by E V Darcy
She tried to move, to turn her head to pinpoint the voice, but she couldn’t. Everything felt so heavy as if the air itself was pressing her down onto whatever was beneath her.
Even her eyes wouldn’t cooperate. They firmly refused to flutter open and see where she was, who was speaking, and what they wanted. The beep-beep-beep began to get quicker, each little ping merging into the next.
God, that was annoying.
She had the briefest sensation of wanting to smack whatever was making the noise, wanting to raise her hand and hit it as the beeps became one long drawn-out sound…
~ ~ ~ ~
The next time Ellie became aware, she didn’t feel so heavy. Instead, there was a tension in her muscles as if she’d been still for too long. She wanted to stretch her whole body, bend her legs and her back, to ease the stiff feeling she felt throughout.
She tried to do such a thing and groaned as her knees protested at being moved, even a tiny fraction of an inch. They felt as bad as they had years ago when she was still a teen being forced to play field hockey in school, when that bitch Jenna had purposefully whacked them with her hockey stick.
She tried to force her eyes open, but they were also slow to respond. It was as if her whole body was fighting her, and she wanted to scream in frustration. Finally, her eyes fluttered open slowly, feeling as if she hadn’t peered through them in an age, and Ellie desperately wracked her brain for what the hell had happened.
‘Ellie?’ Marie’s voice called her name groggily; she sounded as if she’d just woken up too. Where had they been? Where the hell was she?
The room was dim, just a single light illuminated one corner, behind the spot where Marie was trying to uncurl herself from a chair. There was another bed next to hers, but when she tried to turn her head to see if anyone was in it, pain exploded throughout her skull, making her vision blur, causing her to hiss and screw her eyes shut.
Okay, so no sudden movements.
‘Ellie, you’re awake!’ Marie’s voice was still hushed as if she was desperately trying not to disturb someone else. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Rough,’ her throat managed to croak the one word; it felt like it was on fire and she desperately needed—
‘Fire,’ she whispered as the memories of fighting against the smoke came flooding back. She felt her eyes well up; it had been so hot, so dark, so difficult to breathe and she’d—
‘Oh, Honey.’ Her friend scooted closer, grasped one of her hands while the other gently stroked away the tears that fell. ‘You’re okay, you’re a hero,’ she whispered.
‘No,’ Ellie protested, as she thought of how she had left Marc in the ruined room. ‘Tyler?’ she asked as she recalled pulling him away from the body he was curled against. His own father’s body. The only person in the world he really had to call family.
And she hadn’t saved him; she’d left his body behind to burn in the rubble.
A huge sob bubbled up and escaped her lips, a harrowed wail pouring out of her mouth as grief tore at her soul. His last actions to her may not have been the best, but he had made her feel again. He’d made her come alive under his touch. He had made her want to love, even if he’d broken her heart in the process.
She squeezed her eyes tightly, trying in vain to stop the tears from falling as her brain supplied questions that would never be answered.
Why had he acted that way? Why hadn’t he kept his word? Maybe if he had, she’d have been there with them, could have saved him too, gotten him out with Tyler.
Why couldn’t he have loved her back?
She choked on that thought. Loved her… back?
Oh God, she had loved him, had wanted more than the weekend with him, just as he had kept promising…
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ Marie rushed to soothe her. ‘Tyler is fine, shush, Ellie, shush.’ She wiped at the tears that slid down Ellie’s face. ‘You got him out, he’s alive, he needed some help breathing and clearing his lungs—like you did—but he’s been awake for a day now and is doing fine.’
‘He’s okay?’ she croaked through the sniffles. ‘Does he know about—?’
‘Miss Roscoe.’ A man in a doctor’s coat interrupted her question about whether Tyler was aware he was now an orphan. ‘You’ve finally decided to come back to the world.’ The doctor smiled and stepped up to her other side. ‘You’ve done fantastically well considering how long you were in the building for and the amount of smoke you inhaled. It was a good job you were found when you were.’
