Chapter 16 #2
I’m still smiling as he presses three swift kisses to my cheek, and I start to laugh as he doubles down, gripping my chin to add a few more.
After the second or third, I find myself leaning into it, and across from me, Elsie’s eyes widen.
But she quickly covers it by occupying herself with collecting the deck.
“I know my girl,” Elliot boasts as he releases me. “I told you. Didn’t I tell you?”
He points at Owen for confirmation, but Owen only rolls his eyes and tosses down the rest of his cards.
“Ya’ll have to be cheating,” he grumbles. “That’s three in a row.”
Elliot shrugs, downing the rest of his tea.
It’s probably cold by now. He spent the last thirty minutes fixated on the cards in front of him. But he doesn’t seem to care.
“Not my fault you don’t know your girl’s tell,” Elliot counters. “How many times does she have to bite her nail before you catch on?”
Owen quiets, and Elsie’s power ignites, sending the cards flying, as her anger sparks.
I don’t think her irritation is for Elliot. I don’t even think it’s for Owen. But whoever it’s for, better steer clear.
She collects the cards with a snap of her finger and announces with a soft frown, “I think that’s enough for one night.”
No one argues as she rises from her seat to return the deck, but Owen, true to form, rises with her, following obediently. Elliot pays the tab before helping me into my jacket, and we wait patiently by the door for Elsie and Owen to come trailing back.
“Elsie and I can walk home,” I say as Elsie fusses with her coat.
She has a hard time getting the zipper all the way over her chest, but eventually she gives up, leaving it half zipped at the point just under her bust.
“No, I will take y—” Elliot begins to argue, but Elsie cuts in.
“Actually,” she says. “You two go ahead. We’re going to head back to Crescent House.”
“Seriously?”
The word escapes my mouth, and the accompanying look on my face must be unpleasant, because both Elsie and Elliot give me a pointed look.
“Oh,” I mutter, catching on quickly. “Okay. Sure.”
Elliot reels me in by the hand before, effectively silencing me, and I follow him blindly, though I still peek back at Elsie and Owen every few steps.
They’re standing close together now, his arms draped over her hips while she smiles softly, but I can’t help but gawk. After tonight, if there is one thing I’m certain of, it’s that Elsie Rosewater is not dating Owen McMahon.
“What the fuck was that?” I ask Elliot once we’re out of earshot.
“Hells if I know,” he says. “That’s your friend.”
“She’s your friend too,” I snap as if that means he must share some of the blame for her strange behavior.
He shakes his head, handing me the helmet once we reach the bike.
“Yeah, but that’s your best friend.”
I frown as I take it. It feels lighter than I remember, looks a bit smaller too.
“Is this new?” I ask.
“Yeah. I was hoping you’d stop whining about it if it fit better.”
“Hmmm.” I weigh the hollow plastic in my hands. “Probably not.”
Before he snatches the helmet back, I notice the word ‘princess’ is painted in hot pink across the back, and as he fits it on my head, I realize the inside is lined with satin.
Maybe I will stop whining after all.
“How come I’m the only one ever wearing one of these?” I ask.
“My life is not so precious,” he says, tightening the strap to his content.
He smiles when he finishes and pats my head before mounting the bike. But I don’t immediately follow.
“You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what?” he asks.
“Smile just to make me feel better.”
“I know,” he says, still smiling. “It’s just a habit.”
“You do that a lot?” I ask. “Lie to protect your friends?”
This time, the smile fades, but he doesn’t answer.
Not that I need him to. I already know.
Elliot doesn’t care about himself. If it were him who killed Grey that night, I doubt he would have gone through half the trouble of covering it up. Knowing him, he would have just sat down in the grass and waited patiently for the inquisition to come collect him.
I mount the bike in silence and distract myself from looking at the ground by counting my heartbeats. But thank goodness, the ride is short.
He parks on the rooftop as always, and I let him help me this time as I dismount.
“Thanks,” I mutter as he unbuckles my helmet and wedges it between the handlebars. “For everything. You were really good back there.”
He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“Nah, princess, you just make it easy.”
Easy? I don’t think anyone has ever described being with me as easy.
Elliot is grinning at me, staring actually. But I don’t mind as he reaches out to brush my braids over my shoulder and fiddle with the end of a single strand.
“Where’d you learn to play like that?” he asks, propping himself up against the bike.
“Oh. Um…my dad. He was a big cards guy.”
“Was?”
“Yeah. He…uh…he died.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
Elliot frowns, and I find myself praying he doesn’t ask the next question.
For some reason, every time you tell someone you have a dead dad, the next words out of their mouth are either “I’m sorry” or “What happened?” and Elliot only ever apologizes when he’s in the wrong, so I’d bet my money on—
“What happened?” he asks, interrupting my quiet spiral.
I sigh, and his back stiffens.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “Not if you don’t want to.”
That’s the problem, I do want to. Ever since that night at Treehorn’s, I’ve wanted to.
He deserves to know what kind of creature he’s dealing with.
“No,” I say, drawing in a deep breath. “It’s fine. I just…I haven’t said it out loud before.”
“Ever?”
I shake my head.
The only person who knows is Elsie, and that’s only because she was there when Isaac told me. I haven’t felt the need or the desire to speak of it since. But if I’m going to keep feeding from Elliot so regularly, he should know the risks.
