Elliott Redeemed

by Scarlett Cole

  “No worries,” he said. “Glad we could help. I’m heading over to Jordan’s for a while. Catch you later.”

  Kendalee walked into the foyer and dropped her bag on the leather bench by the door. Something smelled delicious, and her stomach rumbled in protest. It had been seven hours since she’d eaten anything, and she was starved. She gasped when she looked through the archway to the dining room. The large table was set for two, but the setting was just like one of the pins on her Perfect Date board. White pillar candles in all shapes and sizes decorated the table, some in glass jars, others standing on the little coasters. She stepped into room and walked over to the table. White freesia, tulips, gerberas, and lilies of the valley sat in squat vases, mixed with lots of greens. There were even little menu cards on the white plates that were edged in silver.

  SUMMER GREENS SALAD WITH FRESH GOAT CHEESE, STRAWBERRIES, AND ALMOND SLIVERS

  GRILLED PACIFIC SALMON WITH SAUTÉED SWISS CHARD, FINGERLING POTATOES, AND HOLLANDAISE SAUCE

  CHOCOLATE MOUSSE

  “Hey, I thought I heard you come in,” Elliott said, and she dropped the menu quickly. His hands snaked around her middle and he kissed the side of her neck in a move that was way too intimate yet didn’t last anywhere near long enough. “Thought you might be hungry.”

  Kiss. Menu. Table setting. Kiss. The move made her melt, just like the kiss they’d shared in the guest room. Was it any wonder she couldn’t keep her feet around him?

  “I am. Thank you. Did you do all this?” she asked.

  “Gotta be honest. No. I mean, obviously, I didn’t go pick flowers and arrange them. But I called the florist. Do I still get points for that?”

  Kendalee laughed. “It’s beautiful. It’s like you read my mind.”

  He reached for her hand, and despite all her internal arguing on the way home, she let him take it. Elliott looked down at their joined hands and grinned. “Pixie, our lead singer’s fiancée, did all the candle stuff. And I called the caterer.”

  “You get points for all of it. It’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah well, like deserves like,” Elliott said quietly.

  Did he mean she was beautiful? She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the thought.

  “Please, sit. I’ll bring stuff through.”

  “Can I help with anything?” she asked, as Elliott led her by the hand to her seat.

  He pulled out the chair and waited for her to sit before helping her slide it under the table. “Nope,” he said, running a finger along the back of her neck. She shivered in response. She could see his reflection in the window facing her. Elliott closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, that solid chest of his expanding and contracting. Warmth filled her as he bent toward her and placed a hand onto each of the chair arms, sliding them forward until he was crowding over her.

  She jumped slightly when his lips brushed the skin behind her ear. Despite every intention of backing way, she found herself tilting her neck slightly to the right to allow better access. Slowly, his lips trailed down her neck, scorching her skin. Images of how they would feel making their way down her body flooded her mind. She’d never been more grateful that she was wearing her hair up. He kissed her ear and bit the lobe gently. She couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her. Or the acknowledgment that if things were different, she let him take her right here on the table.

  Elliott stood and groaned. “Told you I’d struggle to go back to square one,” he said gruffly as he turned and walked out of the room.

  * * *

  “Hey, do you have a problem if I go to see Daniel at the hospital today while you’re at work? Nik and Lennon are both free too, and I thought Daniel might get a kick out of meeting some more of the band.”

  Kendalee sat on one of the tall stools on the opposite side of the counter, eyes closed, drinking her coffee as if she were having some kind of orgasm. Which made her a woman after his own heart in two ways. One, he needed several shots of the black beast to get moving in the morning. And two, he loved the sounds women made when they were sexually excited. If this was the closest he was going to get to Kendalee having any kind of satisfaction, he was happy to be there to witness it.

  She opened one eye and looked at him. “It’s a cruel man who would deprive a woman the luxury of appreciating the first few sips of coffee in the morning by asking her questions.”

  He laughed. “Any more appreciation for it and you’d give me a hard-on.”

  With one eyebrow raised, she glared at him. “We talked about this last night,” she reminded him.

