by Jewel, Bella
“Ellie,” Slater’s voice gets lower. “He’s not with me.”
I shuffle a little close to the door, and try to listen, maybe I’ll hear him whispering.
“But h-h-h-how do I know?” I say, pressing my ear to the door, knife still clutched in my fingers. “This could be a trap.”
“Listen to me,” Slater’s voice gets low, but gentle. “Know you don’t remember much about me, Ellie, but know this, I’d die before I’d ever let anything happen to you. Understand me? If he tried to use my life to make me do something so he could get to you, then I’d let him have my life. Do you understand that?”
I clench my eyes shut, and take a staggering breath.
I have to trust someone, sometime.
I drop the knife, and my fingers burn from the slashes I’ve just created in them.
I don’t care.
I ignore the blood running down my palm, and get to my feet, unlocking the door.
Then I take a shaky breath and step back, watching Slater, Malakai and Maverick enter the room.
They’re alone.
I exhale and drop to my knees, hands hitting the ground and making me cry out in pain as I tear the wounds even more.
“Fuck,” Slater says, dropping to his knees and taking hold of my hands. “You’re cut up, pretty bad.”
“I...I got the knife. Like you said.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, looking up at Malakai. “Check out the rest of the bakery, and then bring the truck as close as you can to the entrance. Not riskin’ that fucker getting anywhere near her.”
Malakai nods. “Already on it, brother.”
Him and Maverick rush off, and Slater turns back to me. He lets my hands go only for a second, to pull off his shirt, and then he uses that shirt to wrap around my hands, binding them sort of together. Then, he looks me in the eye, “Do you trust that I won’t hurt you, darlin’?”
I hold his eyes, and I nod.
Because I do trust that.
He leans down and scoops me into his arms, lifting me up into them. I clench my eyes shut, because it doesn’t feel normal to me, even though I trust him. But after a few minutes of my face being buried against his chest, and smelling the comforting scent of him, I relax. I keep my eyes closed as he carries me out, and it seems like the world around me just stops, and becomes so much safer. Like nothing can penetrate the protective shield it feels like he puts around me.
“You’re comin’ back to my house. I’ll call Erin.”
I say nothing, I just let him carry me to the truck which Malakai has managed to get really close to the back door. He opens a door and Slater slides me onto the back seat. Then he gets in next to me. He buckles my seatbelt on, and then orders Malakai, “Take me back to my place, we’ll go from there.”
“Will get the other guys over, too,” Malakai says. “Need a plan, a stronger one. He got too close.”
“Yeah,” Slater murmurs. “He fuckin’ did. It won’t be happening again.”
But Slater doesn’t know...that when that monster sets his mind to it, he’ll find a way.
He’s smart.
And he’s tricky.
And there is always a loop hole.
Even in the best laid plans.
I’m not safe.
I won’t ever be safe again while there is air in his lungs.
The only way for me to be free.
Is for him to die.
~*~*~*~
THEN – SLATER
“Close your eyes.”
Ellie stares at me, hair soft and flowing around her shoulders, make up light and fuckin’ beautiful, dressed like a damned angel for our date.
“I don’t like scary surprises, Slater Knight...”
She scrunches up her pretty nose, and I laugh, leaning down and slamming my shoulder into her belly. Then I launch her up and over mine. She squeals, and laughs, and then starts slamming her little fists onto my back.
“You put me down right now, Slater Knight, I won’t have it!”
I chuckle. “You make things hard for me, woman, then I have to take matters into my own hands.”
She squeals as I carry her towards my truck and open the door, flopping her down onto the seat. I buckle her in, and then go around to the driver’s side. “Now, you can close your eyes,” I say as I get in, “Or I can make you close your eyes...”
Her mouth opens, and then closes, and she huffs before closing her eyes.
I grin.
“Ready?” I ask.
“No.”
I chuckle.
We start driving. It takes less than twenty minutes to get to the large lake on the outskirts of town. I hired a boat for a day, a fuckin’ expensive, fuckin’ nice sail boat, with lunch included. I don’t even know if she likes boats, so I’m hopin’ this doesn’t come back and bite me in the ass.
“Keep your eyes closed,” I say as I get out of the truck, and walk around to her side.
She still has her eyes closed, even if she is scowling, which only makes her look fuckin’ cuter. I lean in, and press a kiss to her nose. She startles, and then her cheeks burn red.
“W-w-w-what was that for?”
“For bein’ so fuckin’ beautiful.”
I help her out, and I don’t miss her smile and rosy cheeks as we walk down towards the boat. The man driving it, waves, but doesn’t say anything.
“I hear water,” Ellie says.
“Yeah, you’re goin’ to walk up a ramp, don’t trip.”
“Is it a boat? Are we going on a boat?”
Her voice turns into an excited squeal, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank fuck.
I lean in once we’re up the ramp and onto the deck. “Open your eyes.”
She opens her eyes and looks around, and excitement and awe fills them. “Oh, this is amazing. Slater....”
“You’re welcome. Ellie, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is my girl, Ellie.”
