by J. M. Davies
“And what might that be?”
“Look, Ella, this may be too soon, but I want you to know when you’re ready to return to work, I would be more than happy to see you. It will help to have a focus. Marcus might not agree…”
Her boss paused mid-flow as Marcus interrupted him. Ella caught sight of his frosty glare, which made her hand tremble. She needed air.
“Marcus might not agree about what? Don’t stop on my account.” Marcus ran his hand through his wet hair to brush it back. All the time, he pinned his heated gaze on Ella as she knocked back her third glass of alcohol. The room swirled a little but the warm feeling grew, making her bold.
“I said Ella returning to work would help more than staying at home,” Ben answered.
Marcus reached for the bottle and poured himself a glass and one for Ben. His eyes never left her face as she slid her glass toward him.
“I think you’ve had enough, Ella. As for returning to work, I think I know my wife better than you, Steel. You’re incredible, do you know that? Were you there at the grave? We just buried our daughter.”
“I wasn’t suggesting I know Ella better than you, Drayton. For Christ’s sake.”
“No, well, it sure sounded like it. If I need advice, I’ll ask for it. Going back to work is the last thing she needs right now.” Marcus wiped his mouth with his hand as he spat the words out. Their voices grew louder, and heads turned in their direction. Ella stepped away from them and closer to the bottle of whiskey. At this point, she was pretty sure she was invisible as they continued to argue over her.
“I merely thought that Ella needed to be active and have a focus,” Ben said.
Marcus got right in Ben’s face and grabbed his shirt. “Back off. Since when have you been the expert on what women need? Your knowledge didn’t exactly help with Marianne, did it? That was a right fuck-up.”
Ella stared at the two ferocious beasts, sure that a fight would break out. She couldn’t bear it anymore. Marcus was spewing with anger, and he was going to argue with Steel until he punched him. The banter went back and forth. No one cared what she thought.
She grabbed the whiskey bottle and charged off, leaving the guests milling around in her living room, to head upstairs for the privacy of her bedroom. She reached the small landing and stared at a large picture of her and Marcus from their wedding day. It felt like eons ago. She stared at the room that was Kate’s nursery and heard soft voices from inside. No one should be in there. She pushed the door wide open. She hadn’t been inside the nursery since she had been abducted. Now, she took in the creamy yellow and light-green walls with pastel-colored balloons painted around. It was beautiful. In the center stood Jake and Isabella. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Nooooo!” she screamed. The bottle she carried dropped and smashed on the wooden floorboards. She ignored the mess and charged over to Jake and Isabella, who were packing away toys and baby clothes. She grabbed the items from their hands and walked away from them. Most of the furniture had already been removed, leaving the room bare.
“How could you? Get out,” she shouted.
Isabella rushed to her side and tried to reach out by putting her arm around her.
“Get out.” The room stilled, aside from the pounding of heavy footsteps coming from the stairs. Marcus appeared through the doorway and stared at the scene. Ella held the teddy bear against her chest that Jake had been about to stuff into the black bag and turned away. Tears sprang in her eyes.
“Get out.”
Several footsteps sounded behind her and she sighed, believing herself alone.
“It’s not their fault, Ella. I asked them to clear the room,” Marcus said.
Ella sniffed the bear and hugged it close to her chest. She stared out the window with her back to Marcus. “Why? Soon it will be like she never existed.”
“I thought it would help you move forward.” His voice was cold and emotionless.
“You keep saying that—move forward. I can’t just move on—can you? I can’t breathe. I have to leave this place. I feel as if I’m going mad.”
His thudded bootsteps echoed behind her. She didn’t turn but knew Marcus stood a short distance away. He didn’t reach for her.
“Where will you go?”
His calm voice revealed he wouldn’t stop her, and she sighed. He would let her go. Her heart ached. She was confused and muddled, but she needed to make the break even though right now a need for him to hold her burst in her chest. She pressed her lips closed to quell the cry that threatened to tumble.
“I don’t know.”
His hand gripped her shoulder and pushed her around until they faced each other.
