Chapter 9 Elodie
NINE
ELODIE
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I slam the truck door shut in a flurry, my father’s cursing no longer audible as Walker peels down the gravel road without a backward glance. With my hand plastered against my chest, I attempt to catch my breath as a soft chuckle parts my lips.
I’m playing with fire. I shouldn’t rile my father up. I know what comes of it, but it feels embedded in my veins to keep fighting, no matter the cost. One of these days, I’m going to wind up dead, likely at his hands, but I survived today, and that’s all that matters.
“Your dad looked pissed,” Walker states as he tears off the gravel lane and onto the main road, my spine finally easing at the distance I feel from my father.
“When isn’t he?” I say with a sigh, casting my gaze in his direction to find a smirk curling his lips.
I smile back, letting the tension ease from my limbs as I turn my attention to my window, watching as the world flies by.
Seconds stretch into minutes, which meld into an eternity as he navigates the highway before turning off at the next town over.
My eyebrows pinch together in confusion, wondering where on Earth he’s going, when I remember why I called him panicked instead of just waiting for him to arrive like usual.
“I’m sorry. I know you were busy tonight,” I mutter, guilt gnawing at me, but he waves me off.
“It’s good.” The sincerity is there in his voice, but he keeps his gaze dead ahead.
He had plans, plans that I trashed because I can’t help but create chaos. Plans that he quickly ignored the moment I needed him.
“It’s not. I’m—”
“Do you want a distraction?” he interjects, his eyes cutting to mine, and I pause a moment to take him in. His worn jacket strains against his outstretched arm, fingers curled around the steering wheel. His white tee frames his neck in a way that should not be attractive.
I shake my head, yanking myself from my thoughts. I’ve tried once; the rejection stung enough for me not to be stupid again.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, folding my hands in my lap as he grins at me.
“Do you trust me?” His words hang in the air like a beacon in the night, a lighthouse guiding me to shore.
“You’re the only person I trust.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, he pulls into a parking stall a little farther down the road, his eyes fixed on me as I try to gather my bearings.
Sweeping my hair back off my face, I look up and down the dimly lit street, noting how most of it is closed at this time, but the shop right beside us is still bright with a neon sign up top.
Inkie.
“A tattoo shop?” I blurt in question, and he grins, sliding from his seat and rounding the front of the truck before I even consider reaching for my door handle. He’s filling the space a moment later, a cool chill sweeping over me as I stare at his hand extended in my direction.
No words, just trust.
I slip my palm against his as he helps me out of the truck, but as he heads toward the shop, his hand stays wrapped around mine. Heat tingles up my neck as we head inside, where a burly guy sits at a counter.
“Walker.” The man stands, shaking hands with my friend, who releases his grasp to aim a finger toward me.
“Tony, is there any way we can make the appointment for two?” The burly guy, or Tony, I should say, rakes his eyes over me from head to toe twice before glancing back at Walker.
“What does she want?” he asks, and I purse my lips, hating that he doesn’t ask me directly. Walker must sense my irritation because his hand tightens around me.
“She’ll have the same as me,” he explains, and the guy nods in understanding.
I’m silent, nerves getting the better of me as we’re directed to the back of the shop, where there’s a large area set up that will accommodate two people getting tattoos at the same time.
Like the puppet I am, I let Walker snap the hair tie from my wrist and work my hair into a messy bun on top of my head before guiding me to lean against the chair and tapping against the back of my neck.
He sits across from me, arm braced against the black, padded table as another guy enters the room. Tony and his friend set up their supplies, but I stare at Walker the entire time. The first time I’m drawn away from his intense stare is when the tattoo gun touches my skin.
I take in a shaky breath, my eyes blown wide, but his presence keeps me calm while the bite of the gun tingles over my skin, reigniting the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins earlier.
It’s almost addicting, the feeling consuming every inch of me so much that I don’t realize how much time passes until someone pats me on the shoulder, confirming I’m done.
Tearing my eyes away from my friend, I clear my throat and stand on wobbly legs as Tony’s friend leads me toward a mirror.
