Chapter Fifty-One - Elise
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Elise
When I was five years old, my parents took my brothers and me to a lake house for the Fourth of July. It was rare for us to take family trips like that, so it’s easy to recall the weekend.
It’s among the few memories I have of my mother.
My brothers were having a contest to see who could hold their breath underwater the longest, but they wouldn’t let me join because it was a game for big kids. In my childish pride, I decided to practice holding my breath so I could impress them.
I swam to the opposite side of the deck so they couldn’t see me and submerged myself, glad Mom and Dad weren’t outside to catch me swimming without my floaties.
After several tries, my small lungs still couldn’t last more than a few seconds, but I was determined.
Maybe, I had thought, if I swim deep enough, I’ll have no choice but to hold my breath, and then I’ll get better!
With my eyes open in the murky lake water, I could barely make out the light from the surface from how deep I was, and for a moment, I was so proud of myself.
Just then, a fish brushed against my foot, and I couldn’t help but scream, losing all the oxygen in my lungs. In my panic, I tried to breathe, but the water stung my throat, and the fear that seized me was unlike anything I’d felt in my short lifetime.
As my body screamed for air, I could hear a voice. It was faint and muddled through the water, but I knew, without a doubt, that it was my mother. The relief I felt at the sound of her voice was instantaneous.
“Elise!” she had called. “Elise, can you hear me?”
Darkness threatened to take over my vision, but I could make out the shape of her jumping into the water to save me.
“Can you hear me, Elise? Please, wake up,” the voice begs, but it’s different now. Still distant and murky from under the water, but less feminine.
I flail my arms, desperate to break through the waterline and find the source of the voice.
“Please, Elise. We can’t lose you, too,” the voice whispers.
Two things become clear then.
First, that voice isn’t my mother.
Second, I’m no longer a child underwater.
Then, why can’t I find my breath? Why can’t I open my eyes? Why is the faint whisper the only sound breaking through the fog?
With everything I have, I fight through the darkness.
“I think she’s starting to wake up,” a voice exclaims.
“Elise, can you hear me?”
I want to nod, but I’m not sure how to. I keep forcing my way through the thick haze that holds me captive.
I make a sound resembling a whimper, and a surge of determination shoots through my veins. With all the strength I can muster, I finally feel my eyelids flutter open.
The bright light is harsh against my sensitive eyes, and I cringe away from it.
“Turn off the light. I think it’s hurting her eyes.”
I want to thank whoever said it, but I’m too busy making my eyes work to find my words.
When I hear the tap of a switch being flipped, I give it another try. This time, it’s much easier to peel my eyes open, though it takes a moment to process my surroundings.
I lie in a hospital bed with a white sheet draped over my body. I expect the rest of the room to match the bed, but aside from a few machines around me, it just resembles a bedroom. Plain walls, wooden flooring, a bathroom to the right, and a dresser with a tray of food placed on it.
The two forms looming over me steal my focus, and tears prick my eyes at the sight of them.
“Elise,” Logan breathes a relieved sigh. “You’re awake.”
He sits on my left, hand covering mine, and I’m so glad to see that a bandage wrapped around his wrist and a nasty bruise on his cheek are the extent of his injuries.
James holds my right hand, and he looks more roughed up than Logan—various bandages cover his arms, and a thick wrap peeks out from beneath his shirt, seeming to cover his shoulder.
I want to respond, but my dry throat won’t allow it. With a great deal of effort, I nod in the direction of the water, and James rushes to bring it to me, spilling some on the floor in the process.
“How are you feeling?” Logan asks as I take a sip.
Once the water eases my dry throat, I’m able to find my voice.
“I don’t really feel anything,” I admit in a croak.
They nod in sync, looking every bit like the twins they are. “That would be the morphine.”
I glance down at my body, but a sheet prevents me from seeing the extent of the damage. “What’s the diagnosis?”
“The most concerning injury is your head,” Logan tells me. “You hit it in the explosion. When you weren’t waking up, the doctor ran a few tests, but everything looked normal. He said you worked yourself into exhaustion, and your body wasn’t ready to wake up yet.”
James nods. “There’s a lot of bruising around your throat, but no significant damage. Other than that, there’s just your arm…”
My eyes fall to the bandage that conceals the vulgar word. “Is it going to scar?”