“Stay with Josephine. At least, until you know what you want to do. She’s sick—and I have to leave tomorrow.”
Even in her mood, Ella was struck by how his damp white shirt clung to his well-defined muscles. He was a warrior. She wanted him to make her feel alive again. It was the first time she really needed the connection but she couldn’t tell him. Ella frowned and questioned how he could leave now, this soon. Appraising his mouth that pressed tight in a firm line, she knew there was more he wanted to say, but didn’t.
“What’s wrong with Josephine?”
Marcus leaned his arm against the wall and stared above her, out at the ocean. “I don’t know. She’s been getting dizzy spells and fainting. The doctor said she needs a CT scan and blood tests to find out. Look, I don’t want to leave, especially not now, but there’s a lead on the professor. Ben has sanctioned us to follow it up wherever it may lead. I have to go.”
Neither moved toward the other. He searched her face and frowned as if in pain.
She closed her eyes and nodded. Josephine needed her. His hand caressed her cheek and he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. Automatically, she leaned into it. Opening her eyes, she peered at his rich, coffee-bean eyes that held her there a moment, spellbound. He gripped her waist and pulled her against his solid chest to hold her tight. Feeling protected in his arms, she sank into his embrace and nestled against his shirt, savoring his rich, spicy scent. The tears she held fell. She couldn’t stop the sobs as she pulled at the buttons of his shirt, needing to be closer.
“Let it out. You don’t need to bottle your feelings inside. I’m here for you, Ella.” He stroked her back.
Ella needed to hear that he loved her, that he forgave her, but those words were absent. She allowed herself this break in her armor, because she needed to be strong for what came next. Moments passed and all she heard was the steady beat of his heart and the patter of rain against the glass window. Feeling more in control now, she pushed him away, and he released her. Standing back, she folded her arms to shield herself from the sudden loss of him. She needed to get used to being alone. The soft teddy bear fell to the floor, and she stared at it.
“Of course, I’ll stay with Josephine—until you get back.”
CHAPTER FIVE
He was packed, ready to leave with Jake and Isabella. His scouts and the rest of his team were already in position in Boston. As fury swarmed through his blood, he questioned whether he should go at all. Part of him knew he should fix what was broken between him and Ella, but he wasn’t sure he could. A part of him battled as to whether he should; perhaps it would be easier to let her go. Maybe giving her space would help.
Hell, he didn’t know.
He groaned, lost. He thought this mated bond shit was meant to be forever. It was supposed to mean Ella would always need and love him. Yet these days, she barely looked at him, and yesterday, only allowed him to hold her for a moment while she cried before she shoved him away. Most of the time, she was as cold as an iceberg and as distant as the sun to him. To be honest, it was the same for him. He knew he would burn in hell for his dark thoughts, but he couldn’t help them. She was right; he blamed her. Hell. He rubbed his face with both his hands, as if to wake him up and see sense.
“Are you sure, boss, leaving Ella here is the best thing to do r
ight now?” Jake stood next to Marcus.
In a flash, Marcus pivoted around and grabbed Jake by the throat, squeezing his hand tight as he threw him against the vehicle. Jake glared at him, but didn’t retaliate in any way. He let Marcus slam into him. After a moment or two, Marcus eased his grip on Jake’s airway and stood back. Jake spluttered and coughed, heaving in air.
“Shit—shit.” Marcus twisted around and blew out his breath, his back to Jake. He placed his hands on his head as if to stop himself from killing his friend. He darted around to face him. So help him, if anyone else told him what they thought was best for Ella, he would be guilty of murder.
Jake stood there, his face a tight mask.
“Don’t ever push that button again, Jake, do you hear me? Ella’s out of bounds. I will not talk about my wife with you. Now, get your crap and find Isabella because we’re leaving.”