With a small hand mirror, he offers me a glimpse of the first ink to grace my skin.
I say first, because I already know I will need to feel that sensation again.
Staring at it in wonder, tears threaten to spill as I memorize every line and curve.
A dove is inked into my flesh, wings broad and free.
It’s what I hope to be one day.
I fucking love it.
Glancing at Walker, I stare in disbelief when I see the exact same tattoo on his skin.
He smiles at me and it warms my heart as I grin back at him. Despite the madness that surrounds me, I feel safe, grounded, and content in this moment with him. He reaches for my hand, and as I press my palm against his, the warming sensation ripples up my arm, spreading even hotter this time.
It doesn’t calm, it doesn’t satiate, it grows hotter and hotter until it’s unbearable, and I cry out as my eyelids slam shut.
His touch is gone; all I feel is pain. Daring to pry my eyes back open, another scream rips from my lungs as I blink. The tattoo shop is gone, Walker’s gone, it’s all gone, except the sense of familiarity.
I hate it the moment I realize where I am.
Bound to the board behind me, my screams grow mute as I catch a glimpse of The Sanctum members standing on the other side of the glass like I’m a danger to them, despite them being the ones to hurt me.
The same woman with the science lab cloak and clipboard in hand stands to my right, oblivious to the terror I’m reeling in as another pulse of pain washes over me.
I know what they’re doing. How could I forget?
Test after test after test, it’s all too much.
The face of a vampire.
The face of a witch.
The face of a wolf.
Fangs, claws, spells, I’ve endured it all, but it seems there’s still more to take from me.
They’ve unleashed everything on me, bringing me back to consciousness again and again, only to wreak more havoc on my body. My name is a curse on their lips as they force me to open my eyes repeatedly.
“Elodie. Elodie! Elodie!!”
My eyes shoot wide in panic as Ocean’s face comes into view, tearing me from whatever twisted nightmare that was, but her presence does nothing to quell the horror taking root inside of me.
Screams echo around the room as I try to settle my gaze on Ocean, worrying over what’s wrong with her, when I quickly realize the sound is coming from me. My cheeks are drenched in tears, the pillow damp beneath my head as I writhe in fear, twisted in my bedsheets.
I try to focus on my friend to shake the dread from the pit of my stomach, but it’s impossible, especially with the way the back of my neck burns.
My chest heaves, my vision blurring once again as tears spill down my face and my hands ball into fists.
“How can I help you, Elodie?” Ocean asks, her voice an octave higher than usual, fueled with panic as I claw at the back of my neck.
I shake my head, desperate for her aid, but I don’t know anything other than the terror I feel.
She inches closer, nipping at her bottom lip as she tucks a loose blonde curl behind her ear. “Are you going to be mad if I get Kael?” she breathes, and I frown, unable to comprehend what that even means, when a bang comes from the door.
We both stare at it with uncertainty, but I only last a second before my body curls in on itself, writhing with pain as I dip my chin to my chest and claw at my neck even more.
“Why the fuck is this door locked?” someone hollers from the other side, and I pause, deep in the thick of the panic.
“You fixed it?” I rasp, my shoulders sagging with a bit of relief as she murmurs her confirmation. “Thank you,” I manage, the rest of my body tense and tight as she clears her throat.
“Should I let him in?” she asks as I pant, every breath tighter than the last, but at least the screaming has stopped for a minute.
“Yes,” I rasp, desperate for someone, anyone, to take this all away.
The second the lock clicks, I hear the sweep of the door widening, but I don’t lift my head as Kael’s voice fills the room.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. She was sleeping, then the whimpers came, the tears not far behind them, before she started screaming. Now she’s hellbent on scratching the skin at the back of her neck off,” she admits, and I gulp, hating how that all sounds.
A shadow casts over me a moment later and a set of fingers curl around my wrist, their thumb running across my skin soothingly.
“Petal…” Rion’s nickname for me lingers in the air, somehow guiding me toward the safety of his embrace and away from the tendrils of horror that continue to twist through my limbs.