“It shouldn’t,” Logan says. “But only time will tell.”
I suppose I should be devastated by the fact that I could have the word brAT etched into my arm for the rest of my life, but I’m not. Maybe it’s because I’ve already been scarred or because I killed the man who inflicted the pain, but I can accept this.
“It’s fine,” I say, and they turn raised brows my way. “I’m not happy about it, but I’ll be fine.”
The two share a look, and I’m about to assure them again when I realize that I don’t recognize the room we’re in. I search for a clock or any way to tell how long it’s been, but there’s nothing.
“Where are we? And how long have I been asleep?”
“It’s been two days since the night at the factory,” Logan says, his shoulders tense though his face remains composed. “And we’re at Moreno’s base.”
I shoot to a sitting position, momentarily losing my vision as I do and wincing when I notice the IV attached to my arm. “Where’s Joshua?”
“Woah—” James holds his hands out but quickly drops them when he doesn’t know how to help. “Calm down, Elise. You need to rest.”
“Where is he?”
My brothers share a look, neither of them answering my question, and I imagine the worst.
“What happened to him? Is he okay?” A nearby machine beeps wildly as my heart races.
James sighs, conflict waging behind his eyes. “He’s fine.”
The knot in my chest loosens, and I lean back in the bed, catching my breath.
“Unfortunately,” Logan mutters under his breath.
James shoots him a warning glare before looking back at me. “He left half an hour ago to do rounds.”
“He was here?”
“He doesn’t leave this room,” James complains. “But neither do we, so you haven’t been alone with him.”
I can only imagine the kind of tension that must have created.
“Will you tell him I’m awake? I really need to talk to him.”
They exchange another look, seeming to communicate telepathically.
“What’s going on?”
Logan speaks first. “Elise, you’re safe now.”
He says the statement like I should understand what that has to do with anything.
I don’t.
When it’s clear I’m not following, James takes over. “Whatever things Moreno told you or did to you, it’s over now. You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”
My first instinct is to jump to Joshua’s defense, but I can hardly blame them for their worry. I went missing for two months and was presumed dead. Of course, they want me as far away from Joshua as possible, but they don’t get it.
“I promise you, it’s not like that. He hasn’t brainwashed or forced me into anything.”
They don’t say anything, and their troubled expressions remain fixed.
I drop my voice to a whisper. “I love him.”
That gets their attention.
James pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself while Logan glowers at me. “You don’t love him, Elise. He kidnapped you.”
“Yes, and that proved to be quite an obstacle, but there’s so much that you guys don’t know.”
“Like what?” James demands. “What could possibly justify what he did?”
“It’s a long story that I’d love to tell you, but I really need to talk to Joshua right now.”
James shakes his head. “Elise, look at yourself! He’s done nothing but hurt you.”
This is going to be more difficult than I thought.
“Joshua’s done nothing but protect me. If you want to blame someone for all of this, then blame Mason. He’s the real bad guy here.”
“Maybe this wasn’t him, but those scars on your back are older. You can’t honestly tell me that’s from him protecting you.”
I unconsciously drop my gaze when a wave of shame that I thought I had moved past washes over me.
They’ve seen my scars.
I wasn’t going to keep it a secret forever, but I wanted the chance to tell them when I was ready.
And I’m not ready yet.
“That’s a long story, too,” I whisper, still avoiding their contemptuous eyes.
Logan puffs his chest out, and for a moment, he looks just like our father. “Elise, we’re your family, not him. You don’t even know him.”
When I laugh, the sound is sour. “I know Joshua better than I know any of you!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that Mason was living a double life. Damon’s an alcoholic—” their eyes widen at that.
They hadn’t known Mason filled me in. “You’re the family heir, and Dad cared more about his empire than me.
I don’t know any of you! James is the only one that doesn’t seem to have a secret.
” I turn to him. “Do you have anything you want to tell me?”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “Nothing happening here.”
“Well then, I guess James is the only member of our family I know.”
Logan opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“Just because I didn’t want to be a part of the business doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be a part of our family.
Yes, Joshua kidnaped me, and it was certainly a less-than-ideal situation, but being here was the first time in years that I haven’t been completely alone. ”
As if they planned it, my brothers shift forward, each taking one of my hands.