Chapter 5 #3
It rings, and then goes to voicemail. I send her a text saying I called the diner and ask if she’s feeling all right. I wait for five minutes, but she doesn’t read it or reply.
She already got all the comfort she needs from Leon.
That gloomy thought follows me all the way home.
In the afternoon, I take Rosie to her favorite park where there’s a water fountain and a little pond with ducks swimming. She plays with the other children, and I push her on a swing, then I hold her in my arms while we point out all the ducks to each other .
As we enjoy the sunshine, I examine my own feelings.
Am I coping with the aftereffects of all that violence?
With Rosie cuddled in my arms, I relive each kill.
The slash of a knife across a throat. The two quick gunshots.
The furious stabbing. I can’t decide which kill I enjoyed more.
I wonder if Elena saw the pleasure in my face when I killed those men. The ecstasy in my eyes.
“Duck-ee,” Rosie says, pointing toward the pond.
“You’re not scared Daddy is a killer, are you?” I whisper to my daughter.
Rosie smiles up at me, and I laugh and kiss the top of her head.
When I’m taking off Rosie’s shoes in the kitchen back home, Leon finally appears. I study him, wondering if he’s about to tell me I’m a cradle-robbing asshole for kissing his girlfriend.
“Hey, Dad. Good day today?” He heads straight for the refrigerator and pours himself a soda, no trace of anger, disbelief, or disgust in his face.
Elena didn’t tell him anything. That’s a relief.
But a moment later, my heart sinks. If Elena didn’t tell Leon about the kiss, it means she’s pretending it didn’t happen.
It would have been difficult to navigate the storm of anger and betrayal as Leon processed the hurt we caused.
But after that storm, and their inevitable breakup, there would have been space in Elena’s life for me.
When she clung to me in the aftermath of all that violence, I hoped that maybe we could…
I rub my hand over my eyes. Of course not. Stupid fucking Cullan. Elena’s not going to break up with her boyfriend and start dating his father. Nice girls don’t do crazy shit like that, and Elena is a really nice girl.
“Dad?”
“Sorry. Sudden headache.” I open my eyes.
Rosie is sitting on the counter in front of me while I hold her with one hand, and despite everything, I smile at the way she bounces enthusiastically.
Both my kids are home, and I want to enjoy this.
I haven’t spent enough time with them since Mercer drew me back into the dark underbelly of Blackport.
“Leon, we missed out on the game yesterday, so how about the three of us go out to dinner? You can pick the place.”
“My pick?” Leon asks, brightening.
“To make up for shoving you out of my truck yesterday,” I say in a conciliatory tone. I don’t believe my son should be rewarded for not taking Elena’s plight seriously, but he did comfort her after her ordeal.
Leon picks a ribs and steak joint, and the three of us head off.
Once we’re seated at the table with Rosie in a high chair, my son makes funny faces and plays with her. He tickles her tummy, and she laughs while we wait for our food. This is rare behavior for Leon. Maybe Elena’s patience and sweetness toward Rosie is rubbing off on him.
I feel a pang. Elena makes my son happy, and she’s having a positive influence on him. Them being together is probably for the best.
Our food arrives, and Leon bites into some fries. “So what happened when you went to pick up Elena yesterday? It must have been one epic fight.”
“Didn’t Elena tell you?” I put some of my penne on a side plate for Rosie.
“She didn’t say much. Just that she got grabbed, and you fought the guys off.”
Elena kept things vague. Good girl. No mention of murder and holding each other while bodies were strewn about us. “That’s basically it.”
“Thank you for going to get her. She was pretty shaken up about the whole thing.”
I frown into my food until Rosie kicks her legs, asking for more pasta. I feed it to her. What does that mean, the whole thing? The attack, the murders, and the kiss?
“No need to thank me. She’s a lovely girl. You’re very lucky.”
“Yeah, and she’s banging as well,” Leon says with a grin.
I glare at my son from beneath my brows. Banging. What a crude way to speak about Elena.
Leon bites into his burger, but I find I’ve lost my appetite. Elena’s not mine, and I shouldn’t care about what goes on between them, but my chest feels tight, and a bitter taste fills my mouth.
I put down my fork. “Leon, are you sleeping with Elena? ”
Leon chokes on his mouthful. “Dad, what the fuck?”
“Excuse me?” I raise an eyebrow. My children do not swear at me.
Leon wipes his mouth on his napkin. “What the hell, then. Dad, I’m twenty-one. We had ‘the talk’ years ago.”
“You’re living under my roof.”
“Sometimes.”
“Most of the time. So answer my question.”
“It’s private,” he mutters.
I narrow my eyes, suspicion swirling through me.
I can ignore my feelings for Elena as long as I know no one else is getting what I crave.
“Your mother and I waited until we were married.” That’s a lie.
“We carefully planned for you.” Not true at all.
I was surprised when Rebecca found out she was pregnant, and she was as well.
Looking back, I think she was closer to devastation than surprise.
“Abstinence is the only fail-safe form of contraception.” One hundred percent correct.
“You’re sounding really churchy right now, Dad. We’re not church people.”
“No, but Elena is. She’s Catholic. Contraception is morally wrong to Catholics.”
Leon’s face falls. “I didn’t think of that.”
“I hope you think about it now,” I say, picking up my fork once more.
“Elena will be waiting for marriage.” If Elena needs a man to marry her and make getting her pregnant to be his full-time job for the sake of her mortal soul, I can be that man.
I’d carry mountains on my back to be that man.
A boy like Leon isn’t ready for that kind of commitment.
