“Hey,” I say, deciding not to say his name just in case I get it wrong.
He looks up, piercing me with a pair of startling hazel eyes, and his smile is blinding. “How’s my mermaid this morning?”
Mermaid?
Another memory falls into place. Oh… “Not too great, actually.” I stop about a foot away from him and watch as he drops the bin bag to his ankles and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Are you okay?”
“Tired.”
“What time did you get up?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t slept yet.”
“Holy crap.” I wince and look around him into the kitchen. “Have you seen Kira?”
“Your hot friend?” I nod in reply. “She darted about fifteen minutes ago, something about a job interview.”
Oh crap, I forgot about that. “Right.” I point to my head. “Memory isn’t what it once was.”
He chuckles and picks the bag back up, throwing in another discarded cup.
“I’ll help you,” I tell him and kick off my shoes.
“No you don’t have to do that.” He smiles softly and looks me up and down. “Besides, I don’t think that dress will allow you to bend down too far.”
I step around him and snag an apron from the back of the kitchen door, wrapping it sideways around my hips and tying it tight. It serves to elongate my skirt by five inches.
“See, I’m cool. Can I get a drink real quick?”
“Sure,” he says, now laughing. “You’re insane.”
I help myself to more water than my body can store and wince at the feeling of my teeth. I can brush those later.
“I really don’t mind doing this alone; I’m used to it.”
“You were nice enough to let me and my friends stay. I’m not the kind of person that can just walk away from…” I wave my arms at the mess. “This.”
Arming myself with a bin bag of my own and a bottle of spray and a cloth, I pad back into the hall and begin helping with the clean-up. This reminds me so much of the Halloween night in my old school the year before last.
I suddenly feel really nostalgic.
As time goes by, part of me wishes I’d taken his offer to leave. I’m exhausted, my feet hurt and I’m really worried about Isaac’s thought process right now. He must be going out of his mind.
I’m still not going to leave though, not until this is done.
Luckily Jordan comes down to help not too long after we began. Three pairs of hands are better than one.
Cleaning and conversation turns into late breakfast cooked by the host, Damon, which turns into me giving him my number so we can all hang out again sometime.
I think I just made a new friend.
Isaac
I stare at the photos on the screen of my phone. I hate Facebook. I hate it with a fucking passion because it shows me everything I don’t want to know.
My girl, my Elle, clearly intoxicated, sat in a fucking hot tub in a pair of boxers and her bra. Kira and Jordan are both in there with her, but so are three other guys and one other girl. All of them are posing drunkenly for the camera.
I click the screen and the next photo lights up.
This time she’s on some guy’s back. He has a stupid tattoo on his neck and seems to be really enjoying the fact she has her legs wrapped around him. They’re both holding out these little red buckets with straws sticking out of the top.
I keep flicking through the photos, even though I’ve seen them a hundred times. My heart hammers quickly and heavily, so heavily I can feel it bruising the inside of my rib cage.
I keep telling myself that she’s doing no worse than what I did in university, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
She chose this. She chose me when she fucking married me. She should bloody act like it.
This isn’t how taken women behave. They don’t flirt with other men and let people take pictures of it. They don’t wrap their legs around other men, be it their backs or their fronts.
This is mortifying.
I’m actually embarrassed by her behaviour.
My phone lights up and my throat goes dry. I answer it without looking at the screen.
“Hello?”
“Are you coming to visit your mother today?” My dad asks and my heart falls. I should have checked. I genuinely thought it would be Eloise.
As angry as I am, I don’t know where she is, what she’s doing or what state she’s in. I’m worried about her. I need my phone line free.
“Tomorrow.” I clear my throat. “I have to go.”
“What’s the rush? Can’t an old man chat to his son for longer than thirty seconds?”
“Yes, but not now. I’ve lost Elle.”
There’s a pause. “What the bloody hell do you mean, you’ve lost Elle?”
“She’s not answering her phone.”
“Since when?” He sounds angry and a little concerned.
“Since last night.” I’m now getting irritated. “I’m waiting for her to call.”
He sighs and blows out a breath. “Well last night is hardly a long time, Isaac. She’s probably just bored of your voice.”
I know he said it in jest, but it still grates on my already upset nerves. “She was drinking quite heavily all night according to Facebook. I’m worried.”
There’s another pause before he says, “Oh.” And that’s it.
“I’ll call you later.” I hang up before he can say anything else and continue to flick through the pictures.
I messaged Kira asking where Eloise was. That was this morning. She’s seen my message but she hasn’t replied. This concerns me more than anything else. It means she knows where Eloise is and that she isn’t at home, which I already know. If she was home, Kira would tell me. The fact she isn’t responding means she’s hiding something.
It also means that she’s probably unharmed and safe, because if she wasn’t safe, Kira would definitely tell me.
I click on the profile of the person who uploaded the pictures, somebody called Liam. He has plenty more where they came from.
Chapter Fifteen
Eloise
Jordan opens the door and allows me inside first.