Ellie merely blinked up at the man.
‘We took you off oxygen this morning, but if you feel wheezy, light-headed, or struggling to catch your breath, feel free to pop that mask back on.’ He motioned to the oxygen mask and tank at her side. ‘We’re going to keep you in for a few days for observation while we bring you off your medication. Any questions?’
‘Water?’ she asked, her throat still felt as if she had swallowed a bucket of sand.
‘I’ll send a nurse in with a glass of ice chips,’ the doctor said as he pulled a clipboard from the wall beside her and began to take note of the machines next to her. ‘I want you to suck on them only—no crunching okay?’
She nodded.
‘Would you like to sit up?’ he asked as he closed the chart and placed it back on the wall. She nodded and the bed, slowly and gently, began to rise up until she was half way between lying and sitting.
‘Now,’ the doctor turned to Marie. ‘You’re not to keep her up too long. Miss Roscoe still needs plenty of rest.’
‘Of course, Doctor,’ the blonde fluttered her lashes demurely, but Ellie noticed there was no flash of interest in her eyes. She seemed to be working on automatic pilot. Ellie frowned and turned away. She slowly rolled her head to look towards the other bed. The dark blue curtain was mostly pulled around it, but she could see Tyler’s little body curled up under the blankets, one hand pushed under his round cheek, as he slept peacefully.
‘He’s been asking about you all day,’ Marie said quietly as she followed her friend’s line of sight. ‘He’s been desperate for you to wake up. We brought him in here to quieten him.’
Of course, Ellie reasoned, he ‘d connected to her recently, and with his dad gone he’d need someone he’d be able to communicate with.
Fuck, she thought. His hearing would make it even harder for him to be placed with a family, despite the fortune he’d inherit. Perhaps his old nanny could take him?
‘He knows he’s not coming back,’ Marie’s soft voice, tinged with sadness, cut into her thoughts. ‘He asked for him right away, cried for a while and then, when he couldn’t find out, went into hysterics—that’s why they brought him in here. They had to move him down from the Children’s Department just to get him to calm down. He thought you’d died too.’
Ellie felt a sharp stab in her heart. She was never going to see the boy again after they were released. She balled her hands into fists as she fought back another sob.
This wasn’t fair.
Marc had decided to quit, he was going to be a stay-at-home dad, dote on his son and ensure he grew up to be a bright and happy young man.
It wasn’t fair.
Tyler should be bouncing around with joy that his papa wasn’t going away anymore, not worried about who would take him in, who would love him now.
She watched the young boy for a while, silent in her thoughts, swearing that she’d ensure he was taken care of. She would act for him in the days, weeks, and months to come.
I promise you, I won’t rest until I know he’s safe, well, and loved. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you too. I love you, you bastard, she prayed silently to Marc before she slipped back to sleep.
~ ~ ~ ~
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Ellie woke next. It took her a second to remember where she was and why before she glanced across the room towards a still sleeping Tyler. She smiled; he was exactly the way he had been when she’d fallen asleep. She’d have to get Marie to call Lord Holling
brook, perhaps he could get Her Majesty involved.
She shook her head. The Queen wouldn’t have time for that. She pondered his Lordship’s connection with Prime Minster Edwards but again thought better of it. He was currently restructuring the Cabinet after a scandal in the Home Office.
Actually, Sir Peter Ashcroft, the new head of MI6, might be able to help, she thought. He had been after her attention for a while and kept telling her if she needed anything, to never hesitate to call him. While she was sure he was just trying to win her affection, she was certainly going to hold him to his offers if he—
‘You’re awake,’ a deep, groggy, yet relieved voice came from Tyler’s direction.
