Chapter 10
ELIJAH
Pain shoots from the raw cuts on the pads of my feet to my ankles. Throbbing with agony when I lock up.
I can’t move.
I can’t scream.
Help me. Help me. Please.
All my pleas burn in silence. Quashed by the unshakeable weight at my back.
God, please. The soundless scream rips raw from my throat to my head. A garble of words that die into dark blankness. My heart pounds. My body howls.
Stop.
Stop.
“Stop!” The mangled cry jolts me awake to the hazy lights of the city as I claw at the cold glass.
Everything hurts, even the sweat dripping from my scalp, running down my nape through the long strands of my hair. Everything hurts all over again as the empty retches yank at my stomach. All the bruises and the cuts burn to life. Reminding me of every unwanted touch. Every beating. Every… every…
Fuck.
Not again.
Pressing my forehead to the glass, I search out the coldest patch to ground myself. Instead, I find the exact spot where the view all the way to the concrete eleven stories below is uninterrupted.
Imagine falling.
Plummeting with no break fall till everything breaks apart. Bursts open.
I imagine how it would feel when the pieces are too gnarled to be put back together. I envision it until it’s not my imagination anymore. It’s who I am.
Too broken and too twisted to be anything to anyone. For anyone.
The alarm goes off long after I jolted awake. The grip of my nightmare is still coiled tight around me when I return from my run. Sweat chills all over my body while I pad through the bedroom to the ensuite.
It’s been almost four years since the last time I sleepwalked. And even though I know no number of showers can wash away the aftermath of my night terrors, I still hold myself under the scalding water, allowing each drop to singe over my skin. Burning away the sticky residue of my messed-up head.
The alarm goes off again, keeping me in tune with my routine as I get out of the shower and brush my teeth while I walk out into my closet to pull out my workout clothes.
“Hey!”
“Fuck!” I spit toothpaste everywhere.
Panic envelopes me, clenching every muscle in my body as Finley pokes her head out from behind one of the dark walnut doors.
“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” The words are garbled past my electric brush as I shake myself out of my stupor and pause in front of Finley.
She visibly relaxes at my remark before she greets me again with a half-cringey smile. “Morning…”
“Uhh… morning.”
She’s in one of my t-shirts with a pair of my boxer briefs peaking from beneath the hem at the middle of her thighs. When she turns to face me fully, her eyes widen, perusing down my torso to where my towel is wrapped around my hips.
Her chest caves with a gasp, and my stare naturally zones in on the movement of her body. Finley’s breasts aren’t huge, but they are full and high, and her nipples are tight, neat buds that peak below the white cotton of my t-shirt.
I know she’s changed, grown into herself, filled out in the most magnificent way. But the images that go through my mind take me back to the first time I touched her. The first time I saw her naked.
My breath hitches in my chest. Swelling into a ball that sticks in my throat. I like this memory, and I’ve gone back to it countless times when the nightmares are the worst. Like when we were teenagers, my hands squeeze tight with the need to feel her skin.
I bet it’s still as soft and warm. Maybe warmer with the way a light blush creeps up her neck to her face.
The thought stirs up the memory of her touch and how amazing it felt. How invincible it made me feel to be wanted by her. Like I was good for something. For someone. For her.
“Elijah,” Finley rasps, taking a step closer.
Her eyes snap to mine as I force myself to swallow the mix of toothpaste and saliva flooding my mouth while one of my hands clamps around the top of my towel.
I want to touch her so bad, but I can’t. That same need that Jayden said he sees in her runs through me all the time.
The craving torments me. Hammering at my walls, threatening to crumble my resolve to protect her from myself and the past.
I can’t hurt her like that.
Tracing her gaze back down my chest, Finley continues eating me up with her eyes, and I can’t help doing the same even though my head is screaming at me to look away. To pull back.
I shouldn’t be ogling her like this.
I can’t touch.
I keep telling myself all these things, and yet my feet are stuck to the ground when she stops in front of me. Dainty hands hover over my chest while her face lifts to mine.
“My word,” she hums before sucking in another breath. “Your body… My God, it’s… you’re…”
The wonder in her voice has me torn between pulling her close and pushing her away. Her pout is pressed together, and her nasally breaths are visible when her fingertips ghost over my chest.
As they graze my collarbone, I whimper at her touch. The sound is choked and needy, hanging in the air between us so heavy that I feel it push me closer to her.
“You’re—you’re so beautiful,” she murmurs, pressing her hand over my erratic heart.
All that’s going through my head are JJ’s words: Everything inside her is begging for you to touch her.
