Chapter Twenty-Four - Joshua
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Joshua
“I won’t forget what you’ve done, and I swear I’ll get you back for it.”
The line goes dead.
Ryder and I stand in stunned silence, both of us trying to process what the hell just happened.
Gabriel Consoli just told me to kill his only daughter.
My anger rises like billowing black smoke, filling my lungs and savagely choking me.
I squeeze the phone until it snaps in my fist, then throw it against the wall, leaving a hole in its place.
“Do you think it’s a scheme?”
I shake my head and take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm me. “I think Consoli cares more about his power than his daughter.”
“What does this mean for us?”
“You think I have a damn clue what this means for us?” I snap.
Ryder is unfazed. “You never told her, did you?”
I know without any more context what he’s referring to—my decision to give her back to her father for the territories after all and pull Mason from the field to work here.
“No, I didn’t. But I can’t tell her now. I need to figure out what my plan is.”
“What options do we even have?”
I let out a sharp breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know, which is why she can’t know anything yet. It’ll only make things worse.”
“I agree that you can’t tell her before you have a plan, but the longer you wait, the worse it’ll be for her.”
“I need to talk to her.”
“No.”
My teeth grind painfully. “Excuse me?”
He meets my glare head-on. “I told her I’d keep you away for as long as she needs. She isn’t ready to see you. Besides, what could you possibly have to tell her?”
“You told her we’d be reaching out to her father, right?”
Ryder nods.
“Then I’m going to buy us some time and tell her the terms are being renegotiated.”
“If that’s all you have to say, then I’d be happy to deliver the message.”
My fists curl into tight balls, just begging to connect with Ryder’s jaw.
Though I spend most of my time with Ryder, we never talk about Elise aside from his assurances that she’s okay. I’ve dutifully stayed away, giving her space no matter how much I hate it.
But that self-control was just stolen by her father.
“I’m going to see her.”
“No, you’re not.”
I take two steps toward him. “I’d advise you to refrain from telling me no. I’m not asking permission. I’m telling you what I’m going to do.”
After a long, deep breath, I know Ryder won’t fight me on this.
“Fine, but I’ll be upstairs, too. If she calls for me, I’m coming in.”
I head for the door without another word. The idea of talking to Elise makes my heart race, but I suppress the excitement. I can’t let myself expect anything more than her hatred.
When I reach her door, I bring my ear to the wood, but there’s no sound on the other side. I knock lightly and listen for movement.
“Elise, it’s me. We need to talk.”
I don’t expect a response, so I’m unsurprised when she doesn’t give me one. My hand lifts to knock again, but I freeze when the handle twists from the other side.
I suck in a sharp breath when the door swings open, and I’m staring into the wide, brown eyes that I’ve missed so much.
She looks beautiful.
The bruise that covered her cheeks only days ago has disappeared, restored to its natural, flawless beauty. The waves of her messy blonde hair spill over her squared shoulders, resting on the new button-up that I forced Ryder to buy for her.
I nearly lost it when I saw her wearing his shirt last night. If Elise is going to wear a man’s clothes, they’re going to be mine. I hadn’t noticed I’d been glaring at the piece of clothing until she cowered away from me.
She doesn’t cower now.
In fact, she doesn’t show any emotion whatsoever.
“Just do it. Get it over with.”
“Do what?” I ask, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and wondering how she’s been sleeping these last few days.
“Just kill me,” she whispers.
The same broken sob that haunts my sleep resonates in my head.
I hate you, Joshua! Just kill me already and get it over with! Haven’t you tortured me enough?
I’d hoped space would help assuage her anger and misery, but I can see now that it wasn’t enough.
“Why would I do that?”
I expect her to snap at me with some smart comment or slam the door in my face.
I do not expect her to breathe out a laugh.
Turning away from me, Elise takes measured steps until she’s overlooking the stretch of trees surrounding the house.
“My own father told you to,” she mutters. “I’m nothing more than a weakness to him.”
My blood runs cold with the realization.
“You heard the phone call.”
“Just do it. I’m tired of fighting.”
I close the door behind me and slowly step until I’m only a few feet away from her. It shouldn’t please me so much that her entire body doesn’t tense at my presence like it has since the attack.
I didn’t come here prepared to have this conversation, but I also hadn’t expected her to hear the phone call, so my original plan is out the window. I sort through my options, but there’s really only one way to handle this situation.
The truth.