  “No,” he said, resting his elbows on the counter as he cradled his own cup in both hands. “I seem to recall you had lot to say on the subject, but if you remember, I didn’t agree to any of it, on the grounds that you moaned when my lips were on your skin.”

  “You’re determined to ruin my morning, aren’t you?” she asked, but that stern face she was trying to maintain was slipping, and he saw the makings of a smile in the twitch at the corner of her mouth.

  “Hey, you only need to say the word, and I’ll not only make your morning, I’ll make your whole fucking week.”

  The mask fell completely as she burst out laughing as he’d intended her to. “Honestly, Elliott. I have no idea what to do with you.”

  “Well, you can leave that to me, because I’ve got at least twenty ideas of what to do with you.”

  She reached across the table and slapped his forearm. “Elliott, please. You aren’t helping.”

  He didn’t miss the way she placed a hand back on his forearm and rubbed the spot where she’d smacked him. And he certainly didn’t care when she let her hand linger. It had been the same the previous evening. After he’d caved and kissed the back of that beautiful delicate neck of hers, he’d gone into the kitchen and splashed cold water on his face. If he’d stayed in her presence for just a few seconds more, he would’ve been all over her, and she would’ve been all over him. It was the most frustrating thing to know the woman had such amazing self-control when he had next to none. When he’d finally returned to the dining room carrying their appetizers, she’d started talking about her day as if the moment they’d just experienced hadn’t even happened. But then, as she relaxed, he noticed the details. She slipped her shoes off under the table, and occasionally, likely without thinking, she’d run her toe up and down his calf. And as he’d shared a funny story about how Lennon had fallen off the stage in Barcelona while showing off to a group of girls standing right at the front of the crowd, she’d intently stared at his mouth the whole time.

  Mixed messages were usually not his thing, but he was happy to get on board with what all her visual clues were telling him.

  Plus, she was wrong. He was helping. It just wasn’t the help she was hoping for. He wasn’t prepared to just fall back and let her ignore what was building between them. He was going to remain right there, front and center, to make sure she saw it. But for now, he’d teased her enough.

  “I know, but I can’t say I’m overly sorry.” He winked at her. “You sure you don’t want some food with that before you head off to work?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m good, thank you. And to answer your original question, yes, I am more than fine with you and the guys going to see him today. It’s just . . . I don’t know, he’s fed up with me, and he’s fed up with the situation with his dad, and he’s fed up with always hurting. He hates me because I lined up a hospital tutor to give him some lessons. I don’t want him to fall too far behind at school. I think you guys going to see him would take his mind off things, and give him a break from me, give him something to talk about when I see him next.”

  After dropping Kendalee off at work, he and Nikan drove to the hospital and met Lennon in the lobby, where he briefed them both about Daniel’s injuries. Carrying their acoustic guitars, they made their way to the ward, Lennon checking out the nurses the whole way.

  “You know, that whole sexy-nurse thing is such false advertising. I mean, if I’m getting a be
d bath, it better be from some hot young thing with blonde hair,” Lennon said. “I think I’d feel ripped off if I got some forty-year-old nurse in scrubs.”

  Nik laughed, which irritated Elliott. “There are some fucking hot forty-year-olds.”

  No,” Lennon said. “There aren’t. Young wins every time.”

  “Oh, come on,” Elliott said, stabbing the elevator button. “I’d take Charlize Theron in bed over Taylor Swift any day.”

  “If I ended up in bed with Taylor Swift, I’d give her a song worth writing.” Lennon elbowed him the ribs. “Why bother with somebody who is already past her prime?”

  “Seriously, Lennon?” Elliott asked as the stepped inside the elevator. “You’d turn down Jennifer Lopez, Cameron Diaz, Sofia Vergara, or Elle Macpherson just because they are over forty?”

  “Well, shit. No. If it was them or no one. But if it was a choice between them and say, Margot Robbie, or Hermione Granger, or that chick who plays Daenerys in Game of Thrones, then I’d go young every time.”

  “I’d take ’em all,” Nik said. “All at once, one at a time, two by two. All women are hot.”

