She scowls, "Screw that."
He puts the car in drive, inching along in the snow. It might take longer than a day or two.
He looks at us in the rearview, "I think I'll be bringing the SUV from now on. I just didn’t want to change it up before I told you."
I smirk, "It's cool. Probably better in the snow." He's still treating me with kid gloves.
His eyes dart at Shell in the mirror, "Welcome home."
She gives him the cold shoulder. True Italian woman. And she's only half.
He drives us to a building in the heart of downtown. We could have walked. He pulls up and hops out. I feel silly having him open the door. I look at him, "After the cell this feels strange."
He nods, "I know. I need this job though, Sarah."
"I won't say anything."
He blushes, "Thanks." His eyes dart to Shell.
I wink at him and look back at her, "Just wait here till I see what he wants."
She scoffs and scoots along the seat towards me, "Yeah right."
I put a hand out, "Dude. I want to be strong on my own. I swear, Stuart isn’t going to let anything happen to me."
She looks homicidal for a second and then nods climbing back in, "I expect a text every minute."
"Done." I turn and run for the building. I know I won't be texting her. She'll be busy. He's got some groveling to do.
I run to where a man opens the door under the awning to the fancy building.
"Good evening."
I duck my head. The entrance is stunning. I stop and stare. It's incredible. The man at the front desk looks like a bellhop. I frown at him when he asks, "May I help you?" I look confusedly at the room and walk to him. My bare legs are freezing. It looks like a hotel, but I don’t think it is.
I blow on my hands and speak softly, "Hi. I'm a guest of Eli Adams."
He lifts the phone and speaks softly. "Go on up. Tenth floor."
"Which room?"
He smiles at me like I've told him a lame joke, "The entire floor." He rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever he was doing. I frown and sigh. I hate the building already. I cross the shiny floor and press the elevator button.
The doors open but I'm not prepared for him to be there. I flinch seeing him.
He smiles. It’s the same fake smile he gave me at the doctor's office. "Sarah."
My air is sucked out of my lungs. I feel like I'm drowning for a second. I calm myself and smile back. "Hi." He steps back, "Come in."
I hesitate but force myself inside. This is the test. It's the practice run for any other guy. For Sebastian. I remind myself I wanted to see Eli.
"How are you?" He asks.
I frown and look at the stainless steel wall. "Since I saw you a few hours ago?"
"Right. Of course."
I look up at him, "I'm fine. Really."
His eyes look tense.
"Are you waiting for me to fall apart?"
He watches my face and nods.
"It won't happen. It's different for me than you. I was already pulled apart. The memories suck, but inside I already knew they were there. Your eyes and her face have haunted me for the entire fourteen years."
He doesn’t look convinced. I can't help but stare at his lips. His look of confusion makes one side of his upper lip lift. I want to kiss it and suck it.
I'm breathing out of my mouth and thinking things I have only seen on Netflix in the foreign-movie section. I snap out of it as the elevator dings to his floor. He holds a hand out. I smile and take it. I step off and notice how open and incredible it is. The lights of the city are unbelievable from his windows. His hand squeezes mine.
We walk in silence to the far side of the room, where one entire wall is made of windows. The place feels cold and lonely. Lights in the kitchen dimly light it.
"I didn’t grow up like you. I didn’t have a mom and a dad and Dr. Bradley to help me. I had to get tough on my own."
He leans against the window and watches me, "It just feels like you're not dealing with it. It took me months to get to where you are. Years even. I'm scared you're walling up again."
I unzip my coat and pull it off. He looks down on me like he's battling with something. I sit on the long leather couch and cross my legs. I look down on the glass coffee table and huge fluffy white rug and laugh, "Your life was filled with shit like this." I tap my Ugg against the glass, "Fancy things. Like therapy."
I turn and look at him, "I had people. They didn’t feel sorry for me. I was just another orphan. The people in my town felt sad for me and treated me with tons of kindness and pity because they all assumed I was abused and brutalized. What kind of kid is wandering the streets at six-years old? A kid who doesn’t have loving parents. It was no mystery that I was tortured or beaten or molested. But the nuns and priests taught me that nothing was easy or free and hard work was what everyone did to get by. No matter their lot. They taught me that bad shit happens to everyone and no one in the world is exempt from horror and pain."