So, before the swelling in my throat makes me change my mind, I say the words as fast as I can.
“My mom ate him.”
Elliot’s brows lift until they’re practically in his hairline, but realization dawns quickly, and he pushes away from the bike, reaching for me.
“Oh, Iris…” he says. “You thought that I…Fuck, that’s…”
Fucked up. Yeah.
He rests his hands on my hips as he shakes his head.
“Baby, you could never drain me. You’d pass out before you even got close.”
His sage, green eyes are darker as he looks at me, but they’re no less earnest than they’ve always been. He believes what he’s saying, but he wouldn’t be so confident if he’d seen what I’ve seen.
“Elliot, you don’t under—”
“No, I do,” he interjects. “I understand, perfectly. I know exactly how much you take. I can feel every drop, every time. And I know my limits. It takes five grown wolves just to bring me to my knees. You might be able to do the same with a single glance, but I promise you, it would take a lot more to put me down.”
My cheeks burn hot as he fixes me with a cool stare, and I’m grateful that my brown skin hides the flush on my face. Although knowing Elliot, he can probably smell the sweat pouring out of me.
“What if you’re wrong?” I ask. “What if I—”
“I’m not. And you won’t.”
There is a tone of finality in his voice, rendering the conversation over, but he doesn’t step away. Instead, he moves closer, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my head.
“You won’t,” he repeats, a little softer this time.
I let him hold me for a few seconds even though I think he’s wrong.
Elliot’s never been easily dissuaded, and whatever I say now will not change that. So I don’t say anything at all. I simply wait for the knot in my stomach to dissipate.
“I’d better get inside,” I say, pulling away.
But Elliot catches me by the wrists before I make it very far.
“Wait,” he says. “I…I talked to Tara.”
The knot returns.
“You what?” I blurt. “When?”
“Last night. When I got back, she was waiting for me.”
“What’d she say?”
Elliot cringes.
“Not much, but I don’t think she’s our problem.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, prying at his choker while he tells me of the images he’d seen on Tara’s phone, the demands sent along with them, and the look of pure terror in her eyes as she confronted him.
My heart sinks as he speaks, and the knot turns slowly to a gaping hole. One I’m almost positive is going to swallow me before this is over.
“I feel sick,” I mutter.
Elliot hangs his head, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Yeah, I had the same feeling.”
I look up at the sky in hopes of stifling the burning pain in my eyes and see the moon has already begun her slow retreat back into the dark, waxing as she looks down on us.
Sometimes, I wish I could do the same—disappear, I mean—but even if I could, I know I wouldn’t.
This is my fault. This is what happens when the monster runs free.
I don’t regret what I did to Grey. He earned his punishment. But the monster always leaves a trail behind.
Mother’s monster left Isaac and me. Mine has trapped Tara and Elliot in its orbit. And in moments like this, I can’t help but wonder if it was worth it. I know Elliot’s answer would be yes. But I doubt Tara would say the same.
“What am I supposed to do, Elliot?”
It seems I’ve lost my battle with my unshed tears as Elliot sweeps his thumbs over my cheeks.
“I will find him, Iris. I promise you.”
“How? There’s no scent trail. There’s nothing. And now he’s calling me.”
Elliot’s face hardens to stone.
“He’s what?”
I swipe furiously at my face, wishing I could shove the tears back in. It’s bad enough Elliot is picking up the pieces of this mess; he shouldn’t have to pick up my pieces, too.
“My phone,” I say. “It keeps ringing. Some unknown number. I haven’t answered but—”
“Good. Don’t. It’ll only give him a reason to keep calling.”
I nod, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“Baby, please don’t cry. You know I don’t like it when you cry.”
I don’t like it when I cry either. But I’m not sure I have a choice in the matter.
“Oh gods, Iris, please…” he pleads, stroking his hand down my back.
But tears keep coming, slow and steady, and Elliot turns from me, rummaging through the saddle bag on the side of the bike.
“Here,” he says, offering me a small package wrapped in brown paper. “I was going to give you this tomorrow, but I really need you to stop crying.”
“What?”
His eyes roll.
“Stop saying that and just take it.”
He waves the package at me impatiently.
It’s small and rectangular, a bit bigger than his hand, but the moment I weigh it in mine, I know exactly what it is.
“A book?” I ask, already tearing through the paper.
“Yeah.” Elliot shrugs. “I just figured you’d be starving for a good book. You know, since Kitty’s recommendations can’t be trusted?”
He chuckles, but as I look at him, the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and I quickly decide that when we find our new “friend,” I’m going to tear his eyes out for taking that smile from him.
The book is small and green. Leather-bound, with no title on the front. Only a delicately embossed image of a woman’s figure.
“No title?” I ask.
Elliot shakes his head.
“Nope.”
“And what makes you think I’m going to like it?” I ask, flipping through the first few pages.
A small smirk inches its way across his face.
“You will…”
I smile, tears forgotten, and Elliot returns the gesture, eyes crinkling as his tail starts to wag.
“Yeah, but what if I don’t?” I say, teasing.
“How about if you don’t like it, I’ll let you walk me around on a leash for a day.”
My interest is piqued.
“Seriously?”
Elliot laughs, shaking his head.
“You’re going to like it.”