Inching closer, Finley licks her lips. They’re right there, waiting for me to throw caution to the wind and taste her. Take what’s always been mine.
Moving my hand from my towel, I grip her hip and close the space between us. As I lower to her, she rolls up onto her toes to meet me, her other hand grasps my wrist over the leather braid she put on me years ago and…
“My god, Elijah, you’re so darn pretty.”
Pretty.
I pull back, my blood chilling at the word. Bile burns up my esophagus as the word echoes in my ears. Her blue eyes pierce mine. Blue eyes that I’m too familiar with.
Such a pretty boy.
I can’t breathe. Everything inside me stiffens.
My hand clamps around her wrist, so tight that her face scrunches when I pull her hand off my chest just as the alarm goes off again in the distance.
“Shoot,” Finely sputters, her eyes glazing over with tears. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t need to apologize.
She’s not the problem. It’s not her… it’s me.
I’m the messed up one. I almost tell her that. Instead, I force a chuckle that comes out throatier than it should.
Taking a few steps back, I ask, “Why’re you hiding in my closet?”
The space between us makes it easier to think. To get my head together so I can rationalize and get my anxiety in check. As I turn away and pull some shorts and a t-shirt, I sense her stare following while I head back to the bathroom.
“I wasn’t hiding,” Finley says, sitting on my rumpled bed when I turn to look at her.
The sight of her cross-legged on my sheets gives me pause. Her light brown hair is a disarray of natural waves teased from tossing and turning in her sleep.
Sometimes when I’m wide awake at night, I can hear her walking around the apartment. I watch the light from the hallway bleed beneath my bedroom door. It doesn’t matter how much I want to go to her; I need the time away from everything to center myself and reset.
“I was looking for something else to wear. I can’t go out in your t-shirt and underwear,” she gives me a coy smile.
We were meant to go shopping last weekend, but the messages haven't stopped, and I’m afraid to take her out of the apartment.
“I thought that maybe I could go for a walk while you and Jayden do your thing?”
“I don’t know, Fin,” I tell her, backing into the bathroom and bringing the door closed enough that I can hide behind it while I dress. “There were reporters out on the street when Jayden and I came home last night.”
It’s not a lie, but it’s also not the absolute truth that will terrify her.
“Ugh…” A frustrated chuff echoes through the gap in the door. “Maybe I should dye my hair or… I don’t know, cut it.”
Even though she’s laughing, I open the door to level her with a stern stare. “No.”
“Well, they might not recognize me and—”
“Do you want to change your hair?”
Tugging on a couple tendrils, she twirls them around each of her index fingers and crosses them above her top lip into a mustache.
Her nose is scrunched into a grimace when she tells me, “Not really.”
“I like your hair like this.” The vice in my chest relaxes a tad when her face brightens at the compliment. “Why don’t we call Christina and meet her at the mall later?”
“Going to the mall with Tina doesn’t change the predicament.”
“It’s not the reporters that worry me, Fin. We don’t know what’s happening and brewing where we can’t see, and… I don’t want you out there on your own.”
“Okay.” Her lips roll together as she shifts to the edge of the bed, disappointment scrunching her brows.
I can’t have that. There’s no way I can walk out of here knowing she’s unhappy.
“D’you want to come workout with me and Jayden?”
Big eyes lock on mine as Finley lifts onto her knees. “Are you serious?”
I don’t know what perks her up the most. If it’s the prospect of leaving the apartment or seeing Jayden again. He’s stopped by a few times since the pancakes, and every time he’s here, things feel… normal.
He has a way of making her smile that I don’t. Her laughter is carefree and trills from so deep that her entire body vibrates with it.
“I can’t say you’ll love it, but it’s better than being trapped here…”
“Sold!” Leaping off the bed she starts for the bedroom door before she pauses and says, “Can I borrow something else to wear?”
Jayden’s going to badger me when he sees Finley in my clothes. It’s just as well that we’re working out, it means I can blow off some steam.
Picking out the tightest pair of compression shorts I own, I grab some socks and one of my team t-shirts.
“We’ve got to leave STAT,” I tell her, handing her the clothes. Before she runs out of my room, I take her hand in mine and lace our fingers together. “I promise I’ll fix this.”
Squeezing her hand around mine she gives me a broad grin.
I mean every word as I bring our hands up between us, focusing on the way her slender fingers dig into the back of my hand. “I’ll give you whatever you want, Finley. Anything. Always. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it.”
“I’ve only ever wanted one thing,” she murmurs, stroking her thumb over the back of my hand.
Without warning, Finley reaches up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my cheek. It’s light and brusque, but as I watch her skip out of my room, everything feels brighter.