Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
ELIZABETH
Just as I’m about to brush my teeth, someone knocks on my front door.
Every synapse goes on alert, my fight or flight instincts kicking into fight mode. Maintenance hasn’t replaced my door yet, and a swift kick would be enough for someone to break in.
I grab the pair of scissors I was using earlier. After a quick glance through the peephole, I unlock the dead bolt and open the door. I’m greeted with the unexpected sight of Elijah standing there, looking completely out of place on my doorstep at ten o’clock at night.
My confusion is apparent. “Elijah? Is everything okay?”
“May I come in?”
I hesitate, glancing over my shoulder at the disarray behind me. The stack of cardboard boxes and bags of trash by the entry isn’t exactly welcoming.
“Uh…yeah. Come in. It’s a bit of a mess.”
“I can take this stuff down to the dumpster if you want,” he offers.
“That’s very sweet of you, but I’ll do it in the morning.”
As soon as he steps inside, I close the door behind him. Elijah’s gaze drops to my stomach, his look of sympathy making me immediately uncomfortable.
Damn it. The scars.
I quickly pull the hem of my tank top down as far as it will stretch.
Shifting my weight, I tap the scissors against my leg. “Um, would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, soda, juice.”
“Water would be nice.”
I scurry into the kitchen and grab a bottle from the pantry.
“Glass with ice?” I ask, trying to fill the silence.
“Plain’s fine.”
I hand it to him and instinctively position myself on the other side of the kitchen island, the counter providing some sense of separation between us.
Elijah brings the bottle to his lips. “Julien told me.”
Guilt rides me hard.
As soon as I saw him through the peephole, I knew that was the reason why he dropped by, but it doesn’t make it any easier. The truth is, I used Julien like some kind of test subject because he looks like Jayson. It was stupid—so, so stupid, and I instantly regretted it.
“I’m sorry, Elijah. It wasn’t fair of me to put him in that position. And it wasn’t fair to you. I feel awful. Please, don’t be angry with him. It’s my fault, not his.”
The words tumble out faster than intended, but I can’t stop them.
“I appreciate that. I know you didn’t do it to be malicious or steal Julien away from me. Did you find the answer you were looking for?”
I nod, but the shame weighs so heavily on me that I can’t look him in the eyes. Instead, I cover my face with both hands, a growl of frustration escaping my throat as I spin on my heels, my footsteps echoing off the tile floor as I start to pace.
“I wish I could be her. The girl you all want back. But I’m not.” My hands ball into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I struggle to keep my composure. “I hate this. I hate feeling like this.”
“Can I tell you something?” he says.
I nod, giving him my full attention.
“For a long time, Julien struggled with his feelings for me and with his bisexuality. You supported him and stood by him through everything. You did the same for me. Welcomed me with open arms. Became my friend. I won’t be able to thank you enough for that. When you disappeared, the guys fell apart. It was bad. Really bad. I’m not going to go into the details, but Julien sank into a deep depression. It almost destroyed us. Not to sound mean, but I felt like I was competing for his love with a ghost. I was never jealous of you, but last year I started hating you, if that makes sense.”
Tears brim my eyes at his heartbreaking confession. “I didn’t know.”
“What I’m trying to say is that Julien still holds a lot of guilt. He feels like he failed you, and he’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
“Whatever happened that night isn’t his fault. The fucking bastard who—” I can’t continue.
My hand shakes uncontrollably as I press it against my side, feeling the jagged, raised lines that have carved themselves into my skin.
The air grows thick around me, oppressive and viscous like tar.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
“Liz. Look at me.” Elijah’s voice cuts through the panic, firm yet soft, grounding me in the moment. “Focus on me. Just me.”
His hand reaches for mine across the counter island.
I force myself to meet his eyes, and the longer I hold his gaze, the easier it becomes to breathe again. He hands me his bottle of water, and I gulp it down in one go.
“That was embarrassing.”
“It’s just you and me. Nothing to feel embarrassed about,” Elijah assures me. “You’re safe here with me. Freak out all you want.”
The reassurance in his tone chips away at the shame threatening to creep in.
“I do feel safe with you,” I admit. “You’ve got this calming aura about you.”
Needing to re-center, my movements are methodical as I take out a loaf of bread and gather the ingredients for a turkey sandwich.
“I’m starving. Want one?”
“Julien’s going to make grilled cheese when I get back.”
Slapping a thick mound of black-pepper turkey on one slice of bread, I squeeze out a small mountain of spicy brown mustard before adding a few ridged potato chips and dill pickle coins.
“I hate hearing that Julien blames himself.”
I take a huge bite out of my humongous sandwich that’s bigger than my mouth.
With a smile that doesn’t quite reach his cheeks, Elijah replies, “If you haven’t noticed, he has a Sir Galahad complex. So, the next time you want answers to questions about Jayson, don’t use Julien to find them. His lips and the rest of his body are off limits.”
Wiping a smear of mustard away, I put the sandwich down on a sheet of paper towel. “I really am so very sorry. I promise I won’t do anything like that again. And thank you. For everything. You’re being more understanding than I deserve.”
Standing from the stool, he rounds the island and takes me in a hug. One I accept readily.
“The guys aren’t the only ones who love you. I do, too. I’ve missed my friend and hope I get the chance to know the girl you are now.”
“I’d like that very much. Can I tell you something crazy?”
“Go for it.”
“I don’t like her.”
“Who?”
“Old Elizabeth. The girl y’all keep saying is me. And I know how that sounds because that girl is me.” He grips the back of my head, and I bury my face in his shoulder. “I don’t want to be scared anymore.”