Elah's Plaything

by Lydia Rowan

  He ignored the little stab in his gut when she trembled at his words. Some part of him still wanted to protect her, even from himself. That was a habit he’d have to break. He stood stock-still as she grabbed her purse, tried not to look when she left the keys to the house and car on the table. Tried not to care where she planned to go or how she would get there.

  And later, he tried to pretend that everything was fine, that his heart wasn’t broken.

  He failed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Night was falling fast, but Lottie didn’t care. Between the vise that squeezed her heart and the shock that hit her anew every time she envisioned Elah, his face distorted with rage and pain, she was all but numb to her surroundings. This wasn’t happening; it couldn’t be, and something in her said that if she just kept walking, she’d find her way out of this, end up back home with Elah where she belonged. And so she walked down the road, the well-manicured lawns of scrupulously maintained estates passing by in a blur. Except when a flower caught her eyes and triggered a memory of Elah describing the breed or an image of his strong hands churning the dirt. Those memories, the little prick of pain that each one caused, were the only parts of the walk that felt real. The rest was like a waking dream, simultaneously hyperreal and surreal, her surroundings both sharp and fuzzy.

  The whirl of sirens rang loud in her ears, but she ignored the noise.

  “Ma’am. Ma’am.”

  The voice sounded distant, but some part of her must have been aware because she stopped and turned toward the sound. The police cruiser rolled to a stop, and the police officer inside looked out of the passenger-side window, flashing a light in her direction. She couldn’t make out much of the officer’s face, but she stood a little straighter and tried to look less like the crazed-with-heartbreak woman that she was.

  “Are you lost?” the officer asked.

  “No,” she responded. And then, “No,” she said again, stronger this time.

  “Just out for a stroll?”

  “It’s a nice night,” she responded noncommittally and then followed with what had to be an unhinged-looking smile.

  The officer kept his light trained on her for a few moments longer before he turned the light away and started to roll up his window.

  “Stay safe tonight, ma’am,” the officer said before he pulled off.

  Safe.

  What a quaint little word. Safe had driven her into a marriage to protect her father. And safe had demanded she not tell Elah of Greg’s request. Safe had gotten her into all of these messes.

  But the officer had a point and suddenly exhaustion zapped her energy. She couldn’t very well wander around the streets all night, and the thought of walking all the way to her apartment seemed impossible. After retrieving her phone from her pocket—it was charged for once, thank God—she swiped the screen and considered who to call. Her mind screamed Elah but that wasn’t a possibility. The burning cold in his eyes and in his words were emblazoned in her mind. At no point had he looked at her with the level of venom he’d shown tonight. And worse was the pain that had lain underneath. During their time together, Elah had become so much more than the tyrant who had forced her to marry him. He’d proven himself strong and decent and true, the type of man she could love, the man she had grown to love. And even more, he’d shared the deepest parts of himself, things he’d kept locked away. Elah had never said how much of himself he was sharing with her, not in words, but he hadn’t needed to; she’d known. She’d always known.

  Her finger hovered over her father’s picture, but the thought of seeing him, being reminded of all this, was almost unbearable. She slid her finger down and pressed Isis’s picture.

  “Hey, Lottie,” her friend said after picking up on the second ring.

  “Isis—I—Can you—”

  “I’m putting my shoes on now. Where are you?”

  Lottie mumbled out the nearest cross street.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Just stay on the phone, okay?”

  Lottie nodded and then let out a little unhinged chuckle when she remembered she was on the phone and Isis couldn’t see her.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  Isis pulled up in less than ten minutes, and Lottie got into the car. She pulled off and drove a few minutes before she looked over at Lottie.

  “We’re going to my place. I assume you don’t want to talk.”

  “No, I don’t. But I need to before I explode.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I fell in love.”

  “I think this only qualifies as news to you and Mr. Avakian.”

  Lottie sighed.

  “Sorry. Go ahead.”

  “And I screwed up.”

  Isis said nothing as she parked in front of her apartment building and ushered Lottie inside. She directed Lottie to the couch, put what was probably a half-liter glass of white wine in her hand, and sat across from her.

  “Take a couple sips and then continue when you’re ready.”

  Lottie took a sip and let the alcohol calm her as it hit her system.

  After a deep breath, she started at the beginning.

  “I married Elah because he threatened to send my father to prison for what he claimed was years of corruption.”

  Charlotte looked to Isis, expecting to see shock and horror, but Isis’s slightly quirked brow was her only outward reaction, so Lottie continued.

  “Originally, he said if I married him, he’d keep the ‘evidence’ to himself, some crap about taking Daddy’s favorite possession. I was just a pawn, a tool of his vengeance. Nothing more.”

  “What a prince,” Isis said sarcastically.

  “That’s the understatement of the century. It was a pretty awful thing to do, and I was an idiot to agree.”

  “And your father shouldn’t have let you, anyway.”

  “You and my mother are in agreement on that point. But, regardless, I’m an adult and I went through with it. And it was weird and strange and he was scary, but not, you know?”