Jake stepped right in front of Marcus. They stood nose-to-nose like steaming angry bulls. “We’re not leaving until this is sorted. We don’t go out on a mission unless we’re focused—it’s suicide. Besides, Ella is my friend. I’m worried about her…”
He admired Jake for having the balls to stand his ground as he recited words he used on his men, but enough was enough. Could this day get any worse? Marcus reacted and punched Jake straight in the nose, knocking him back. But he quickly rebounded and a wrestling match ensued. Arms swung high and low. Grunts rent out and spittle dropped to the ground as the two collided. Marcus threw his fist into Jake’s gut, which made him stumble, but he managed to regain his balance.
Righting himself, Jake paused to wipe his bloody nose but he kept talking. “Ella blames me too, just like you. Go on—take another punch. Don’t you think I deserve it for not—”
Marcus dove at him full force, delivering a direct blow to Jake’s stomach. It took the wind out of him and sent him crashing to the ground. They tumbled in the dirt but only Marcus continued to punch and hit. Jake groaned in the dry earth and grass. Marcus cursed out loud as he realized the fight was one-sided, and shoved his friend away.
“Why won’t you fight back, damn it?” he said, lying on the hard ground. Marcus pushed up until he sat up, staring at the mess. His clothes were filthy and he brushed down his jeans to remove some of the mud and debris.
Jake sat there with his head bent, bleeding over his torn shirt and making no attempt to right himself at all. “Because as angry as you are, I can’t.”
Marcus stood in front of Jake and extended his hand. Jake sat there with his legs sprawled in front of him. He studied Marcus’s face and grabbed his hand to stand up too. Marcus held Jake’s chin and twisted it right and left. There were several years between them in age—Jake was younger—but sometimes he displayed more sense than Marcus. Sometimes. What the hell was he doing? They needed to leave and if Jake ended up injured, he would be useless to him.
“Doesn’t look broken to me—you’re lucky. Change your shirt. You look like shit,” Marcus huffed.
“I’m sorry—I let you down, man. I should never have let that woman of yours talk me into taking her shopping. I knew the minute we arrived something was off, but that sadistic fuck had it all set up. I don’t know what hit me but I was gone. How the hell they managed to get me out of the market, I don’t know. When I woke up, I was lying next to the garbage cans out back, seeing double. But what I don’t get is how. It’s giving me sleepless nights, Drayton. We didn’t have a pattern—hell, she hadn’t been off the compound. Yet they were there waiting?”
Shit. It had been eating away at Marcus too. He’d wondered whether there was a leak, a mole in the team, and had spoken with Steel about this, but another thought crept into his mind. Damn it. He had been so bloody preoccupied with stupid details—the funeral, Ella, his mother—that examining how this twisted situation had occurred in the first place slipped way too far down the list of priorities. A sudden memory from that morning weeks ago, when he had last made love to Ella, burst into his mind. She complained of a sore neck. She was scratching it. Shit. He slapped Jake’s shoulder and pushed him away.
“You’re the lead on this one, Jake. Go and get Isabella—take your Jeep. I have to go and see Ella. Go and find out what the bastard has to say, get his statement. Make sure you get every detail the doctor remembers, but I want to see him, Jake. Alive. Understood? Twenty-four hours. Don’t fuck this up.”
Jake lifted his shirt to wipe his mouth before stripping it off and studied Marcus. “Sure. Are we done? Are we cool?”
Marcus pressed his eyes closed. He knew Jake needed his forgiveness and the truth was there was a moment he wanted to kill him, but that moment had long passed. There was no one he trusted Ella’s safety to besides Steel. He knew Jake would have done everything possible to keep her out of harm’s way. All the fury was aimed at the professor and the Elusti. He gave a quick nod and met Jake’s gaze.
“There’s nothing to forgive. Now get the information we need.”
“What about Ella? Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”
He couldn’t give him an answer. Ella wasn’t anything like her old self. One minute, she was vacant, an empty shell; the next, she raged at him. For a moment last night, when she sank into his arms, there was a glimpse of the old Ella, but it vanished moments later when she told him she wanted to leave. In that moment, he knew she would walk away from him for good. In a way, it stunned him, but he also wondered whether it would be for the best. He wasn’t sure he could forgive her for disobeying his one request to stay on the compound. The blame he held against her lay bottled away inside him, gnawing at him like maggots festering on rotten flesh. Why did she always fight him? When she discovered she was pregnant, she’d been reluctant to accept it. He understood her concerns after the professor had injected her with an unknown substance, but when the tests revealed the baby was developing normally, he thought she had changed her mind. Now, he wasn’t sure.