Her face goes red again, and fucked if it doesn’t feel good to see.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. We’ll set off now, if you’d like to sit on the seats, and enjoy the view as I take you around the lake.”
Ellie claps happily, and we take a seat on the plush, luxury deck chairs. Charlie disappears, and comes back out with a beer for me, and wine for Ellie, even though she’s technically not meant to drink, I twisted it a little so she can enjoy a glass on the deck. Though, it does give me a strong reminder than she’s only eighteen. I forget so often, because she’s so...different. So grown up. So strong. So beautiful.
“Thank you,” Ellie smiles up at Charlie.
He disappears again, and she looks to me.
“You don’t look like the romantic type, but here we are...”
I grin at her. “Looks can be deceiving. Just don’t tell anyone about it.”
She laughs. “I’ve already text Damon.”
She wiggles her brows teasingly.
I chuckle.
“Cheers,” I say, and we clink our drinks.
For the first ten minutes, we just enjoy the scenery, and the sounds of the water hitting the boat, and the birds in the trees, and everything else that comes with this fuckin’ perfect day. Then Ellie turns to me, and she says, “Tell me something about yourself, Slater Knight. Something nobody else knows.”
I glance at her, and hold her eyes.
Trust her. So fuckin’ much it’s overwhelming.
“I miss my mom every fuckin’ day, so much it hurts. Even now.”
Her face grows soft. “Yeah, yeah, I know. What was she like?”
“Fuckin’ amazing. To have and raise four boys, and my dad...she was so strong, and yet she had a soft side about her. Something so fuckin’ pure it was incredible. How she could balance both sides. She didn’t take any shit from us boys, but at the same time, she loved us so hard.”
“She sounds like an incredible woman. Was your dad...was he always the way he is now?”
I shake my head. “Nah, before she died, he was a great dad
. It’s why we still take so much from him. When she died...he broke. It was like our glue kind of dissolved and we all fell apart.”
“I’m really sorry that happened,” she says, her voice soft.
“You know, since you’ve been here, I’ve seen just a touch of what it used to be like. You make us laugh. You keep us together. Strong. We need you more than you think, Ellie, and I don’t think any of us were prepared for that.”
She blinks at me, then whispers, “Me? How?”
“You’re just there. For each and every one of us, in a different way. You come in, and you cook, you flutter around like a little fairy, bossing us around and doing things for us. It’s almost as if she sent you to us, because from the moment you arrived, you’ve never been afraid of what we are. You just came in, and that was that.”
“Why would I ever be afraid of what you are?”
“Because, we’re broken, Ellie.”
She looks at me, and then without warning gets out of her chair and climbs over onto mine, sliding onto my lap and wrapping her legs around my hips, and her arms around my neck. I’m shocked, and so fuckin’ turned on it burns. Her scent just about knocks me off my chair, and it takes everything, and I mean fuckin’ everything, not to lift her into my arms and find somewhere that I can take her, slow and deep.
Fuck.
“Broken doesn’t scare me, Slater Knight. All the best people are broken. It’s what makes them strong. It’s what makes them who they are. Without broken, they’d just simply be too...too...”
“Whole?” I grin.
She giggles. “Well, yeah, I guess that about covers it.”
My eyes search hers, looking for something, I don’t know what.
“I told myself I’d stay away from you,” I murmur. “I swore it. You’re too young and-”
“Oh shush,” she says, and then leans forward, pressing her lips to mine.
And everything else just disappears. I let her kiss me, and fuck do I kiss her back. Starts out slow, her hands move to my hair and she parts her lips just a little, letting the tips of our tongues flutter past one another every few seconds. My hands slide up her back, pressing her closer, and then I deepen the kiss, and she gasps when I do. Her little pants become breathy moans as our hands start roaming a little too far, and our mouths start getting a little to frantic.
I pull her back.
“We don’t slow that down, I won’t be able to stop, darlin’.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to.”
I press a kiss to her nose. “Slowly, remember?”
She leans back on my lap, and crosses her arms. “Are you changing the rules up on me, Slater Knight?”
I grin at her.
“Baby, you made the rules, remember?”
She laughs.
And it’s the fuckin’ best day of my life.
Hands down.
~12~
NOW – ELLIE
Slater’s house.
I know it.
The moment we step out of the car, I look up. I tip my head back and stare. It’s run down, and it’s old, but I know this house. I know it and the familiar feeling it brings me nearly brings me to my knees. It feels like home. A strong sense of warmth washes over me, and I want to run inside it and never leave.
My head turns to the left and I stare at the house next door.
I stare at it, and also, I feel such a strong sense of familiar. But not as heavy as this house. This house, this house is home. I know it, and I feel it so strongly that I stop walking, and I just stare, and stare, and try to make my brain work with me. I want it to open up, to just let me remember. Not just this, but everything. No more scattered memories.
I can tell you a few things about my life with my parents, I remember when they died. But every part after that is hazy. I only have maybe a handful of clear memories, the rest are kind of...distorted. Like I can see them, only they’re really fuzzy, so I don’t know what exactly they’re about. I dream a lot, though it’s never me in the dreams, they seem familiar somehow. Like my brain is trying to show me, and I don’t want to let it.