  Isis nodded. “I think I do.”

  “I mean, even when I was freaked out, I felt a connection.”

  “That’s called physical attraction, Lot, and it’s what sometimes happens when a woman meets a man that she would like to know ‘sexually,’” Isis said in a droll tone.

  Charlotte giggled despite herself and took another sip.

  “I’m familiar with the concept, Isis, but I will admit I tried to pretend it was anything but that in the beginning. Do you know he made me sleep with him the first night?”

  Isis’s eyes bugged out and tension filled her body.

  “Oh no! Not like that,” Charlotte said. “He didn’t touch me. We just physically slept in the same space.”

  “Thanks. That was a very necessary clarification,” Isis said as the tension left her body. “I wasn’t there, but I feel like he would have relented if you’d insisted.”

  “Yeah, he was mostly just toying with me, and I think I knew that then. Still, it was super-annoying and I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. But something changed. I can’t explain it, but bit by bit, my resistance fell away.”

  “So what’s the issue?”

  “There was still my father to consider. Elah hates him. A lot.”

  “Did he explain why?”

  “Yes…”

  “Don’t betray his confidence, of course, but I assume there’s something personal if he’s going to these lengths. I mean, getting married as a means of getting revenge is a big deal for him, too. He wouldn’t be that committed unless whatever it was really mattered.”

  “He has his reasons, but beyond his personal issues, he hates the idea that Daddy is respected and liked. I wanted to make him see reason, but he’s unswayable. But if Daddy had done half the things Elah says he has…I mean, it’s not possible.”

  “Stuff like what?”

  “Oh gosh, pretty much everything. Influence peddling, kickbacks, protection for illega
l businesses, extortion of legal ones… The list goes on.” Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to mention the fire.

  Isis nodded, but Charlotte could see that she was holding back, and a panicky, sinking feeling grabbed her stomach.

  “You’ve heard this before, haven’t you?”

  Isis glanced away but then met Charlotte’s gaze. “Yes, but I hear stuff all the time.”

  “Please, tell me what you know.”

  “People talk, and a couple of clients and acquaintances have mentioned that the councilman has his fingers in some unpleasant pies.”

  “All the things I said?”

  “Yeah, and some rumors about, um, girls.”

  The words were a punch in the gut, more for her mother’s sake than her own.

  “And Greg’s involved.” The words weren’t a question, only a statement of what now seemed blindingly clear.

  “Greg has supposedly been his bagman for years.”

  Charlotte let the information sink in, tried to reconcile what Isis, and Elah, had said of the man who had raised her.

  “And you never mentioned it?” she eventually said.

  “Like I said, I didn’t know anything for sure. And I know how you feel about your father, so what kind of friend would I be if I repeated what could have been idle gossip?” Isis said, her voice strained.

  “You’re right. And it gets worse,” Lottie said.

  “How so?”

  “Greg gave me some papers, asked me to help them find their way into Elah’s office.”

  Isis’s eyes widened. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “Of course not! I actually forgot about them, but Elah—he found them.”

  “Lottie…” Isis said, her voice taking a wary edge that only underscored the seriousness of the situation.

  “I know,” she said, laying her head on the sofa.

  A long moment passed, but then Isis said, “But I told you Greg was an asshole.”

  She laughed and Lottie joined her.

  “Yes, you did. How’d you get so wise?”

  “The hard way, Lot. The very hard way.”

  Charlotte looked at her friend, the scars marring the other woman’s face only enhancing her beauty, and pondered.

  Then she said, “I’m such an idiot, Isis.”

  Isis put down her own glass and grabbed Charlotte’s hand.

  “No, you’re not. What you did was naive and foolhardy, but admirable; you can’t fault yourself for that.”

  “I’ve made a mess, though.”

  “Temporarily. But you have a good heart, and you wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone. If he loves you, he’ll forgive you.”

  “And if he demands I never see my father again?”

  “Do you want to see him again?”

  The sick feeling in Charlotte’s stomach intensified when she thought of her father, but still, he was her father.

  “I can’t answer that question right now.”

  Isis curved her lips in thought. After a moment she said, “It doesn’t matter. If he loves you, you won’t have to make that choice.”

  Lottie prayed she was right.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Mr. Avakian.”

  Amanda’s voice came across the intercom speaker, tinny and small. Her replacement, and the two after him, had been total busts, so Elah had relented and asked her back. Charlotte would have been pleased by that. The thought had his stomach clenching.

  “Sir.”

  He didn’t want to respond, didn’t want to see anyone at all, and had only ended up here because the thought of being at his home for another second, Charlotte’s absence, a specter floating over every single inch of it, taunting him with the life he’d never have, had been unbearable. The cabin had been dismissed immediately. If Charlotte haunted his house, the cabin was nothing less than a cathedral to her. He doubted he’d ever go back again. Hell, he’d even considered leaving the city. Hart and his employees could handle the business, and he could start over somewhere new. He leaned back in his chair, the futility of it all hitting him yet again. It didn’t matter where he went; Charlotte lived in his heart and would until the day he died.