“That explains a lot, actually,” says Leon.
What does that explain? Has Elena already refused to go on birth control or sleep with him?
I want answers to a hundred questions about their relationship that I have no right to ask.
If I keep talking about Elena, Leon is going to be suspicious, and so I shove some penne in my mouth and chew it like it did me a personal wrong.
It’s good pasta, but I don’t have the appetite to finish it.
After dinner, I check the message I sent to Elena, and see blue ticks but no reply. Elena has left me on read.
I don’t expect Elena to show up to her next scheduled babysitting appointment because I haven’t heard one peep from her, but on Tuesday evening, she arrives promptly at five.
When I see her on my doorbell app, I practically fly to the door and open it.
When she raises her face to mine, her blue eyes are filled with emotion. Blue eyes as big as a summer sky. “Mr. Grant.” She opens her mouth to speak again, but she doesn’t seem to know what to say.
My heart sinks. I’m back to being called Mr. Grant.
Elena had better not have come here just to resign. I stand back to let her in, and as soon as I have the door closed, she places her hand on my chest .
“Are you all right, Mr. Grant?” she whispers.
I look at her hand in surprise. Leon’s upstairs, and Mrs. Kerr is still here somewhere. I glance around, put my hand on her shoulder, and steer her into the living room. I leave the door ajar, but we’re alone in the room together.
“Me? Don’t worry about me. How are you?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “I was really tired the day after, but other than that, I think I’m all right. Tell me the truth. Do you think you’ll be okay after everything you had to do?”
I feel my mouth twitch, but I swallow down my laughter. This sweet girl is worried that I’m suffering because of the violence I committed for her? I haven’t felt so alive in years. “I’ll be just fine, Elena. As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters to me.”
She smiles and breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you back. There was so much I wanted to say to you, but I thought it would be safer if I didn’t put any of it in writing.”
Very clever of her. As usual, Elena has good instincts. “That was probably for the best.”
“I’ve been afraid that the police will find out what happened and arrest you. I keep picturing you in a jail cell because of me. I’ll do anything to stop that from happening.”
Well, isn’t she a dream? Accomplice to my murders.
Co-conspirator to my crimes. Sounds pretty intimate, when you think about it.
If the police bother to investigate the murder of four lowlifes in Fenton, they’ll hardly put their best officers on the job, and any witnesses will keep their mouths shut.
No one rats in Fenton. “I don’t know. I should probably turn myself in. It’s the honest thing to do.”
Elena’s eyes widen in horror. She reaches up, and her fingers curl into my shoulder muscles. “Mr. Grant, no. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison. I won’t be able to bear it.”
I pretend to consider the matter while I enjoy her holding me tightly and imploring me with those baby blue eyes.
“I know it’s wrong, but after what those men intended to do to me, I’m glad they’re dead and you’re free.”
I caress her cheek with the backs of my knuckles. “You’re not frightened of me? I killed men right in front of you.”
“Why would I be frightened of you? You’re the man who saved me.”
Oh, fuck. My eyes drop to her mouth. I gave in to my bloodlust, and Elena is grateful. That’s the hottest thing a woman’s ever said to me.
Elena’s gaze settles on my lips as well. I shouldn’t be thinking about the kiss we shared, but apparently, I’m not the only one.
I try to be a good father to both my children. I provide for them, protect them, love them twice as much to make up for their mother’s disinterest in them. Stealing my son’s girlfriend is pretty high on the list of things that a good father would never do.
But what if the girl in question saw me kill four men, and then kissed me like she can’t breathe without me? Now that the dust is settling, she’s still looking at me like she craves everything I am, inside and out.
I put my hands on Elena’s waist and gently back her against a bookcase.
I move slowly, because she’s a wild fawn who might startle and run from me.
If she does, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from chasing after her, seizing her tightly, and pushing her against the wall.
Right now I’m trying to be so gentle for her.
I caress her face and murmur, “You didn’t tell Leon about anything that happened between us? Not even the kiss?”
Elena shakes her head. She’s safe in the circle of my arms with my head bent over her.
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“We made a mistake because of the intense situation.” But she looks conflicted. Because she doesn’t know what she wants, or because she doesn’t know if she’s allowed to have it?
I bend my head lower toward her lips, and whisper, “Was it a mistake?”
Is there a chance she doesn’t want Leon, and she wants me instead?
Her mouth is parted, and her eyes are filled with longing. Does she ever look at Leon like this, or is this needy expression just for me? We’re so close that her face is just inches from mine. I put a hand on the bookcase by her head. All she has to do is raise her chin, and I can kiss her.
“Elena, how attached are you to my son? ”
I know what I’d say if she wasn’t dating my son. Be a good girl and tip those pretty lips up for a kiss. But first I have to know how she feels.
“Cullan…” she breathes.
I cup her jaw and slide my thumb over her full lips. Elena closes her eyes and arches her throat as I touch her, and desire pours through me. She shouldn’t say my name like that and respond to my touch like that if she wants me to back off. I have to know if I have a chance with her.
“Tell me. How much do you really want my son?”
“I…” she begins softly.
There are footsteps in the hallway, and Leon calls, “Elena?”
Elena gasps and lets go of me. Her eyes are stormy with confusion, and she dashes away from me and into the kitchen.
I press my fist into the wood and grit my teeth. I was so fucking close.
Leon comes in from the hallway. “Dad? I thought I heard Elena down here.”
I pull a book from the shelf and flick through it, and then turn to my son. “Elena? No, I haven’t seen her.”