Page 48

Elliott

Kameron, Marcus, and Hunter have to do a briefing with their team about leads they found for the Everton case.

Men filed into the house, all dressed in what looked like combat gear.

They’re greeting Hunter and Kameron with a handshake but when it comes to Marcus, they give a sharp nod that he doesn’t reciprocate.

He just stands straight with a cold, stern expression on his face.

They must be the team that Kameron was talking about.

The ones he trained for their missions, and maybe even the company.

The last one to enter the house was Raf, the doctor I met what felt like ages ago. He closes the door and turns to follow the men, his eyes landing on me, and his face grows softer. He gives Hunter, Kam, and even Marcus a hug, before squeezing between them and coming up to me.

“Ms. Donovan, a pleasure.” He bows his head at me slightly.

“Elliott, please, it’s just Elliott.”

“Elliott, it is then. I’m glad to see you’re looking much better these days. You must have listened to the doctor's orders.”

“Yes,” I chuckle, a swirl of anxiety filling my veins as I remembered how I felt when I first got here, when the reality of what Samuel did hit me like a ton of bricks. Another wave of panic washes over me, memories of the past trauma I witnessed on Marcus’s computer. The past I didn’t remember.

The weight of Raf’s hand on my shoulder steadies my swaying stance, “Did I speak too soon?” I look up at Raf, concern filling his gaze.

“No, I’m just tired.”

“The guys treating you okay?” He nudges his head to Hunter, Kameron, and Marcus.

I look at them and smile, my eyes landing on Marcus whose brows are scrunched together as he scans me.

“Very much so.” I try to smile even bigger, and Kameron takes that as an invitation to join us now.

“Is she telling you all of our secrets, Raf?”

“Secrets? Kam, you know I know all of your secrets.” Raf elbows him.

Hunter lets a deep chuckle escape his lips, coming to Kameron’s side. The sound eases the growing ache in my chest.

“Raf’s family, he knows it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly.” He tells me.

Raf shudders, “And there are plenty of bad and ugly. ”

“Oh come on, Raf, you know the good always outweighs that.”

“Do they?” Raf squints at Kam, “I had to pull a bullet out of your ass on multiple occasions.”

My eyes widen as I snap my head in Kameron’s direction.

“Poor choice of words there, Doc. Ass cheek. You can’t leave the cheek part out.”

My hand lands on my lips to hide a smirk, the banter between them is a welcome distraction to my growing anxiety.

“Well, duty calls again, Ms. Do–Elliott. I am glad to see you’re starting to feel somewhat better.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Raf, just Raf.” He winks before heading towards Hunter’s study like everyone else.

Marcus’s gaze is still on me. He hasn’t moved from his position, “Well, that’s our cue as well. We won’t be longer than needed.” Kameron gives me a tense, awkward smile, seeing Marcus’s daggered stare as well. He kisses the top of my head and turns away.

“Please don’t rush. I’ll be fine.” I smile wider to assure Hunter, who’s still watching me attentively.

I must not be convincing because his worried expression doesn’t change.

“Are you sure?” He asks low enough to keep the question between us .

“I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.” He raises a brow to me, “I’ve got my book, the gym, food, a cozy bed, a living room to myself to watch all the TV I could want, and a fully stocked kitchen. I’ll be more than fine, I promise.” I cross my arms trying to hide my sudden surge of bravado.

Pathetic.

“If you need anything, tell us. I don’t care if it ends the whole fucking meeting.”

“Yeah, okay.” I avoid his eyes, still annoyed more at myself than him but he snatches my chin in his hold.

“Promise me.”

“Promise.” I huff out with a small eye roll.

Why do I want to cry and beg them not to leave me with my thoughts? Why am I this fucking needy?

I’m not mad at him or annoyed, but I’m taking it out on him. I’m frustrated at myself for the uneasy feeling creeping up at the idea of being alone.

“Good, I’ll address that attitude later.” He gives me a stern but playful look before dipping down to my lips, taking my breath away. I was getting used to the feeling of his kisses. So much so that I was craving the next taste, “We’ll be back.” He turns on his heels and leaves.

Marcus lingers, rooted in his spot as Hunter walks past him.

