CHAPTER 27 ELODIE
ELODIE
Alfie’s mum is simply beautiful. He takes most of his features from her: the blue eyes, the square jaw, the nose with a slight bump on the bridge.
She’s quite tall too, a couple inches taller than me, with a slightly broader frame than petite.
Her golden hair matches Alfie’s. Her smile is just as bright as his as they saunter into the kitchen together.
It’s clear to me now that the Blackwood genes are the huge, bulky ones.
Poor Caden obviously inherited his mother’s build. She must have been a slight woman.
They’re caught up in conversation, Alfie hounding her with a million questions of how she’s feeling, what she’s been doing, has Higgins been checking in.
I can tell she’s related to Russell. It’s in the confident way she squares her shoulders, speaks with a fluid grace that only comes from a lofty education and being around high-calibre people one’s whole life.
They may share physical features, but it’s also obvious they were raised in the same strict way.
Despite being Russell’s sister, Debbie radiates a genuine kindness, not one I feel is tactful or deceiving. It immediately puts me at ease.
I stand there on the other side of her long kitchen island, which is bright white marble, faintly listening, but mostly just admiring Alfie with his mother. They have a good relationship, that much is obvious, he loves her dearly. And she him.
It makes my chest hurt a little.
The kitchen is bathed in sunlight from the glass French doors running the length of the back wall, all appliances white and gleaming. Such brightness in comparison to the black cave I currently live in.
Alfie helps her prepare the meal, bringing over all the plates to the dining table across the house. He sits next to me with his mum at the head on his other side.
“So, tell me, Elodie,” Debbie says, forking some lettuce leaves. “Has my family converted you to their evil and sinister ways yet?”
“Mum,” Alfie says.
I giggle. “Not just yet, but they’re wearing me down.”
Debbie’s lips purse. “Could never stand it. Hated what my brother did. I’m so glad I was born a woman in the family. I would never partake in what Russell does.”
“Alright, let’s not go down this dark road and scare El.”
“Why not? If this poor girl is forced to join our travesty of a family, she deserves to know what she’s being forced into.”
“I already know,” I say quickly, “I’d heard of the Blackwoods long before I was introduced to them.”
She gives me a sad look, then reaches over and cups Alfie’s cheek. “This boy had enough on his plate before my brother corrupted him even more.”
“Mum.”
A deep sorrow glazes over her blue eyes as she stares at her son. “I wish I’d done things differently. Wish I’d left before it was too late. Before he warped my son.”
Alfie drops his fork and pinches his nose.
“Mum, please. No one corrupted me. I was born that way and you know it.” He fixes her with a glare I’ve never seen on him before.
“Let’s not bombard El with all the bullshit of the past. I brought her here to have a nice lunch.
” He turns to me. “Don’t listen to her. She’s always been dramatic. ”
She shakes her head slightly. “I can’t change the past, but the future can always be changed,” her tone switches back to cheerful, “hopefully you can keep him in check, Elodie, keep his future bright. And keep him from going off the rails again.” She beams at me.
Again?
I look at Alfie, who avoids meeting my gaze, shoving a mouthful of chicken into his mouth.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Debbie,” I say, letting curiosity get the better of me. It’s not my place to pry, but maybe there are certain things I need to know about the men I’m forced to live with.
“And you don’t need to,” Alfie interjects, shooting his mother a warning glare. “Mum blames herself if I get a paper cut. Always says she could have prevented it. Mum guilt runs deep with this one.” He jerks his head toward her.
I look at Debbie and still see the rueful look there. But she doesn’t push on.
“These boys need a strong woman in their lives, Elodie,” Debbie says, “one who can take their bullshit and give it back tenfold if need be. They need someone to keep them in line.”
Alfie chuckles. “Then El’s the perfect candidate for that. She doesn’t stand for any of Caden’s shit.”
Debbie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Now that is delightful. I couldn’t name one girl that would say the same.”
I shrug a shoulder. “He doesn’t scare me.”
Debbie gives me a proud smile. “Oh, you’re definitely a keeper.”
I hope the fuck not.