He avoids my eyes still, "But they didn’t know what you went through."
I shake my head. I feel sick thinking about it. I push it down and smile, "No. But there was a girl who was taken from her parents. Her mom was her sister. She lived in that house till she was ten. Her name was Beth. She's the same age as me. She's becoming one of the sisters. She shakes if you raise your voice around her and pee's the bed at night, still. God knows what happened to her."
I stand up and grab my coat, "I get that what happened to you was bad. It was and there is no denying it or taking that from you. But there are always people who have it worse. You were right. Your advice was right. I can't rot in that old dirty house. I will never be okay with what happened. I can't say the words or think about the things that happened, without wishing it was me that didn’t make it out. But I did. And maybe my hard life in an orphanage, where I was taught not to feel sorry for myself, was the easier environment to heal. You need to listen the next time Dr. Bradley tells you to be grateful. I'm slowly getting there. I'm grateful to you for everything you have done for me."
I walk to the elevator and hate myself for wishing the Eli with the paddle was the one there.
He jogs to where I am and grabs my hand, "Wait." He spins me to face him. He moves his mouth like he wants to say something. Instead, he brushes his hand along my face, tracing my jaw line.
His eyes burn, "You're so much stronger than I am."
My skin shivers. "I had to be."
He lowers his face and brushes his lips against mine. The kiss is like a teaser but he won't give me more. I let him tease me for a minute and then I reach up and pull his face down on mine. I grip to him for dear life.
Like I've hit the on switch, he shoves me back into the door of the elevator. His hands are on either side of me, pinning me into the wall.
He stops and bites his lip. His breath is in my face. He licks his lips and shakes his head, "You're right. I'm not like you. I can't be grateful like you are. I can't get past the fact I never saved her." He pushes the elevator button next to my arm.
"You saved me." My inhalation is heavy, but not for the usual reasons.
He lowers again, kissing me with meaning and desperation.
He runs his hand up my dress, tracing a line up my bare thigh. His fingers brush up and onto the back of my leg. His fingers slip into my panties, gripping my ass cheek. He squeezes, making a gasp leave my lips. He kisses harder. I'm moaning into his mouth.
He stops kissing, but his lips stay touching mine, lightly like a feather would. "I'm bad for you, Sarah. I won't ever be the gentleman you need."
"Maybe I don’t want gentle."
He pulls something from his dress pants and presses it into my hand. "And that is my fault."
The elevator opens. He lifts me into his arms, shoving his tongue into my mouth, sucking mine. He moans with me. I feel him taking steps. He places me down gently inside of the elevator and steps back.
His blue eyes are almost black in the dim light. A slight grin crosses his lips, "Forgive me." He wipes his mouth and steps back. The doors close on him.
The image of him standing in the elevator doors, in his silver dress shirt and dark-grey dress pants wiping me off his lips, is the sexiest and most devastating thing I've ever seen.
I feel like I'm having a heart attack. My hand is shaking. I lift it to my face to see what the crumpled piece of paper is.
I drop my coat and smooth the paper. The elevator stops and the doors open, but I stand and look at the names on it.
Sebastian Hollinger and an address.
I look up to see the front desk guy leaning across the desk, looking at me.
Eli kissed me like that and then handed me a piece of paper with the name of another man on it? A man I didn’t need help finding.
My lips curl into a sneer as I push the ten again.
My eyes narrow.
Heat is pouring off my hands.
When the elevator door dings, I walk out into the apartment. He's standing in the dark, leaned against the window and looking down on where my car is parked.
"Leave." His voice is edgy and dangerous. He sounds the way he did on the phone, when I just knew him as a benefactor and not a person.
I crumple the piece of paper and throw it at him, "I have his cell number. I don’t need this. You know I do. You answered him when he sent me messages."
It bounces off the windows and lands on the dark hardwood floors. I walk towards him when he ignores me. I shove his back. He flexes and braces for the impact. He spins and points at me, "He's the right guy for you, Sarah. You don’t want to start this fight." He's angry.
"You want me to be pissed at myself like you are? You want me to take years to talk about my feelings and slowly crawl out of that fucking hole?" I point at him, "When you pulled that trigger at eleven, you were twice the man you are now."