I lock eyes with his and he gives me a curious tilt to which I return with a shake of my head. He gives me one more scan before turning away and leaving me alone in the hall. The echoes of his steps fade into nothing as the door of the study closes with a thud.

Well, well, well…looks like it's just you and me.

Fuck off, I shake the taunting voice out of my head. I know what it will try to do, try to convince me to believe. I knew it would crawl its way to the forefront of my mind, but I didn’t think it would show up so soon.

It’s only what you deserve, you whore.

Shut. Up.

I walk down the hallway to Kameron’s room, grabbing the book I’ve been reading. I’m three-fourths of the way done and I have been dying to see how it will end with this couple and the way their past has been trampling all over their happiness.

I clutch it in my hands and head out of the room.

I planned to distract my thoughts with the last chapters of this book, snacks, this comfy ass couch, and some tv.

I rush to the living room, plopping on the couch and pulling the throw blanket on, snuggling into the corner spot on the L-shaped couch.

I read the first sentence of chapter 23. Then I read it again, not actually processing what I read.

Whore.

I shake my head, starting from the beginning of the sentence again. I stare intensely at each word. Hoping to whatever there was out there now, the Divine? God? I don’t know, that I could actually comprehend what these words were trying to tell me.

You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you let happen .

“I didn’t let anything happen!” My voice echoes through the room, my eyes stare blankly ahead as I take in the fact that I just yelled at the voice inside of my head out loud.

“I’m going crazy, great.” I whisper to myself, dropping the book on my lap, knowing I was getting nowhere with it.

It was only a matter of time before I lost my mind after all the shit I have gone through. I have been depressed, anxious, but the crazy…the crazy hasn’t shown up until now.

I grab the remote, hoping TV will have a stronger sense of distraction for my racing mind.

I aimlessly click through channels that I’ve never seen in my life.

We only had basic channels in Everton and were told that the outside world didn’t follow our customs or ways of life.

So, we were limited on what we could see from the real world.

We didn’t need our minds tainted , is what Mr. Donovan would tell me.

I was just happy I could watch all of my princess movies when I first got there.

I see now that they just didn’t want me to know the truth.

Did they even legally adopt me? Was the foster home a foster home?

The questions swarm my mind, my chest heaves as I try to get air into my lungs. You would think with how many breaths I’m taking that some oxygen would reach my lungs, but here I am begging for air, more air.

I jolt to my feet, eager to move and my body not waiting for my mind to relax. I hightail it to Kameron’s room, running to the bathroom and splashing cold water on my face. I rub the chilled water over my skin a couple of times before I let my eyes glance at the mirror.

I look like me. I know I’m me. But there is a part of me that feels like I look so much different than I did before.

He loves those eyes. He loves that hair. Samuel loves you.

Fuck. That.

My eyes flicker to the medicine cabinet on the wall. I fling it open, scanning the contents of it. My hands fly up, shuffling through the things, hoping to find a lighter and any form of metal. I grab Kameron's razor on one of the thin shelves and stare at it for a moment.

I could crack this open, I could pull out one of the many blades. It would be simple.

Too easy.

It would be so much easier than the burns. I wouldn’t need a lighter or anything.

Just glide it across the skin. Just push and glide.

Push. Glide.

I hold the handle of the razor in my trembling hands, taking a step away from the blade, but it doesn’t help. The blades stay clutched in my hold.

My back hits the bathroom wall and I let myself slide down against it. My ass hits the cold floor as tears sting my eyes.

Do it. Pay your sacrifice, tell the Divine you’re sorry. The only way you know how. The only way you can. Make it right again, save your damned soul.

No. no. no. no. no.

My vision grows fuzzy from the ringing in my ears, the tears welling in my eyes and my breath picks up.

With shaky fingers, I hold the head of the razor and twist it hard.

The crack of the plastic bounces off the walls sounding too loud as if to set off an alarm and the guys might come running in at any moment.

I hold my breath listening for any commotion, footsteps running down the hall, but all my ears are met with is silence.

I suck in a shallow breath battling with myself to stop, to put the razor down. But the voice in the back of my head is stronger, louder.

You already have the blades, you’re so close to completing the sacrifice.

I whimper as my hands continue of their own volition.