‘Yeah,’ she croaked distractedly, her throat still raw, as she continued to plan how to help the boy next to her. The UK was eight hours ahead. If she called them in an hour, it would be just after lunch and—
‘I— Umm…’ the man’s voice hesitated. ‘I know you’re prob—’
‘Shhh!’ She waved her hand in his general direction, casting whoever it was barely a glance as she racked her brain with what to say to Sir Peter; how did one go about asking for this kind of thing? What was she even proposing? Did she want to foster Tyler herself? It wasn’t like—
Her thoughts screeched to a stop as she slowly turned her head back towards where the man was standing, in the parting of the curtain, blocking Tyler from her view. There was no way she’d seen what her mind was telling her she had. It wasn’t possible.
But there he was.
Her stunned gaze roamed over him, taking in his chest that was definitely breathing, his lips that were parted in a hesitant smile until she met the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.
‘Marc!’ she breathed, her heart raced and her chest constricted. Bollocks, was she about to have a heart attack on top of everything? How the hell was he standing there? He’d been dead on the floor of the hotel; she had personally checked his pulse, felt his still chest… Marie had said Tyler knew!
‘Ellie, are you okay?’ He moved towards her quickly, reaching out for the oxygen mask and the call button. ‘What is it? What can I do?’
‘You’re… alive!’ she exclaimed as her hands stopped his from reaching their goal by grabbing hold of them, turning them over and examining them as if they held the answer to the impossible. ‘How—You were—I thought—’ Her eyes met his as her hands ran up his arms, pulling him towards her. He fell with a soft umph against her as she held him close, frightened this might all be a dream and she’d wake up at any moment to the harsh reality of his absence.
‘Of course, I’m alive,’ he murmured against her neck as he returned her embrace, his arms tight around her. ‘Ellie did you—You thought I was dead?’
‘Tyler… He was…’ She looked over Marc’s shoulder to where the boy slept and tried to specifically recall the moment when she’d found Marc.
The smoke had been thick and the room getting so hot. The sprinklers had been throwing water down like a waterfall, blinding her even more as she’d struggled to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t been able to see properly, had only been able to count her steps and feel about, blindly… So why had she thought it was Marc?
Because of Tyler.
‘If it wasn’t you, who was it?’ she asked.
Marc pulled back to look at her. ‘Frank,’ he said softly, his voice filled with grief. ‘Frank was watching him while Sonya took a business call upstairs about my resignation.’ Marc’s eyes shimmered with tears that he tried to blink back. ‘Tyler said Frank pushed him out of the way when the wall fell.’
Ellie gasped at the image of the big burly man saving the sweet little boy. She felt sadness for the loss of Frank, but a guilty relief filled her heart as she took in the man safe and well at her side.
‘I thought it was you,’ she confessed, barely audible, as she dropped her gaze down to the bed. ‘When I saw Tyler, I thought I had left you…’
‘Hey,’ he said softly, his fingers gently gripping her chin and angling her head so she’d meet his gaze. ‘I’m alive and well, and thanks to you—and Frank—so is Tyler. Thank you for that, for saving my son, especially after how I treated you. Ellie, I—’
She pulled her head from his fingers and turned away.
‘You don’t need to say anything, Marc, I got the message loud and clear.’ She took as deep a breath as she could manage without coughing. ‘As for saving Tyler, I got lost in the smoke, it was just luck I found him, but even so I would never leave him—nor anyone who I could help—to die because you don’t return my feelings—’
‘But I do,’ he rushed to interrupt her. ‘I do, Ellie. I got scared by how much I felt so fast and I just…’ Marc trailed off, but he certainly had her attention and she allowed him a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘I haven’t felt anything for anyone for such a long time—I mean nothing, not even a flicker of attraction—until I met you. And… And you’re a fan—which to me is just the worst thing you could have been because I don’t trust fans, people who follow me blindly, who love me for no reason other than I’m famous. People who become obsessed with me just because they’ve watched me on their screens—’
‘People like Kelly,’ Ellie interrupted. Marc nodded and he dropped her gaze in guilt. ‘I’m not her, you know.’
‘I know that, I do, but the fear…’
Ellie got that. Understood how easy it was to push your fears onto someone else, to tar all members of the opposite sex with the same brush as the person who had hurt you. She had done it for years after Andrew.