***
The afternoon passes quickly after lunch.
Debbie’s so easy to talk to and I can tell how at ease Alfie is around her.
It becomes clear just how tense he really is at home, how he walks around with stiff shoulders and divots between the eyes that are now gone.
Or always shaking one limb or another. Flitting about like his mind’s racing with thoughts that have him changing directions every ten seconds. But here, he’s relaxed, calm. At home.
My heart aches for him. How much duress he’s constantly under in this family when he’s not at home with his mother. How much pressure he must feel to always be on guard, always alert, always ready for something.
Right here, he looks like any normal guy, just spending the afternoon with his mum in the wonderful garden, and not someone who’s part of an evil underworld that gnaws at your soul until there’s nothing left.
Alfie is so different.
Okay, I’m highly attracted to him.
And he must be to me, right? He brought me here to meet his mother. There must be something in that.
I’m draped in infatuation by him. Engulfed in attraction and desire.
I really fucking like Alfie. I’m not dumb enough to believe there’s not a mean streak in him, he’s a Blackwood, first of all, and second, he’s gone “off the rails” before, that’s enough to know that there’s a beast inside him somewhere, but as long as I don’t see it, why should I care?
It’s hard to fathom he could be anything but what he is to me, especially as we sit here around the garden table and he brings his hand to rest on my knee as he continues speaking to his mum. Debbie looks down at his hand and then back up at me, a genuine smile creeping across her lips. I blush.
I’m not meant to be Alfie’s. I’m meant for his cousin.
But right now, I want to bask in this moment.
I want to pretend that I am not a prisoner, I’m not destined for a life of hell.
I’m with Alfie and I’m his girl and we’re visiting his mother for the hundredth time.
Our dog is running around merrily on the long stretch of grass in front of us and everything is wonderful.
When Alfie says it’s time to get going soon, I offer to help him take in the mugs and glasses we’ve sipped on through the day. He accepts my offer, and we stride back into the house while I see Debbie sneak back to the flower bed and start pulling up the weeds again.
Smiling brightly to myself, the sensation foreign to the muscles in my face, I follow Alfie to the kitchen.
He goes about putting all the dishes in the dishwasher and I’m so overcome with adoration and lust and whatever else is making me feel light and fluffy that I go over to him and place a hand on his thick tattooed arm.
He freezes at the contact, half bent over the dishwasher.
“This has been the best day I’ve had in a very long time,” I say quietly.
Alfie peers up at me, then straightens, a seriousness on his face. “Me too.”
Good. This is a good sign. Maybe I’m not deluded, maybe he feels what I’m feeling.
We’re staring at each other now, something heavy and light all at once passing between us.
His eyes don’t leave mine as his fingers come up and graze under my jaw, sliding around to behind my ear, and my breath hitches.
I’m lost so deep in the blue of his eyes I’m drowning in the Pacific with no lifeboat.
I’ll never see land again and I don’t care because I’m sinking so far into this moment and it’s wrapping its warm arms around me and the rough pad of his thumb brushes my bottom lip and I might just sink to the murky depths of bliss.
I dare to slip my tongue past my teeth, lick the tip of his thumb, and his breath snags too.
I don’t know what gives me the bravery – the audacity – but I’m suddenly struck dumb by his touch, by the hunger so blatant in his eyes.
He does want me. And I want him. He brought me to meet his mother, for crying out loud.
I push my luck. I reach my hand out blindly, not daring to break this gaze that has seeped itself into my bones and set my heart on fire. I hit my target.
My fingers brush against something hard, something strained against his trousers. His eyes grow wide, a small groan escapes him.
“El,” he breathes, and it’s like a sedative on his lips straight onto mine.
He’s so close, so close I can taste him. The zing of hot sauce from his chicken and the even hotter burn of his arousal.
I stroke my hand down farther, getting a better insight to just how long he is.
His fingers curl slightly, pushing firmer against the skin around my jaw and neck.
He can definitely feel my raging pulse beneath his fingertips.
I’m about to crumple into a pile of butterflies and burning, steaming lava.