“Oops,” he says, taking note of the light shining over our living room and kitchen. “Must have forgotten to turn it off.”
“Sorry,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes with both hands.
I definitely shouldn’t have done that. I’ve probably smudged my leftover makeup all over my bloody face.
“I’m turning in.”
“Me too,” I say, yawning. “Although I think I might shower first.”
Jordan gives me a wave before disappearing into his room and I pad towards mine on the wall opposite.
It’s open slightly. I’m almost certain I closed it last night.
My heart flutters as I press the flat of my hand against the door and push it open. Light from the living room spills over my bed and my heart explodes with fear when it lights up the outline of a man sitting on my bed.
I’m about to cry out when I realise who it is.
It’s my husband, sat hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper and gulp, my fear twisting into horror. “You’re here.”
He looks up at me, his eyes a stormy blue and blank of any emotion. “Yep.” His brows raise and his top lip curls into a look of disgust when he takes in the state of me. “Why am I here, Elle?”
I step into the room and quietly shut it behind me. “I’m sorry, I was going to c…”
“Call? Really?” Sitting up straight, he runs his hand through his hair. “What’s your excuse as to why you didn’t?”
“I…”
“What’s your excuse as to why you didn’t come home?”
“It’s…”
“Who did you fuck?” The way he says this, the darkness to his tone that mimics the anger now flashing in his eyes, sends shivers straight through me. My mouth goes totally dry and I find myself unable to re
spond, shock seems to have frozen my body. “Was he young? Was he worth it?”
My mouth falls open. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve only been out one time… one time since you got here and already you have a name for yourself?” His voice gets louder and louder until he’s only an octave away from yelling.
“What name?” I’m genuinely perplexed.
“The mermaid. That’s what they’re all calling you on Facebook.”
What in the hell? “Facebook?”
“God damn it, Elle!” He bellows now, standing.
I press my back against the door in shock. I’ve never heard him shout so loud, especially not at me. “Isaac…”
“Oh don’t give me those fucking doe eyes.” He points a long finger at me. “Why the fuck are they calling you mermaid?”
“Bec… because of how long I can hold my breath underwater.” I blurt without thinking. I really should have chosen my words better.
His face falls and I see now the extent of the pain I’ve caused him. I’ve been stupid, seriously stupid. He’s been worried sick. I can tell he hasn’t slept. I can tell by the lines under his eyes, shadowed by dark patches, that he’s been stressed.
“That’s not what I meant,” I immediately defend as we both stand and stare at each other, his chest heaving with each breath while mine flutters frantically as I struggle to breathe under the pressure. “Nothing sexual happened in the hot tub.”
I’m seriously buggering this up.
“At all… nothing sexual happened at all! With anybody.” My voice is high pitched, mostly from panic and also because I’m seriously thirsty right now.
There’s a heavy silence between us. Neither of us seem to know what to say next.
“I…” I gulp, wishing my mind would fill with grand explanations and words that would make this whole scenario okay. “I’m sorry.”
He lets out a single bark of laughter and stares at me for another long moment before finally moving towards me.
“I’m sorry too, Elle.” His voice is quiet and calm. Too quiet and calm. It scares me more than his yelling.
“What are you…?” He reaches around me, grips the door handle and pulls it open, effectively budging me out of the way. “Isaac?”
He steps into the living area and tugs the creases from his jacket as I follow close behind him.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” he snaps, now moving towards the door.
“Don’t leave mad,” I beg, my hand gripping his wrist. He tugs free and pulls the door open. “Isaac, please. Please.”
Without a word he steps into the cold hallway and slams the door behind him.
Fuck.
“What’s going on?” Jordan blurts as he bounces into the room, ready for a fight. He calms when he sees me. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
His eyes soften and his voice becomes low and breathy. “Elle…”
“I’m fine, Jordan, I promise.” I sniff, my arms shaking as I try to fight back tears.
My life is falling apart. I don’t know what’s happening.
“Don’t cry. I never know what to do when a girl cries. You remember how badly I sucked at making you feel better the last time you cried?”
I manage to smile a little as he takes cautious steps towards me and places his arm around my shoulder. “Go have a shower and get changed. I’ll make you a coffee.”
“You’re awesome, you know that?” I turn and hug my friend.
The door opens.
I lose it as I stare into the shocked eyes of Isaac as he assesses the situation. “Fate is fucking against me, I swear!” I throw my arms up, effectively moving myself away from Jordan. And then I turn my glare at Isaac. “And I’m guessing he’s now my fuck buddy too? Did you not get the memo?” They both stare at me in shock.
“Eloise,” Isaac says, his tone one of disbelief.
“I am not in the fucking mood.” I practically shriek and shove my hands against the door, making sure it slams in Isaac’s face before tugging the chain onto the latch with trembling fingers. I pull it, getting more and more irritated by the second.
There’s a clatter when the already dodgy chain separates from its base totally and clatters to the ground.