  “This got something to do with this kid’s mom moving in with you guys?” Lennon said. “Fancy a little MILF action?”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Elliott said as he strode out onto the ward. “One more comment like that and I’ll break your front teeth. Again.”

  Nik laughed as Lennon ran his tongue over his teeth. “That dental surgery you got was damn good, though.”

  “Hey, Daniel,” Elliott said, stepping into the room. “I brought some friends with me who wanted to meet you.”

  The look of surprise on Daniel’s face was worth dealing with Lennon’s shit. Kendalee’s age was the only thing that made him a little nervous. He wasn’t ready to settle down. He wanted to travel. See shit. Do things. Hell, he got the impression that the age thing was an issue for her too. But the need he felt for Kendalee was growing, even though he hadn’t told her about his past and his own relationship with compulsion, abuse, and fire. If they were going to have any kind of a chance at a relationship, they needed some kind of foundation before her told her. If she kept her distance now, she might not want anything to do with him once she found out. But hopefully he could help Daniel through his issues before his own stuff became a problem.

  “Holy. Fucking. Shit,” Daniel said, his jaw slack, his eyes wide.

  Elliott cuffed him playfully across the top of his head. “Your mom told you to watch your language.”

  “What’s that line in “Preen” you sing? Oh, yeah. ‘Go fuck the deity, fuck her for levity, fuck her deep into hell’s depravity.’”

  “Yeah, well, I’m an adult, not a kid. And your mom is scary. Man, if she was my mom, I’d be terrified of swearing.”

  “If she was your mom, our elevator chat would be all kinds of fucked up,” Lennon mumbled. Nik punched him in the arm. “What the hell?”

  “Anyway,” Elliott said, raising his guitar case into the air before reaching to the side of the bed to pass Daniel his own. “We figured you might like a guitar master class this morning. And we’ve got nothing better to do than bust your ass.”

  “Seriously?” Daniel asked, using his arm to try to lift himself up in the bed.

  Elliott handed Nik his guitar and helped Daniel place a pillow behind his back properly.

  Lennon sat down on the plastic chair. “You had any lessons, kid?” He pulled his guitar out of its case.

  “Some.” Daniel stretched his fingers along the neck of his guitar, reaching for the appropriate strings and frets. Then, with his brow furrowed in concentration, he strummed a C chord. The guitar he was playing on was shit, but Elliott could fix that. Perhaps he’d ask Kendalee if the kid needed some kind of motivation with his rehab. Maybe he could promise the kid a new guitar the first day he passed some milestone.

  “Perfect,” Elliott said as both he and Nik got their guitars out of their cases. He sat on the bed Kendalee slept in when she stayed over. “Okay. What can you play?”

  Daniel grinned and played a chord, boldly, then broke into the famous intro to the Pixies’ “Here Comes Your Man.”

  Lennon whooped and broke into a backing chord to Daniel’s simple version of the tune. It would sound better grounded by Jordan’s bass, but as renditions went, it wasn’t bad. Elliott sang the lyrics.

  “Outside there’s a box car waiting.”

  As the chorus came in, Nik joined in with the harmony. Their voices always sounded good together. The two of them singing in the garden one day had given Maisey the idea to get them all cheap secondhand instruments to give them something to bond with.

  They played that way for another hour, pausing here and there to give Daniel a tip on fingering or how to strum more effectively. Over time, more kids wandered into the room, and the band ended up signing some promotional material that Lennon had thought to stuff into his guitar case. Eventually, Shannon, the occupational therapist who had asked Elliott to come visit on that first day, appeared. “Sorry to interrupt all this fun, but it’s time for Daniel’s therapy shortly. I’ve got a couple of things I need to take care of, but I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  Daniel groaned, but Elliott ruffled his hair. “You got this, buddy,” he said, as they packed up their guitars.

  “Did Mom tell you I’m starting school lessons in here this week as well?” Daniel said on a groan. “This sucks.”