And of course, I remember the horrid years I spent with him.
I wish my brain would let me forget those.
Though the beginning of my time there, is a foggy mess.
I remember seeing Charlie, and being scared and confused, and trapped in a basement.
And then that’s it. Drugs, and abuse, and hell filled my life for so many years after that, I don’t recall where I was, or what I was doing, just flashes of horror.
Only in the last five or six years with him, did I start to regain some of my mind back.
And that’s only because he laid off the drugs, and I started to get a better idea of what was doing on, but it was already too late for the rest of the memories. Those were already locked away in my mind, in a safe place, refusing to come back out.
“Y-y-y-you...you lived here...didn’t you?” I whisper when Slater stops beside me.
He tips his head back, and looks up at the house, almost as if seeing it for the first time himself.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “And you lived next door,” he points to the other house. “With Bob and Marlene Robertson. They died two years ago.”
Bob and Marlene.
Frustration bubbles in my chest that an instant image of them doesn’t just pop up like I need it to.
Anger grips me.
“I can’t remember anything, and yet it seems so familiar to me. Like my body knows what my mind doesn’t.”
Slater looks down at me, just as the other trucks and bikes pull in. They’re all here to talk about what happened.
“Let’s get your hand cleaned up. I’ll call Erin again.”
I nod, and we walk into the huge but run down old house. I step through the front doors, and that feeling of home only gets stronger. My eyes move around the huge living area, and settle on a large bookshelf, full of old frames. Photos. I walk over, without hesitation, and stop, staring.
And my eyes burn.
They burn.
Because there are so many photos with me in them.
Me with what is very clearly all the guys when they were younger. Me on Damon’s shoulders, Finn and I dressed up for Halloween laughing with a beer in our hand, no doubt a beer we shouldn’t have, Lincoln and I at a football game and I’m giving a big thumbs up, and then Slater and I. So many photos of Slater and I. Laughing, kissing, on a boat, in a cabin, hiking...we look so...so...happy. And so incredibly in love.
I can see it so clearly.
Even in my own eyes.
And my chest aches. It burns.
I forget everything else that’s happening around me, and just stare at the pictures.
“Good photos, huh?”
I turn my head and see Damon standing and staring at the photos. Slater must have called his brothers, too. He’s grown now, no longer the young, care free guy he is in these pictures. He’s a man now, and yet I can still almost feel a certain level of playfulness coming from Damon. He’s not as hard as the other three. I like that about him.
“Yeah,” I say softly. I’m still clutching Slater’s shirt over my sliced hand. “I wish...I just wish I remember them. I look, and I feel such a strong sense of familiarity, but I just can’t get the memories to surface.”
“You know,” Damon says, turning towards me a little. “Maybe they’re not going to. Maybe you’re putting so much pressure on your mind to remember, that you’re not listening to your body. Your heart, Ellie, is the best part about you. If you stop fighting what you know, and what you don’t know, and just let your heart and body guide you, you might just find it’ll lead you to what feels right, and the rest will fall in place.”
I blink up at him.
Because, maybe...just maybe, he’s right.
My body and my head always feel two different things.
Sometimes my body warms with comfort and warmth when I’m around these guys, but I fight it, I fight it because...w
ell...because I don’t trust myself.
“I’m not sure I trust my body anymore...how will I know it’s telling me the right thing?”
Damon looks down at me, and oh my, he’s so incredibly handsome. “Because your body won’t lie to you, Ellie. If you trust it. When you saw this house, what did you feel?”
“Home,” I say immediately.
He smiles down at me, “Exactly. And I’ll tell you something for nothing, this is your home. Your body knew that. Your mind knew that. Your heart knew that. You are the one fighting against yourself. Listen more, think less...”
Slater appears in my line of vision, with a first aid kit in his hands. “Time to clean up.”
His eyes scan over the photos, and then meet mine. And I just stare at him, and try to forget my mind, and just listen to my body. My body, oh, my body says run to him, curl yourself into his arms, and never let go.
And that scares me.
Because...Damon might be right. My body just might have the answers my mind is refusing to give me.
And that’s terrifying.
“Okay,” I say, shaking the thoughts from my mind, and walking over to where Slater is now sitting.
We’re also joined by Lincoln, Finn, Malakai and Maverick.
A group effort, I see.
I give them all a weak smile and my cheeks flush, as I sit down beside Slater.
“Give me your hand,” Slater says, moving closer, so close his big body presses against mine when I give him my hand. My breath hitches, and I pray he didn’t notice.
Sitting this close to him makes me almost...giddy.
And nervous.
Like a teenage girl.
I swallow. My body is telling me far more than I think I’m ready to hear.
Slater starts cleaning my hand, and I grit my teeth to stop from wincing. I’ve dealt with worse, far worse. But I still hate pain. Pain reminds me of the life I lived, and I don’t like living in that nightmare any longer than I already do.
“Okay, Ellie,” Malakai says. “Know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but we need to know as much as you’re willin’ to share. That bastard got a little too close tonight, and we can’t risk it happening again. That okay with you, sweetheart?”