I bang the metal part on the wall with the side of my fist, muttering curses and expletives under my breath and giving the door a kick, making my already sore foot even worse.
“Elle?” Jordan cautiously says as I stomp back to my room and slam that door too.
Isaac
I stare at the door, not sure what to make of what just happened.
I’ve never seen Eloise that… unstable before.
The door opens and Jordan looks at me apologetically. “That wasn’t what it looked like. I’m not screwing your girl.”
I nod. “I already know that.”
We both wince when we hear a bang come from Elle’s room.
“She’s pretty ticked off right now,” Jordan points out, like I hadn’t noticed.
“Yup,” I say and bite down on my lip. The pain brings me no ideas. Another bang sounds. “Should I go in there?”
Jordan shrugs, staring at her door with wide eyes. “Hell if I know, pal. If I were you, probably not.”
I do so anyway, taking a long time to reach her door. Her insane mutterings get louder the closer I get. I’m not sure what she’s saying, but the way she’s saying it scares me a little.
This is a side to her I’ve never witnessed. The only time she has ever truly raised her voice to me was after I called her dad to pick her up when she was getting drunk at a party.
This is a whole new level of Eloise.
I’m not ashamed to admit I’m a little bit frightened.
“Go out, he says. Enjoy yourself, he says.” I hear her mutter as I push open the door. I quickly shut it when one of her black, knee high boots comes flying at it. If I’d left it open a second longer I’d probably have a broken nose.
I carefully push it again and find her standing at the window, her gorgeous red hair a tangled mess on her head. Her dress has ridden up so high I can see the bottom of her gorgeous arse.
I feel a twinge in my lower region. Even hungover my Elle is stunning.
“I’m not in the mood, Isaac,” she snarls so angrily I hesitate.
Should I leave her? Would walking away right now be the right thing?
When her shoulders slump, I ignore my inner questioning and step back into the room.
I know I have every right to be angry at her behaviour, or at least I feel like I do. I feel like she should accept my telling her off without issue, yet something deep in my gut is calling me all of the names under the sun and it’s playing with my conscience.
“Eloise…”
“I said I’m not in the fucking mood,” she snaps, still staring out of the window.
“See it from my side.”
As I stare at her profile, I see her lips twitch. She’s smiling but it’s not one of happiness.
“Your side?” She asks, her hands tightening around the window frame. “Fuck you and your side. You’re not interested unless I’m doing something to piss you off.”
Ouch. “That isn’t true and you know it.”
“Oh, it’s always alright for Isaac, but never for Elle. Nope, Elle does one thing and suddenly she’s the bad guy.”
I wince. “You’re talking about yourself in the third person. It scares me a little.” I had hoped she’d smile a real smile this time, but her face doesn’t change. “Why are you mad at me?”
“Let me count…” With a flip of her knotted hair, she finally looks at me and it breaks me in half seeing the tears glistening in her eyes. “You go out where you want, when you want and you say nothing to me. You hardly ever call me back unless I’m out with friends and then you make it your business to make me feel like shit about not being stuck at home.” Her tears dry and her eyes narro
w, showing her anger once more. I try not to look away from the spark of hatred I see in the depths of her beautiful green eyes, but my guilt gets the better of me. I put that hatred there and I hate myself enough for that. “I go out and get drunk and you walk out. You don’t stay and chat or try to resolve it, you just break my fucking heart and walk away, knowing that it stresses me out. Yet when you do something to me you get defensive. But I stay.” A tear falls and she lets out a little hiccup. I reach for her but she steps back and holds her hands up in defence. “Please don’t touch me right now.”
Her words sink into my brain and I know I have been extremely unfair to her. “That still doesn’t excuse the fact that I was worried sick.”
“You were worried. I get it. I feel bad for worrying you, but that’s all I’ve felt all bloody day. It’s all I’ve thought about. It’s all I ever think about.” She wipes under her eye, which holds smudges of mascara. “My grades are dropping and I blame you!”
Double ouch. “Elle…”
“No.” She holds up her hand. “It’s too stressful. We’re too stressful. I’m not coping with any of this at all.”
I think back to our conversation at Christmas and panic overwhelms me. “You’re leaving me.” The thought sends a pain through me like no other. I can’t lose her; she’s the only thing keeping me going right now.
“No.” Her answer relieves the pain, but only by a little. “I’m not the kind of person who vows to love somebody until death do we part and then leaves them at the first signs of a struggle.”
“You’re all I think about.” I blurt. “You consume my thoughts just as much.”
She ignores me and moves over to the bed, sitting on it and grabbing a tissue from the shelf above. I wait for her to finish wiping her eyes, not knowing how to move or what to say.
“I wish I could go back to the first moments, the fuzzy moments where we started to fall in love; not to change it, but to experience it all over again.” Her head dips before resting on her hands. “It seemed so much simpler then, didn’t it?”
I nod, even though she’s not looking at me. I’m certain it was a rhetorical question anyway.
Destruction: The Distraction Trilogy #2 Page 20