23. Blesk #2
I had a key all along.
Now, I have the key to something else. His past. I have the key to answers he may have, to details he may have forgotten, because as much as I tried, as much as I buried the idea of a girl under a tree on a hill on that day, the memories never dissolved. I remember him.
My stomach cramps.
He has been through hell and back. I have some answers to his past, not many, but some. Once I tell him everything, paint a true picture of his captivity, everything I kept him from, maybe he'll let Liz go, too.
Maybe he’ll find peace.
Being Konnor.
Just Konnor.
This might just be his closure.
I can give him that.
Sitting under the hot spray, I analyse something he said. “I want to be here for you. I am here for you, every day for the rest of your life, Blesk. No one will ever hurt you again.” What fantastical ideal has he got in his head?
I’m not the victim.
It’s all a blur, but I remember the ambulance arriving yesterday, followed by a police car.
My property is just outside The District…
In The District you don’t call the police with an ambulance.
You don’t call them for much at all, honestly.
They don’t come alone. Just like this time…
The officers handcuffed Konnor until two black SUV’s arrived.
Four men in black suits walked onto the hill—didn’t they?
I was still crying at that stage, my vision blurred, my mind screaming for a moment of peace. The men, they spoke to the police who released Konnor with hardly a conversation.
“Just a fight over a girl,” they assured the officer. “Nothing more. The boss has said our boy won’t be pressing charges.” They followed the ambulance away from the hill and left Elise and Jax wondering what the hell happened. I was oddly unsurprised.
Who is Erik involved with?
Or was a witness protection unit? Responding to a violent attack on a hill that was once famous for holding a little boy captive? I was simply relieved that Konnor wasn’t handcuffed; the thought of him spending a single moment in a cell would probably destroy us both.
Konnor… He doesn’t know that I can’t be what he wants me to be. Finding each other again is not a blessing, it is a tragedy. My heart squeezes as that thought arises; I don’t want to be Liz. I don’t want to be liked or loved for Liz.
I soap myself up and down.
Standing under the faucet, I watch as the water rushes down me and the soap disappears down the drain. All trace of Erik’s mistake, his touch and smell, rushing into the pipes.
I towel dry my long, thick blonde hair enough that it isn’t dripping and wrap myself in a cashmere towel. It’s so soft. Konnor’s new family has money.
When I swing the bathroom door open, Konnor is sitting on the edge of the mattress with his face buried in his hands. At the sight of the bandages around his knuckles, I wince.
He lifts his head as if he heard me, then quickly stands. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” My heart thumps hard inside my chest as his eyes rake my towel-covered body. A chill rushes through me. My naked legs break out in goosebumps. I like how he's looking at me, but then he lowers his eyes and shifts in place, almost out of discomfort.
He is different with me; I don’t want him to be different with me!
He doesn’t want to be corny or flirty with her… Does he think of me as a sister now? Did seeing Erik with me… spoil me for him or— I don’t know.
“Get dressed.” He walks away from me and strolls around to the living room, not glancing up once.
I stare at the ground, then quickly dress in the clothes Elise brought for me, hiding on the other side of the bookcase, though I doubt he’ll even try to glimpse at me anymore.
I enter the living room, dressed.
He shoots up. “You okay?”
“I’m fine!” I huff. “Please stop asking that!” I didn’t mean to yell. I rub my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not fine.”
I drop my hands to my side and stare straight at him. “You’re treating me differently.”
He blinks at me as if I have grown another head. “Yeah.” He nods. “No shit, Blesk. Of course, I am. You mean more to me than anyone else in this damn world. I’m not going to look at you like you are just another girl.”
My chest tightens. “So that is how you looked at me before? Like just another girl.”
“Wait.” He frowns. “No. Fuck, I always looked at you different. I always—"
“Then look at me like that again.”
He locks his jaw on more words, speaking through gritted teeth. “I can’t. Not right now. You’re my Liz.”
“I’m not that little girl anymore.”
It's taken me years to build some semblance of a life and bury my past, but now he wants to dig it all back up. Treat me like her. What is that going to look like? Is he going to constantly dwell on the past. I don’t want to think about it.
I don’t want the nightmares to come back.
I don’t want to live as Liz every time he looks at me!
I rush towards his apartment door, before I realise what I’m doing.
And I’m out of the room.
