3. - – Elias
CHAPTER THREE
-
ELIAS
A week had passed since I woke in the hospital and they were still holding me hostage. Nurse Clara had been wonderful, though. She sat by my side, even after her already long shifts had ended. I could see the looks the rest of the staff gave her, and I knew what they thought of me.
I wished I could remember everything, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.
My short-term memory was still pretty fuzzy, but my long-term memory was no good to anyone.
Clara said she was going to bring in her laptop today so we could scroll through my social media and see if that triggered a memory..
She had also expressed that there was something she needed to tell me, but had been struggling to find the words.
I hoped I wasn’t about to lose her, too.
Detective Hill had come back a few times with more questions.
I suspected he was more pissed that they didn’t have enough evidence to have me arrested in the hospital than anything else.
I got to stay in my room and didn’t have to worry about having an officer outside my door.
Like I’m leaving this place anytime soon, anyway.
Peering out the cracked blinds, I noticed Clara shuffling around the nurses’ station.
Whoever had the wise idea to put windows looking out into the hallway…
Thank you. I worried about Lydia, but the longer I was in here, the closer Clara and I had become.
Probably too close. The way her eyes would meet mine and she’d bite her lip.
Her touch… My heart skipped a beat. She felt familiar.
Like home. It left me feeling guilty because I wanted more.
She seemed so young, though, I’d be crazy to think she’d be interested in someone almost twice her age.
I looked away quickly when I caught her gaze lingering in my room. Her lips formed a quick smile and then she grabbed what appeared to be her laptop and headed in my direction. “Hey Elias, how are you feeling today?”
“I feel like I’m being watched by someone who hasn't decided if I'm the protagonist or the victim yet.” I smiled, admiring her giggle.
“Oh stop.” She playfully placed her hand on my arm. “You know better.”
My good shoulder managed to shrug. “Honestly, at this point, I’m not sure which part I’m playing.”
She sat there silently for a moment before snapping back to reality. “I brought my laptop like I said I would.”
I nodded but something still felt off as she placed it on my lap. Instinctively, I grabbed her hand. “Clara, something seems different today. Are you okay?”
She pressed her lips together and, for the first time, I noticed a sadness in her eyes. “Before I show you some of the things I’ve found, I need you to know something.” She paused.
Concerned, I quickly agreed, afraid of what she was about to say.
Clara cleared her throat. “I found Lydia.”
My heart sank. Guilt swirled through my feelings, unsure if my reaction had to do with the information she was clearly nervous about sharing, or the possibility we'd no longer be spending time together. “And?” I braced for her response.
“I found an article indicating she died four years ago.” Clara’s voice was somber.
Then the weight of it hit me as the memories began flooding back. “She was murdered.” My eyes remained locked on the harsh light of the display. “I was blamed. Just like I’m being blamed now.” The words fell from my lips, cold and heavy.
Clara squeezed my hand, a small, grounding pressure and nodded.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded sincere. I didn’t know what to feel.
I should have been grieving my daughter, but if she really died four years ago like Clara claimed, then I’d already done my time.
I’d mourned the loss of Lydia once; I didn’t have it in me to do it again.
The display finally popped up in slow-motion and there it was, the article describing Lydia’s fate.
The fact they didn’t have enough evidence to convict me and eventually the entire case fell cold.
I scrolled through my social media while Clara continued to work and things began to slowly return to me.
Once I was finished, I turned off the screen and placed the laptop on the chair where Clara typically sat and waited for her return.
“Is everything okay?” Clara bounced into the room, her shift finally over.
As she approached, those new feelings stirred again.
It’s only been a week, Elias, I reminded myself.
I suddenly remembered mocking my best friend years ago for falling just as hard after knowing his now-wife for only a few days.
My memories were starting to return on their own, that had to be a good sign.
Clara was smart… as painful as it was to revisit the things I’d posted online, she had known it was a necessary part of the healing process.
I nodded slowly. “It will be.” I reached up and took her hand. “I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me this week. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I appreciate it.” I smiled as her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. “I wish I could snap my fingers and have all the answers to everything.”
She sat on the bed next to me and new feelings began to arise. I tried to object. “Clara, you can’t-”
But she didn’t listen. The air between us vanished, leaving only the intoxicating heat radiating from her skin.
As she turned, she didn't just take my hand - she guided it, pressing my palm flat against the steady, frantic thrum of her heart. Her voice dropped to a decadent whisper. “As soon as you’re free, Elias, I’m going to take care of you in ways you’ve forgotten existed. ”
Her breath was a warm caress which sent a heavy, insistent ache straight to my groin.
The air in the room seemed to thin as her gaze dropped, catching the undeniable proof of what she was doing to me.
She looked back up, and for a second, we both knew.
If the law didn’t find a way to pin these new murders on me, murders I didn’t even know if I had committed, there would be absolutely nothing stopping me from destroying her.