Chapter 27 Elodie
ELODIE
Iswung the sword around in the center of the gym for all of thirty seconds before I stopped. That thing is heavy. I should probably work on some weights and build up my strength, but the treadmill calls me instead.
If you ever caught me running back home, you can bet your ass it was because I was running from someone; that shit was never out of choice. Whereas now, not only am I choosing it, I’m enjoying it.
Sweat beads at my temples as my arms swing with all my might. It’s almost freeing.
God help me when Ocean realizes she’s made a good impression on me. I’m never going to hear the end of it.
I think I’m spurred on by the fact that I can watch a TV series on my cell phone on the little stand. It’s almost amusing to watch drama that doesn’t involve me unfold on a little screen. It’s juicy and exciting when I don’t feel the weight of it.
It also plays as the perfect background noise as my mind goes crazy over the blades of grass.
My heart skips a beat simply thinking about it.
I’d started to come to terms with the fact that I was a monster.
That my only use was to be a weapon. And maybe I still am, but maybe it’s not all evil, dark, and twisted. Maybe this doesn’t have to define me.
A notification pings across the screen of my cell phone, obscuring the drama unfolding on the screen and pulling me from my thoughts. I frown.
It's a notification from the surveillance app linked to the camera above my bed. My heart stutters.
I'd received a notification a little earlier that showed Ocean moving my bed back into position. So, unless she's doing something around there again, there's no reason for it to be going off.
“Hey, queen, who knew I'd catch you in here?” Ocean hollers, making me startle as I glance over my shoulder and find her in the doorway in her gym clothes.
My eyebrows furrow as I find the words to respond. “Sorry, I didn't want to wake you; otherwise, I would have come down with you. But apparently, I woke up with a pep in my step to give this a go,” I admit, and she grins, although it doesn't quite meet the corner of her eyes.
She's sad, yes, but disappointed? No.
It's a funny kind of feeling when you know the right thing has happened. Even if it doesn't bring you joy, it still leaves an imprint on you whether you like it or not. I can’t say the same about Warren Blackwood, though. I don’t even feel the instinctive urge to refer to him as my father. He’s just gone, and I feel elated.
“Are you going to hop on this bad boy next to me?” I ask, tapping the treadmill beside me as my pulse rings in my ears at the fact that the surveillance app has gone off and she's down here.
She couldn’t have set it off and gotten down here so quickly, could she?
But why else would I get a notification?
If she notices my discomfort and confusion, she doesn't mention it as she climbs on the treadmill beside me and offers me a bottle of water.
“You're a superstar. Thank you,” I mumble, taking it from her hand and quickly distracting myself by gulping down half the bottle in one breath. All too quickly, my attention returns to my cell phone as the surveillance app goes off again.
Ocean must see it too because she clears her throat as she points at the device. “Your surveillance app? Did I leave the window open with the curtains blowing or something?” she asks, her eyebrows gathering in confusion as she tries to think.
“I don't know,” I admit, pulling my cell phone off the stand and pausing the TV series before clicking on the notification.
The screen comes to life and I choke on my next breath, frozen in place as a familiar figure comes into view, dressed head to toe in black, an oversized hoodie obscuring their face from the camera.
It's the figure that seems to appear at night, but right now, the sun is out. It's not even lunch, and they're there.
Is this some kind of mind game?
“Is everything okay?” Ocean asks, and I nod numbly as I run my thumb across the screen, watching as the figure sits perfectly in the center of my bed, their legs dangling over the side as they roll their shoulders back.
I gulp nervously, transfixed as they get comfortable in my space. I don’t move for what feels like an eternity when I finally realize that they are there.
Right now.
I could go up those stairs as fast as I can and catch them, figure out who it is, and put an end to this insanity. That's what I should do. A shiver runs down my spine.
Glancing at Ocean, I find her already staring at me wearily, and I mindlessly shake my head.
“I have to go. I'm so sorry,” I rattle, and she nods.
“It's okay. Are you all right, though?”
I hum in acknowledgment, unable to confirm or deny as I stare at the frame still in my hands.
Live.
“Yeah, I just need answers to a question that’s been on my mind for a while, and now is my time to get it,” I explain without really giving anything away at all, and she nods.