“Kiss me,” I breathe, almost a whisper. “Please.”
I haven’t been kissed in so long. It’s been even longer since it was a kiss I wanted. And I want it from Alfie more than I want to keep breathing right now.
It’s like I’ve electrocuted him. He jumps away from me, my eyes left hollow and staring at a blank spot in the air, yanking me out of the ocean and leaving me free-falling from space instead.
“I’m – I’m sorry,” I stutter, humiliation burning every inch of my skin.
“You can’t do that, El.”
I blink several times and find Alfie leaning on the sink a million miles away, the bridge of his nose pinched by his thumb and forefinger. The fingers that were on my skin just a moment ago. Fingers that were igniting my body and breathing life back into my dead, deprived soul.
“I’m sorry, I read it wrong.” My voice trembles. Maybe if I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, I’ll be in another life when I open them.
“You didn’t read it wrong at all.” His breathless voice makes my eyes spring open. He doesn’t turn to me but looks up at the wall in front of him. “But you can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“You can’t entice me like that.” He whirls around, irritation and something raw and impatient burning in those eyes that were just so soft and sweet a moment ago. “I can’t fuck you. Kiss you. Touch you like that.”
My defences shoot up. “You touched me like that first.” I still feel the phantom pressure of his fingertips around my neck, below my ear.
His eyebrows slant. “I know but – I just – I can’t.”
I fold my arms, the rejection shooting a rod straight up my spine. “Why, because Master Caden said so?”
Those eyebrows flatten, eyes hardening. “Because I have respect for him. Make sure you’re not forgetting that you are with us to marry him, to become the lady of the family. Not mine, certainly not Fiz’s. His.”
“Why did you bring me here then, if you don’t want me? You introduced me to your mother.”
He rubs his forehead, seeming already bored and fed up with me. “Because I arranged to see her today and you’re my responsibility still. I wouldn’t cancel on her, and I wouldn’t risk leaving you alone.”
My heart splits in two. “That’s all?”
He blows out an agitated sigh. “Yes, that’s all, Elodie” – my full name – “stop taking my kindness for an invitation.” Something frosty sets over his face, and I want to recoil away from it.
“You’re hot, but…” He pauses, considers.
“I won’t betray my morals for you. You’re not going to come between us. ”
My jaw falls open. “You think that’s what I’m trying to do?” By the look on his face, it is. “You started it!”
He lifts his chin, fills his chest with impenetrable air.
“Now I’m ending it. Caden’s not the only one with trust issues.
I may like you, El, we may get on well, but make no mistake in believing I’m na?ve, malleable or just outright stupid.
I still don’t know you. I don’t know fully what your intentions are. ”
I’m suddenly repulsed by getting so close to him.
How can he not feel this chemistry between us?
There’s no way that fire is only felt by me.
Only burning my body alive. Or maybe I am delusional.
When it comes to Alfie, I think I’m pretty desperate for any ounce of affection, and he makes it clearer every time it’s not going to happen.
That he’s not interested. And my broken, battered heart just can’t take any more.
My arms hug my body tighter, going from my stance of defiance to shrinking smaller and smaller until I’m the size of a speck of dust in the room. I look down at the floor. “I want to go back now. Please.”
He makes a sound that tells me he’s about to protest, then changes his mind. “Go wait in the car.”
He doesn’t dare give me the keys. He unlocks it and disappears back inside once I’ve climbed into the passenger seat, locking me in.
How could I be so stupid? This has nothing to do with Caden.
Alright, so there’s a little, teeny tiny part of me that would find it entertaining to watch him learn that I’d hooked up with Alfie instead of him, but the rest of me truly feels something there.
He’s nice. He’s so, so nice it’s impossible to believe he’s related to that animal.
Unfathomable to think he has a bad bone in his body.
It’s just not possible. That turn in attitude just then was purely because of Caden.
It’s not what he truly wants. He can be good to me; we can be good together.
My stomach flips and twists and knots itself up into a bunch. We can’t be together. I’m not even staying here a second longer than I have to. I find resolve in the reminder. I won’t let stupid, pointless feelings get involved now.