazy. Before this whole mess, my brother showed up unexpectedly, and my emotions are running wild. I’m sorry.” My fingers gather the hair on my crown in agitation. “What I meant to say is I have to trust myself too, and my gut is telling me no. I’m just—” My words cut off as Elias pulls me into his chest.
“Scared,” he finishes for me, caressing my back with soothing strokes. “I get it. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we’re all here for. I can give you tonight to think, but please consider what we’re telling you, okay?” He gives me a gentle squeeze, and I listen intently to the sound of his steady breathing. I imagine taking the strength from him and putting it into me, building me up.
“Okay. I can do that.”
When I first met Elias, I knew he had all the power in the world to hurt me, and I was terrified he would, never knowing what moment would make him want to walk away. But now? He still has all the power to hurt me, but I’m starting to believe he never would.
Sin clears his throat loudly. “Time for me to go.”
“Me too,” Carly pipes in. She walks over and grabs me tightly by the shoulders. I hug her fiercely to me.
“Thank you for being here. I love you.”
“No place I’d rather be, doll. Love you too. Keep that head up and call me if you need anything.”
Exhaling a shaky breath, I reply, “I will.”
She picks up her purse and starts toward the door. “I mean it,” she throws out over her shoulder, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Yes, Mother.”
Sin approaches me and gathers me into a bone-crushing hug. “Uh,” I mumble, completely at a loss for what to do here. I don’t know if I’m stunned from shock, or fear he might squeeze the lights out of me.
“Take care, girl,” he says gruffly into my ear then plants a soft kiss against the side of my head. Setting me down, he leaves without another word.
My wide-eyed gaze pins Elias. “I’m not sure what just happened.”
The corners of his lips twitch, and it’s clear he’s trying not to laugh. “He likes you,” he teases.
“I’m not sure if I want him to like me. I don’t know what to do with this version of him.” My words cause Elias to bark out a laugh.
“Trust me, you’d much rather be on his good side.”
***
Sunshine casts a warm glow throughout my bedroom the next morning. Yawning, I stretch out my stiff limbs before climbing out of bed to use the bathroom. There is no sign of Elias in my bedroom, but I think I hear noises coming from beyond my closed bedroom door. I pad into the bathroom to fix myself before I investigate.
Taking in my appearance in the bathroom mirror, I groan. I am a freaking mess. My hair is tangled and matted. I have dark black streaks from what was my mascara running down my pale cheeks. Even though I slept all night, my eyes are dark with baggy circles beneath them.
I grab a washcloth, wet it, and begin to scrub my face, paying particular attention around my eyes. I bet Elias loves what a mess I am right now. He deserves a freaking gold star for taking care of me last night the way he did.
After determining my presence is suitable enough to wander out and find my boyfriend, I drag on my robe and duck out of my room. Lucky me, I find him situated in front of the stove cooking what appears to be breakfast food. My favorite.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Elias turns from the stove, leaning up against the countertop, and he grins at me. His smile is so gorgeous.
“You can’t be talking about me. You did see me this morning when you woke up, right?”
“You’re always beautiful, Marlee. Even with makeup smeared all over your face, sleep in your eyes, and rumpled hair. Still stunningly beautiful.”
My eyes shoot skyward. Even at twenty-two, I still find it difficult to accept a compliment. “What you cookin’ over there Romeo?”
“I’m making myself some eggs and pancakes and bacon. Mmm mmm. I ran out for some homemade maple syrup. Why? Are you hungry or something?”
“Not if you’re going to be like that,” I grumble. “Did you make coffee?” I’m halfway to the coffee pot before the words are out of my mouth.
He laughs that low, deep sound that resonates in my heart. There are few sounds more beautiful that Elias’s laugh. “I did.”
“At least you can do something right.”
“No breakfast for you.”
The steaming hot mug between my palms wakes me up, and I take a welcome sip. “You better turn around before you burn your breakfast.” Elias turns around right as I catch the whiff of something that’s probably a little darker than it should be.
“Damn it. This is your pancake because you’re distracting me.”
“Ah, yes Master. Feeding me your unworthy scraps of food.”
It’s as if last night never happened. I love that about Elias. He’s trying to make me comfortable after my meltdown and family drama of epic proportions last night.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I ask, scooting onto a stool.
“It’s going to be a beautiful day. I thought we could get outside and enjoy it.” He plops down beside me at the breakfast bar, placing a plate in front of each of us. Breakfast smells amazing, that mouthwatering scent of bacon and maple. My stomach growls.
“You better get started, your stomach sounds angry.”
I laugh. “Moving on from my noisy body, what did you have in mind?” I shove a forkful of pancake into my mouth and sigh, my eyes closing. “Mmm,” I moan, almost in a full-blown breakfast-gasm.
Elias chuckles around a bite of his own food. “I thought we could go hiking.”
“That’s a great idea.” I can’t answer fast enough. It has been years since I’ve been able to enjoy a real summer, the one before my senior year of high school being the last time. Travis wasn’t fond of the outdoors, and he liked me spending all my time with him.
“Great. We can leave after breakfast then. I have extra clothes and shoes for myself in my car.”
We finish our meal quickly and load the dishwasher before we leave, eager to get out into the fresh air and sunshine. Minnesota doesn’t have mountains for hiking. Instead, the trails wind deep into the forest, the terrain filled with winding paths of dirt through lush greenery. Elias sports a backpack, with food for lunch and a couple bottles of water, leaving my hands empty.
He loops his fingers with mine as we enter the trail. The trail marker informs us its 6.5 miles long. It should knock a good five hours out of our day if we spend some time to stop and eat lunch.
The sky is perfect, clear blue and cloudless, the forest alive with the sounds of nature. Birds are chirping up high in the canopies, a bee is pollenating a group of flow
ers near my feet, and some critter scampers off into the woods as we walk by. The warm smell of leaves, both dead and alive, dirt, and nature is refreshing.
We begin our walk in silence, both of us lost to our own thoughts. I work on clearing out the remnants of last night’s events. It doesn’t take long before my body begins to heat, and I pause my steps to pull off my hoodie. Handing it to Elias, he stuffs it into the backpack before lacing his fingers through mine once again. His lips descend on the back of my palm.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, half an hour into our walk. He helps me step over a newly fallen tree lying across the trail.
“Elias,” I respond, half in warning and half in exasperation.
“You can’t hold everything inside. It’s what I’m here for. This is the perfect opportunity to let it out. I need to know how you are doing with everything. Last night was not easy for you.”
I don’t have to look at him to know how serious he’s being. I can feel it in the hold he has on my fingers, in the tone of his voice. A part of me, the old part, wants to keep it all locked inside. I’d never shared anything about my past with anyone. Bottling up my emotions was all I knew to do. However, another part of me, an entirely new part, wants—needs—to let it out. I don’t need to war with myself long to know which part of me will win.
“Honestly? I’m a still scared, but mostly I’m doing okay. I’ve thought about what happened last night, and I realized I was irrational. I think, um, I think you guys were right. We should turn the box in.” My throat feels dry, so I steal a water bottle for a quick drink.
“You have me now. Don’t forget that. I promise to take care of you.”
I could hear those words a thousand times, and they would still have the same effect on me as they do now. I squeeze his hand tightly, trying to convey through my touch how much his words mean to me.