Page 144

Story: The Anchor Holds

Who was she? The woman in the mirror?
A killer. A coward.
Elliot was still sitting on the bed when I opened the bathroom door. His elbows were propped on his knees, head in his hands.
He instantly looked at me.
I stayed in the doorway, uncertain of where to go, what to do with my face. It was awkward. Like the night after a one-night stand.
“What did you do with my clothes?” I asked him.
“I burned them.”
I didn’t reply, though my insides screeched in agony at what he’d done for me. Burning evidence of a crime. “And the bathroom? You cleaned it?”
Elliot nodded.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. There was a lot of guilt that belonged on my shoulders, but nothing was as heavy as this.
“Thank you,” I whispered, looking at the floor. “You shouldn’t have had to do that, clean up after me, but thank you.” I took a deep breath and faced him. “I won’t ask anything of you again.” I tried my best to make my voice sound strong, like the Calliope I had been before yesterday. “You can go now. I can handle myself now. All the bogeymen have been cleared from under the bed.”
“I can go?” Elliot recoiled before he pushed off the bed and stalked toward me.
My gut churned in unease, but I forced my back to stay straight, to not move an inch as he approached.
He stopped in front of me. “As much as I appreciate your commitment to your lie, you cannot handle yourself right now.”He searched my face. “Or maybe you really believe that you can. Maybe you will be able to handle yourself.” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “But I’m not going to fucking let you, Calliope. You’re not alone. I’m not leaving you.”
The weight of his words, the conviction in them did little to warm my fractured heart. I closed my eyes, sinking into his touch for a moment before I pulled back.
“I killed Jasper last night.” I tried to keep my voice even, but my words cracked.
Elliot’s face softened. With pity. Pity for me. The killer. “I know,” he said quietly.
“I stabbed him. In the neck.” I spat out the words. “I killed him, and before that, I watched another man die at my feet.” I laid the facts out plainly, without adornment.
“The man who ordered you to be raped and beaten?” Elliot asked.
I folded my arms. “What does that matter? Who he was doesn’t matter. Who I am now does. I’m a killer, Elliot. You can’t ignore that.”
Shoulders stiff, he took me in with a measured, hard gaze. “I know I can’t ignore that, Calliope. I’d never ignore that.”
I nodded. “Good. You’re not the kind of man who sleeps with a killer. Who lets a killer put his niece to bed.” I arched my brow. “The niece whose mother I’m responsible for killing.”
Elliot shook his head. “You’re not responsible for that.”
I tapped my foot. “Am I not? I brought Jasper into Jupiter. I continued sleeping with you after he knew who you were. After he put you in the hospital.”
Elliot’s gaze narrowed “What?”
“Yeah, another secret. No, another lie.” I laughed, stomping around him because I couldn’t stand so close to him without sinking to my knees. I plucked my robe from the hook on my door, tying it around me so I could try to keep my insidestogether. “Jasper set the fire. The one you almost died in.” I crossed the room to attempt to pet the cat who had been sleeping at our feet. She hissed at me.
Bitch.
“The fire that landed me with a cat that hates me.” I straightened, looking at Elliot. “I knew he set it and didn’t tell you.”
Elliot stood there, breathing heavily, processing my words. I was pushing him. Needed to push him.
I expected him to approach me, but he walked in the direction of the clothes that were neatly folded in the armchair in the corner of the room. The cat got up to rub herself against his bare ankles as he found his jeans.