  Lennon shook his head. “Nah, what would suck is if you were not getting an education while you’re in here. Now you can graduate with your class. Here,” he said, handing Daniel his guitar case, complete with a Taylor PS 16 that Elliott knew had cost nearly ten grand. “Your guitar is shit. Have mine. And practice, dude. Next time I swing by, I want to hear improvement.” He walked out of the hospital room without a backward glance or good-bye.

  Right there was why Elliott loved the asshole, even if he was a complete fucking idiot half the time.

  “I’ll wait outside, bro,” Nikan said.

  “Everything else okay, Daniel? You need anything?”

  “You know when talked last time . . . about dreams and stuff. I can’t . . . I keep thinking about . . .”

  Elliott perched on the bed next to Daniel. “What?” He braced himself for the response.

  “The smell.”

  Elliott knew that feeling. The first rush of sulphur as a match struck. The smell of accelerant. Of gasoline, or turpentine. Even smoke. Just talking about it made him want to smell it again. “The smell of a fire can be addictive. That’s something you should tell your psychologist.”

  Daniel shook his head and turned gray. “It’s not the smell of the fire.” His eyes filled with tears and he rubbed his eyes fiercely with his fists, as if frustrated by them. “It was the smell of me.” Daniel gagged and Elliott reached for the strange bowl next to his bed that looked like it was made from some kind of pulped cardboard. “I could smell my clothes, Elliott, as they burned . . . as my skin caught fire. I could smell myself burning like cooked fucking meat.”

  As Daniel threw up and Elliott’s stomach dropped, he did the only thing he could think of. He pulled Daniel to him, holding him tight and wanting so much to purge the memories that Elliott knew would scar him for a lifetime.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kendalee looked at the bathtub in her room. Candles that hadn’t been there when she’d left for the hospital that morning surrounded it, and a box of long, tapered matches sat in a tall glass jar on the counter with a tag that read LIGHT ME. A laptop sat on the counter at the end of the tub with a Post-it that read PLAY ME. She ran her fingers over the mousepad and a video appeared, paused, of Elliott grinning. On a small table was a bottle of red wine and a wine glass, in front of which was a piece of paper that read DRINK ME. As she turned to leave the bathroom, she saw a daring slip of a night dress in navy blue silk, and a matching silk robe in navy and burnt orange, hanging on the back of the door. On the tag, it read WEAR ME.

  El
liott must have organized all this, and after the conversation she’d had with Daniel’s team today, it was the last shattering blow to any pretense of not falling for him. Apparently, the time Elliott had spent with Daniel in the morning had resulted in a huge breakthrough in Daniel’s willingness to discuss what had happened the day of the fire.

  When she’d walked into the room, an exhausted Daniel had let her cuddle him as he told her about his nightmares. His psychologist said this was a huge breakthrough and something they could work with in his future sessions. When Daniel had finally fallen asleep, she’d left the hospital and splurged the few dollars on a taxi back to Elliott’s, eager to thank him, but she’d found the house empty.

  Reluctantly, she stepped out of the bathroom. There was one thing she needed to do first. Unable to bring herself to exclude Adrian fully from Daniel’s care, she punched in his number and sat down on the end of the bed.

  “Kendalee,” he said. “I was just thinking of you.”

  There was a time, especially after he’d left, when she would have given anything for him to say something like that. But now, it just made her suspicious. Nervous, even.

  “Daniel had a big breakthrough today, I thought you might want to know,” she said. She looked over to the bathroom that had been set up just for her, and she was suddenly anxious to get off the call, even though she’d instigated it.

  “He did? That’s great. What happened? Wait, I can be over at Rachel’s in less than fifteen minutes. Want to go out and get a drink? We can talk about it.”

  “No. I’m tired,” she answered honestly. “Early shift, then hospital for the rest of the day. Just got home. Rachel is staying over with him tonight.” There was no point in disabusing him of the notion that she was still living at Rachel’s. If he found out that she was in a flashy, fancy house, he might not give her what she was entitled to. “You remember how I told you that band member from Preload came to visit him?”

  “Yeah. Still sticks in my throat that Daniel will let a total stranger visit him but not his own father.”