  “Mr. Avakian,” Amanda again called through the speaker.

  “Yes, Amanda?” he said wearily. He’d come here for peace and quiet, a place away from others, and God willing, his thoughts, but Amanda was not complying.

  “You have a visitor. Councilman Trufant is here to see you. Should I send him in?”

  Rage, instant and hot, rushed to Elah’s head, but the kernel of curiosity had been sparked as well.

  “Send him in,” Elah said, uncaring that his voice was a feral growl.

  “Very well, sir.”

  Amanda clicked off and less than a minute later he heard a knock at his office door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  He stood and straightened his jacket and tried to repair his hair and get a tight rein on his emotions. He wouldn’t let Trufant see him sweat.

  Amanda showed Trufant in and left, closing the door behind her, leaving Elah and his enemy alone. It had been so recent, that fateful day that he’d accidentally turned his life upside down, but none of the turmoil was outwardly apparent on the councilman. That first day he’d looked shaken, afraid, but he’d recovered well and that smug, arrogant posture that Elah had come to associate with him was firmly in place. Ironic, really. All of this had been an attempt to repay the councilman for his crimes, and the man looked no worse for the wear, had probably fared better than Charlotte and certainly looked to be faring better than Elah.

  “What do you want?”

  The words were low, deadly, but Trufant was not ruffled.

  “I came to talk about Lottie.”

  The name was a stab in his gut, and his flinch did not go unnoticed by the councilman, though he didn’t respond. “Did she send you?”

  “Interesting,” the councilman said.

  “I don’t have the time or patience, Trufant. What do you want?”

  “I came to try to convince you to get Lottie to talk to me, but it seems you’re in the same situation.”

  Surprise had Elah raising a brow. “You haven’t spoken to her?”

  “No. She won’t take my calls and hasn’t been to the center in a couple of days. I thought that was your doing.”

  A little flare of concern sprang in Elah’s chest and loomed larger as the moments passed. He’d assumed she’d run home to her parents and didn’t like the idea of her being out of touch.

  “Well, as you can see, I had nothing to do with it, and Charlotte is no longer my concern.”

  It was the councilman’s turn to be surprised. “So you’ve dropped this charade?”

  Elah didn’t respond, and the councilman stared at him for several long moments.

  “Things have been strained between me and Lottie since—”

  “And this surprises you? You’re such an arrogant bastard. Why wouldn’t things be strained? Charlotte’s too good a person to countenance someone like you,” Elah said.

  “But she can someone like you?” the councilman slid in smoothly, displaying some of the sprightliness that had no doubt served him well over the years.

  Elah couldn’t refute the statement and instead said, “Get the fuck out of my presence.”

  The control that he was barely holding slipped, thoughts of Charlotte, how much she loved her father, keeping him under control.

  “Fine, but let me say something first.”

  “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

  “The truth, or a part of it.”

  Again his curiosity was piqued.

  “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, to say the least, but my daughter is the most precious thing to me. I love her more than anything. Even myself, hard as it may be to believe. And I want her taken care of.”

  “And you want me to do that?”

  “From what my wife says, she loves you. And if she won’t let me take care of her, I need
to make sure someone does. And from what I’ve seen, you have the will and resources to keep her safe.”

  “How dare you ask me for help, a favor, after what you did to me, to my family?”

  “I have no idea what I may have done to you, don’t care to know, either,” the councilman said blandly.

  Elah narrowed his eyes dangerously, and the councilman held up his hands in placation.

  “No offense, but it’s the truth. I’m sure whatever it was was terrible, but I’ve lived too long and done too much for regrets.”

  “So you can destroy people’s lives, kill them, but then live your own and just wash your hands of it?” Elah asked incredulously.

  “It is what it is,” the councilman responded with a nonchalance that was more callous and hateful than anything Elah had ever experienced. It seemed impossible that this creature had had a hand in creating someone as wonderful as Charlotte.

  The councilman continued, “And I’m not getting off scot-free, especially not if my relationship with my daughter is a casualty. It’s not fair of me to ask, but I’ve never been overly concerned with fairness. I just need to know she’ll be okay.”

  “And that’s it? You’re not asking me to burn my evidence, swear I won’t turn you in? Try to get me not to take some other measure of revenge?”

  “This time has been clarifying for me. The wheels of justice turn slowly, and I’m not a young man. By the time there’s an investigation and trial, I’ll be in the winter of my life. I may spend my last days in prison, but I’ve lived a great life, better than I deserved, you’d say, so it seems a fair trade. As for other measures, I don’t doubt you have it in you under the right circumstances, but I know people and you aren’t the kind of man who could kill the father of the woman he loved. It’d eat you alive and we both know that. Still, do your worst if you must. Just take care of her.”

  For the first and likely last time, Elah completely believed what the councilman said. The emotion in his eyes was real, showed his genuine love and affection for Charlotte that was so at odds with the monster he actually was. Six months ago, it wouldn’t have moved him in the slightest, but now, having come to know her and love her, he couldn’t help but be swayed.