I offer the best smile I can muster as I hurry toward the door, my gaze fixated on my screen. As I wrap my hand around the door handle, I feel the air rush from my lungs.
The figure lifts a leather-gloved hand, then points at the camera for a beat before they flip their palm up and curl a finger, telling me to come.
This isn't a case of me exploiting them. They are there because they want to be discovered.
My heart hammers in my chest as I keep my phone glued to my hand, bolting from the room as fast as I can. I stumble up the steps twice before I make it to the fourth floor, a sense of unease churning in my stomach as I stare at my dorm room door.
Shaken, I’m completely aware that I'm about to come face to face with the mysterious form that has been in my bed most nights without my knowledge. I nervously step as quietly as I can, trying to bide my time and maintain my composure, but it's futile.
My pulse rings so loud that I feel like the world is distorted around me, like I'm drowning in water in search of a shark that I know is stalking me, ready to bite.
Yet, I come willingly anyway.
Reaching for the door handle, I try to take a deep breath, but when the third attempt doesn’t work, I know nothing is going to help me or fuel me with the confidence I need, so I throw caution to the wind and put enough weight on the door handle for the latch to release.
My door creaks open one inch at a time, the sound stiff in the air, but it doesn't quite open up enough for me to see the person seated on my bed while remaining in the hallway.
I have to enter.
With staggered breaths, I take one step, then another, before the familiar black clothing comes into view.
Black sneakers are planted on the floor, shoulder width apart, their elbows leaning against their thighs with their fingers laced together, while their head remains dipped, their hoodie obscuring them from view.
My heart is one beat away from exploding in my chest as I dare to take another step deeper into the room. That single movement triggers a heat breeze around me, followed swiftly by the thud of my bedroom door closing.
I jolt. My breath stutters in my chest as I curl my hands into fists at my sides, ready to unleash God knows what at this person. But before I can do a single thing, they lift their hands.
Excruciatingly slowly, they peel the gloves off each finger, revealing one hand at a time. With care and precision, the gloves are placed at the foot of the bed.
Their head remains downcast, and there's not a single clue about who the person is from their hands. I silently vow to myself that from this day forward, I will always know who someone is based on such a body part. If I live to see another day. I may be standing here awaiting my demise.
My tongue is like lead in my mouth, leaving me unable to speak and completely locked in to their every move.
I’m at their mercy, just like they want.
My next breath lodges in my throat as they reach for their hood, slowly letting it fall.
I gape, lightheaded, and drowning.
“You said you wanted to watch me burn,” he rasps, heat lapping through my veins. It feels like every inch of my body is engulfed in flames.
He stands, tugging the sleeves off his arms before reaching over his shoulder and pulling the fabric over his head to reveal a chiseled chest and abs. The sweatpants cling to his legs, and the cords in his forearms bunch together, all while his eyes remain locked on mine.
“I’ll burn for you. All or nothing. When it comes down to it, whether it's fate or choice, I choose hot.” He shudders, his chest rising and falling in quick succession with every breath he takes, his eyes wild storms.
“Thorne,” I breathe, still entranced as he kicks his shoes off, slips his hands beneath the waistband of his pants, and lets them fall to the floor.
“Are you going to burn with me?” he asks, and I run my tongue over my bottom lip.
My mind reels with even more questions than before I ran up the stairs, but despite the uncertainty, my mind centers, my brain goes calm, and my world stills as I offer him an answer instead.
“Yes.”
One single word has him striding toward me like a predator, hands reaching for my waist before he lifts me in the air, bringing us chest to chest. My legs wrap around his middle instinctively as the tip of his nose grazes mine and our breaths mingle together.
“I’m going to learn everything there is to know about you, Echo. The good, the bad. I'm going to make you mine in every way possible. So be careful, because once we set fire to this, there's no putting it out. Do you understand?” he asks, huskily, making my throat dry.
He turns on the spot, eliminating the few steps needed to return to my bed, but he doesn't lower me down. If anything, he holds me tighter.
I reach for his face, curling my hand around his chin as I press my fingers into his cheeks. Leaning closer, my lips brush against his as I speak. “Yes.”