“I’m not going to kill you.”
Her head snaps in my direction. “You’re letting me go?”
The hope in her tone is unmistakable, and I loathe that I’m about to hurt her once again by squashing it.
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
When I don’t answer, she comes to her own conclusions.
Hope turns to confusion, which turns to horror.
Elise takes small steps back, frantically shaking her head. “You can’t just keep me here.”
“Calm down, Elise. I—” I take a deep breath to calm myself. Getting frustrated isn’t going to help anything. “I can’t let you go home, but I’m not going to kill you, either.”
The words do nothing to reassure her, and I watch helplessly as her chest rises and falls with panicked breaths.
My efforts to comfort her are only making things worse, so I try another strategy. I lower my chin and fix her with a stern look. “Calm. Down.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Elise points to the door. “Get. Out.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I—”
“Ryder!”
Damn it all.
“You do realize he works for me, right?” I remind her.
My oldest friend bursts into the room, and my hand briefly twitches for my gun when he steps protectively in front of Elise, blocking her from my view.
“Get out, Ryder.”
“Mr. Moreno, I don’t think this is the way to fix things—”
“You’re right,” I snap. “This isn’t the way. The ‘way’ is to sit and have a civilized conversation, but someone”—my icy eyes find hers— “won’t calm down, so here we are. It’s been days, Elise. I deserve the chance to talk to you.”
My words seem to snap Elise out of her panic, and she steps out from behind Ryder.
“You deserve the chance to talk to me?” She laughs, but the sound is chilling.
Her hands go to the buttons of her shirt, and she begins undoing them.
Turning her back toward us, Elise lowers the fabric of her shirt, uncovering the extent of the damage done to her once unblemished skin.
Thick bandages cover almost every inch of her back. Bright red peeks out from beneath some of the gauze and the skin is scabbed over as it heals in jagged lines.
Elise’s hoarse voice cuts through my thoughts. “Don’t you dare, for a single second, think that I owe you anything. You have taken everything from me: my freedom, my family, my dignity.”
She pulls the shirt back up and buttons it as she adds, “You’re not my savior just because you’ve decided not to kill me. In fact, keeping me alive is so much worse. Death is better than any life you could offer me.”
The words hang heavy around us.
I’m here.
I’m here and fighting for her, which is more than her father can say, yet she despises me. Even when everyone else has turned their back on her, she refuses to accept that I may actually be able to care for her.
“You’d rather just die, then?”
The answering silence drives me over the edge.
In one quick motion, my gun is secured in my hand and pointed directly at Elise’s head.
“Woah!” Elise and I mutually ignore Ryder’s exclamation, our eyes never leaving one another’s.
She lifts a hand to halt Ryder’s advance to protect her with his weapon. He freezes in his place, but his hand hovers over his gun, ready to spring at any moment.
As if he’d ever shoot me.
However, I hardly notice Ryder’s movement when Elise’s stoic expression registers. She doesn’t so much as flinch or cringe away from the weapon in her face.
My eyes bore into hers, and a ball of dread settles in the pit of my stomach when I process the emotion there.
Peace.
With a long stride, Elise presses her forehead to the barrel of my gun. A deep breath relaxes her shoulders, and her eyes shut as she waits for me to pull the trigger that will end her life.
Elise genuinely believes that dying now is better than staying with me.
My dread is now all-consuming nausea, and I can’t stand it.
I take her wrist and place the weapon in her hand.
Wide, enchanting eyes look up at mine, full of questions that I answer before she gets the chance to ask.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I mutter, furious at myself for needing to assure her of this again. “If it makes you feel better, you can hold the gun the whole time, but we are going to talk. Deal?”
There’s only a moment of deliberation before she strengthens her hold on the gun and points it at my chest.
“What makes you think I won’t kill you right now and get away?”
The thought of Elise killing anyone is laughable, but I humor her.
“I have a hunch.”
“Care to share?” Her eyes flit from me to the gun, and the corner of her lip twitches.
She flips the safety off in one fluid motion and cocks the gun in another.
Well, damn it.
“I think you want answers more than you want me dead.”
“I think you underestimate me.”
“I think you’re right,” I admit with a small smile. “Now, Ryder is going to leave, and we’re going to talk. You can keep the gun, but I’m not waiting any longer.”
Her jaw ticks, but she must realize I’m not letting this go because she lets out a huff. “Ryder stays within calling distance.”