“Honestly, I don’t know, Jake. Ella’s a mystery to me at times. Only time will tell what one can forgive.”
****
The waves stretched out toward the shore, eating away at the golden sand, but it rolled back quickly, as if burnt, taking the shells with it. Ella carried her flip-flops and walked barefoot along the deserted beach. Josephine strolled at her side, also shoeless. Her small cottage was a blip on the horizon. The clouds dispersed and a hazy sun hung in the pale-blue sky as they strolled undisturbed in the shallow cold water.
“Are you in any pain?” Ella asked.
Josephine grabbed Ella’s hand and squeezed it but carried on walking. “There are many types of pain, Ella, aren’t there? But no, physically, I am not in pain. It’s not me everyone should be worried about anyway. I’m old. Ella, I know you don’t want to hear this now, but not everything that has happened is as it seems. You have to trust me on this. My dreams are filled with you and a child…”
Ella broke away. Josephine was a gifted seer, but she couldn’t listen to her while she rambled on and predicted a rosy future for Marcus and her with another child. That wasn’t going to happen. She let Josephine talk but she didn’t listen. Instead, she focused on the waves as they crashed over the rugged coastline, spitting white foam out like lava. She loved the sea. The color of the ocean was a dark teal, refreshing and vibrant. Josephine’s voice carried over the roar of the water and Ella forced herself to study the elderly lady’s warm face to assess her aura. The once brilliant white shadow continued to look gray, making it dull. Josephine was very sick. The old lady slipped her arm through Ella’s and clung to it. Her sharp chestnut eyes quizzed hers. She had missed this closeness.
“Don’t give up on him, Ella. Marcus stores his emotions deep like most men, but he isn’t most men. You know that. He needs you and you need him. You have to help him to let go of the rein that he has held in so tight because of me. It’s not his fault—it’s mine—but he will need you and soon, more than he will ever know.”
Ella studied Josephine’s soft but heavily lined fac
e and sucked on the corner of her mouth. Josephine didn’t want to talk about herself; she was only concerned about Marcus and their future. Choosing to let it go for now, she spoke her mind about Marcus.
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. We’re on different pages. I—I hold myself responsible. I don’t think I was meant to be a mother. I have never had that maternal instinct that everyone raves about. I never pictured myself with a baby. Even though Marcus did his best to reassure me the last four months, I always believed disaster was waiting. I always thought the baby would be a boy, and after burying Kate, well—see, I’m crazy…”
Her voice broke and before she could break away, arms wrapped around her back and pulled her flush against Josephine’s bony frame. Even though the old woman held little meat on her body, heat radiated from her through Ella and her reserve cracked. She held the woman tight and hugged her back, resting her head upon her chest and crying openly. Her body shook. After the other day with Marcus, the tears fell unchecked at odd moments and she had no control over them. When her parents passed, she hadn’t cried. It was shock and she was told that grieving was a process and different for everyone. The tears never came; she simply felt alone and abandoned. She wasn’t even angry that they had died and left her. Now, her mind lay scattered, going all over the place, feeling lost and empty. Ben was right; if she didn’t have a focus soon, this grief would devour her. There were too many demons to battle.
“Josephine, I know you’re sick. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” She shifted the attention to Josephine; she needed to know, to see whether there was something she could do to help. They broke apart a little, but Josephine steered Ella around to face the calm water.
“You can’t outrun destiny; it’s in the darkness—waiting. Come on, we should head back. Someone is eager to see you.”
Josephine often talked in riddles. Her words stirred her, but she didn’t push her for more. The CT scan was booked for tomorrow. She would ask the doctors. They retraced their footsteps in the silky sand.