“Help me.”
Two words, two teeny-tiny words, and I shatter.
The tears fall again, but I don’t feel them soak my pillow as I am weightlessly lifted from the bed and feel the hard chest of a wolf wrap me in his arms.
“Whatever you need, Elodie. I’m right here,” he promises as I continue to try to rip the burning mark from my skin.
“What’s that on her neck?” Kael asks, and Rion scoffs.
“Are you sure you’ve seen her naked? Because you sure as shit don’t act like it. It’s a fucking tattoo, you doofus.”
“A dove.”
The assessment comes from Thorne, his voice a little farther away than the others, but I whimper at the acknowledgment.
“I hate it. I hate it. I hate it,” I chant, pressing my fingertips into my flesh. “I can’t stand what it represents. I hate the memory of it. I hate the feel of it. Fuck, it burns so bad.”
The panic in my chest grows stronger, even as I press the side of my face into Rion’s chest, praying for some form of reprieve, but it doesn’t come.
“She’s inconsolable. Someone help her,” Ocean hisses as Rion sighs, his breath rushing against the side of my face.
“Why do you always need help in ways I can’t give?” he mutters before I feel a new set of hands wrap around me, carrying me away from his warm chest.
Daring to pry my eyes open again, I find myself under the spell of Thorne’s dark pools as he takes a seat on the edge of Ocean’s bed.
I can’t imagine what I look like, still wearing Kael’s stupid t-shirt and crying like a fool. No wonder he forever tries to keep me at arm’s length.
“I can remove the ink. Will it help?” he asks, brushing his thumb over my cheek as I continue to wrap my fingers around my throat, desperate to contain the burning.
Scared, I blink at him, but nod nonetheless as more tears continue to spill down my cheek.
Without a word, Thorne keeps one hand wrapped around my back, holding me in his lap while he brings his free hand to my neck, ghosting over my wrists as he goes.
My fingers twitch, not wanting to move, but the need for it to be gone is greater than anything else.
With a deep breath, I let my hold fall slack and he wastes no time, nudging my hand out of the way as he runs his fingertips over my heated flesh.
Another whimper. Another chink in my armor. Another flash of my vulnerabilities.
His lips move, nothing more than a breath over my face as he continues to look into my eyes.
I know the moment it’s gone, the very second it no longer exists on my skin anymore, because my muscles loosen, the tightness in my chest evaporates, and the tears stop like the well inside of me ran out.
Looking down at my hands, I realize they’re clinging to his t-shirt, holding on for dear life, but I can’t bring myself to let go.
All too quickly, I’m in the air again, pinned against his chest as he carries me back to my bed, but when he tries to lower me, I can’t let go until the flash of black ink on his right arm makes me freeze.
My jaw falls slack as I gape in disbelief. He tries to tug his sleeve down, but it’s not long enough. I can see it as clear as I see him.
“Why do you have that?” I breathe, staring at the exact same tattoo on his skin that I swear wasn’t there before.
He shrugs, shaking his head dismissively. “It had to go somewhere.”
Bile burns the back of my throat. “No, I—”
He runs his hand over the spot, the black ink fading to nothing, but my gut tells me it’s still there. “Sleep,” he commands, and I shake my head again.
“I can’t.”
“You need to rest,” he insists, unraveling my fingers from the fabric of his t-shirt as he stands, allowing the rest of the room to come into view. Kael, Rion, and Ocean all stand with wide eyes, assessing me as I try to hide the shame I feel.
How can I protect myself from further hurt when I reveal my pains so easily?
“Rest,” Thorne repeats, and I scoff, emotion thick in my throat.
“It’s not as simple as that,” I splutter, squeezing my eyes shut as the telltale sign of tears forming against the back of my eyelids burns my nose.
“It’s okay,” he breathes, the bed dipping beside me, but I refuse to look. “I’ll take it all away, just for tonight.”
My protest is on the tip of my tongue, my embarrassment already high enough, but before I can form a single word, I’m swept into a world of darkness. Only this time, it’s warm, it’s safe, and it’s freeing.