She exhaled, noisily, and Marc must have taken that to mean she was giving up, because he jumped to her defence, his eyes burning with conviction.
‘You’re not her, you’re nothing like her. What scares me is how quickly I fell for you, how the moment I saw you, I wanted you. Maybe not in my heart, but in my bed, and I hadn’t felt that in years. And then when I finally got to talk to you, you were so different to what I was expecting. You didn’t fawn over me; you were so totally unimpressed by me, acted as if I was worth little more than your contempt—’
‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘Fuck no, it was sexy as hell!’
Ellie burst out laughing at the confession and felt her heart lift. He didn’t hate her, hadn’t used her, or betrayed her.
‘Ellie, I know it’s only been days since we met’—he took a breath—‘but in that time I feel like I’ve found what’s been missing in my life. I love you. I’m so sorry I didn’t say it before, I’m sorry that I—’
He didn’t get to finish his apology; her kiss took the words right out of his mouth. He wrapped one arm around her, scooping her up and pulling her close as the other braced him against the bed and stopped them falling back against the mattress.
‘I love you too,’ Ellie whispered as they broke apart and Marc dropped another kiss to her lips.
‘Stay with me,’ he asked between kisses. ‘Don’t leave. Don’t go back to the UK, stay here.’
‘Okay,’ she replied simply as she kissed him back.
‘Papa, That Lady!’ Tyler’s surprised, but happy voice, interrupted them and the two of them laughed against one another’s lips before they turned to the boy and motioned for him to join them.
As he scrambled up onto the bed to cuddle between them and ask a hundred questions, Ellie told Marc they really needed to teach Tyler how to say her name.
EPILOGUE
Marc blinked away the sleep from his eyes, unwilling to take his arms from around the warm body next to him. For the first few weeks, it had felt strange to wake up in his bed next to someone after so many years of sleeping alone, but it was certainly a welcome feeling and, after a month of such luxury, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
It was his phone vibrating behind him on the bedside table that disturbed his slumber, and with a groan, he rolled over to check the time.
Way too early to be awake.
The number that flashed up under the phone’s clock was
an out-of-state one he didn’t recognise, so he swiped it away with this thumb. He was about to roll over again and burrow back down into the bed and Ellie’s warmth when the phone started vibrating again.
‘I swear I’ll throw that thing across the room in a minute.’ It was Ellie’s voice, muffled by the pillow. The first thing he’d certainly learnt from their bed-sharing was that Ellie was not a morning person.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered, dismissing the call again, but almost immediately it began to shake in his hand once more. He frowned at the device before finally answering.
‘Marc!’ came Luc Truman’s voice. ‘Thank fuck, Dude!’
Marc sat bolt upright in bed, the blankets falling from him and causing Ellie to grumble as she tried raising them around her shoulders again. ‘Luc! Where are you?’ He turned and shook Ellie awake, ignoring her glare and motioned to her to get her phone. It had been weeks since he’d heard from his friend after the disappearance; it was reported he’d been kidnapped from the convention, even if Marc had tried to tell them differently. Linda was up in arms, insisting he wouldn’t do such a thing and had been appealing to the public to look out for her husband, for his release, that money was no object… a reward, a ransom, whatever they wanted…
‘Have you gotten away from the kidnappers?’ He needed to keep to the public story just in case it was as Linda and the police thought. He swung his leg out of bed, grabbed his robe from the chair and fastened it quickly around his waist as he began to search for a pen and paper.
‘I haven’t been kidnapped. I left of my own accord.’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone. I saw you leave.’ Luc swore down the line at his comment. ‘Luc what the fuck is going on?’ Marc heard Ellie gasp and immediately she started dialling someone.
‘I’m in some deep shit, Marc.’ Marc frowned harder as he finally found a small pencil and scrap of paper peeking from his still unpacked bags—it bore the hotel’s insignia from the convention. He quickly made a note that he could hear a truck’s horn—a truck stop? Motel?