I run towards the elevator and step inside, but his feet come thumping after me. They stop when I get inside the elevator—he stops. I turn to face him as he stares at the threshold, distraught and gutted.
“I can’t.” He looks at the elevator doors as they close. He lifts his hand, stopping them. “Please don’t stand in there, Blesk. I can’t go in after you.”
Oh, God.
He can’t use elevators.
My lower lip trembles.
“Please.” His throat rolls. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to act. I’m doing the best I can, given the circumstances.”
I look at the metal strip between the elevator and the hallway.
The doors go to close again, and he uses his foot this time, groaning as the tip of his shoe slides slightly inside the metal box.
“Please. Come out of there.” His voice strains.
“I’m not acting differently because I don’t want to know Blesk anymore.
I’m just trying to respect you and be nice to you.
Given things are different. That is all this is.
After everything that happened yesterday... I have no idea how to act."
The doors begin to close again.
I hit the hold button and step out into the hallway. He exhales hard, clearly relieved. We take a few moments standing there, me waiting for him and him waiting for me.
“Do you want me to be corny?” He tries to grin, showing me that double-dimpled face. “Will that make you come back inside?” He forces a chuckle before saying, “It’s not just Liz. Blesk had me at cello…”
The contradiction between that cringy joke and his serious brows pulled tight, makes me smile. “Okay. Just… I just want you to call me Blesk.”
“Okay... Blesk.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Can we go back to the couch? Can you stop trying to run away from me?” He combs his fingers through his hair. “It kinda hurts my ego.”
A half-smile pulls at my lips, and I nod, just once.
We walk slowly back to his apartment, with him practically sheep-dogging me over to the couch.
“I won’t run,” I say.
“Your track record is sketchy.”
I bite my soft smile. “True.”
We sit down. He rubs his hands on his thighs, eyes glued to me with an intensity I’m not comfortable with, and yet— I accept.
“I remember you... Blesk.” He studies my face, shaking his head in awe. “You’re a duchess, ya know that? You were always beautiful to me, but now… Well, fuck. You have grown into this woman. I couldn’t have drawn you. What happened yesterday with Er—"
“Don’t.” I lift my hand to stop him talking.
His jaw muscles pulse, and he closes his eyes.
“Konnor?”
He opens his eyes.
I look at the man across from me—so similar to the boy I once knew—and my throat thickens. I’ve always wondered, I’ve always hoped that what came after me was everything he finally deserved. “Did your new family give you a good life?” I clear my throat. “Have you had a good life, Konnor?”
His green gaze softens on my face. “I’ve had an awesome life. And it’s about to get better.”
I sip my coffee, now a little cold, but I’m too nervous to ask to put it in the microwave as if a slightly cold coffee is the end of the world when we are literally reliving our trauma.
As Konnor cooks us bacon and eggs, I can see the unanswered questions filling his eyes. Questions that clearly make him irritable. He'd be terrible at playing poker; his feelings shine through his gaze.
I like that about him.
That authenticity… that truth.
He's softly spoken with me though—cautious, even—as if I'll detonate at any moment. To be fair, I did run, twice. I wonder if the first time I ran, he didn’t follow because he knew he couldn’t outrun the elevator.
I never thought that through. How he probably takes the stairs.
No one would wonder why because he’s an athlete.
No one would guess he’s afraid of confined spaces. I feel that in my heart.
He turns the cooker off and stares at the pan for what feels like too long, then he says, "Are you okay?"
Of course, I'm not. But I'm a lot better off than Erik, who was air driven to the hospital yesterday and tailed by whoever he is working with at the moment. A tech CEO, maybe, or— I don’t want to think he’s finally got himself wrapped up in The District business.
But, as soon as I saw those cars. My first thought was… the District mob.
And Erik is alone.
Will the hospital call my dad?
Will my dad call me? I sip the cold coffee. I can't help but think about whether Erik is in critical condition or if he's even awake and angry, remorseful, and—
Forcing those thoughts down, I lie, "Yes."
He shakes his head at the pan, eyes unable to lift from the grease and bacon. He grinds his teeth, then forces out words, his voice deeper, tone darker. "Do you want to go to the doctors? To check—"
"No! That's not necessary."
He nods at the stove as if disappointed. Does he know? Does he know that I let Erik… do things to me.