CHAPTER NINE #2
“Turns out trolls have damn near perfect memories. Probably why they hold grudges for so long.”
He shifted to park before cutting the engine and climbing out without another word.
Cadi shook off the unease that came from learning that every troll she’d ever encountered was apparently a walking Rolodex and made a mental note to watch what she said around them from now on.
She reached for the metal handle, only for her fingers to close around empty air as the door swung open and Elias stepped to the side, extending his hand in offering.
She stared at his open palm, hesitating for a moment before slipping her hand into his. Her stomach flipped as he guided her onto the sidewalk, something she told herself was just a lingering effect from her head injury.
When they reached the front door, Elias held out her keys and placed them in her hand with a quiet jingle. She was spinning them between her fingers, searching slowly for the one that would open the door to her building, when she felt him hesitate beside her.
“I don’t want to overstep,” he said, “and I can make other arrangements if you want, but … you really shouldn’t be alone after a blow like that.”
She knew he was right. The last thing she needed was to slip into a coma with no one around, but part of her still pushed back, driving her to retreat into her shell of solitude and self-sufficiency where the world couldn’t get to her.
Couldn’t disappoint her. She let a finger brush against the tender spot on her forehead, the pounding in her skull a reminder of the cost of putting her trust in the wrong people.
A cost that could have been much higher had it not been for Elias.
Two weeks ago, she hadn’t even known he existed, yet here he was, standing on her front step and showing her for the second time that he was someone she could rely on. She just prayed that the price for trusting him was something she was still able to give.
“You aren’t overstepping,” she said after a long pause. “You can stay.”
Moments later, Cadi pushed open her apartment door and felt along the wall for the switch.
Soft lighting filled the space, the familiar sights and smells of home quickly easing her strain.
Shuffling inside, she kicked her pumps in the general direction of the growing pile of discarded footwear spilling across her floor before tossing her keys into the ceramic bowl in the center of the dining table that stood to the right of the door.
She turned back to find Elias still standing at the threshold, his brows raised as he surveyed her apartment.
She winced as she watched him take in the piles of unfolded laundry overtaking the maroon sofa shoved against the wall next to the entrance, the hints of chaos just past her bedroom door in front of him, and the stacks of papers and books covering the dining table.
Glancing behind her, she noted that her kitchen actually wasn’t half bad. And in her defense, her place had looked a lot worse.
A win was a win.
She cleared her throat. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”
Elias’s eyes flicked to hers, quickly masking his shock with what she assumed was meant to be quiet appreciation.
“No it’s … cozy.”
It was painfully obvious that he was trying hard to spare her feelings, but Cadi couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth.
“We should get you cleaned up,” he said, gesturing to the cut at her eyebrow. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
Cadi nodded, tossing her thumb over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “Under the sink.”
He gave her a comforting look, then slipped quietly past her.
She crossed to the sofa and eased herself down onto the plush cushion, leaning her head against the high back.
A low sigh slipped past her lips, gentle relief echoing through her muscles as she finally began to let herself relax from the chaos of the last few hours.
Elias busied himself in the kitchen, sending a symphony of banging cabinets, running water, and clanking glassware into the living room.
Cadi’s eyes began to grow heavy as she waited, and she flinched when Elias suddenly appeared in front of her holding a large bowl of water, her red emergency kit, and a roll of paper towels.
He slowed his steps, watching her while he carefully placed the items on the coffee table, then shifted a stack of books out of the way before sitting to face her.
Wetting a towel and wringing the excess, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. “May I?”
Cadi hesitated, feeling herself begin to lean away.
But even the way he checked before moving forward loosened a small bit of the strain she had been holding since the club.
So she nodded, and shifted closer. His touch was gentle as he cleaned the dried blood from her face, lightly dabbing the damp cloth against her tender skin.
Still, despite his care, she hissed at the flash of pain that sparked when he pressed the towel to her cut.
His hand stilled, a brief flicker of what looked like distress shadowing his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
A quiet ache wedged itself between her ribs, and something whispered to her that his regret ran deeper than just this moment.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, hoping it was enough to reassure him.
He let out a quiet breath, and she caught the slightest dip in his shoulders before he leaned forward again.
He worked carefully, cleaning every flake of dried blood from her face before turning back to the kit and shuffling through the mess of bandages.
She watched him, studying the focused lines of his face as he selected the best dressing for her wound.
When she left for the evening, never in a million years would she have expected Elias Masterson of all people to be sitting in her living room, yet here he was, taking care of her with an unanticipated level of tenderness that made something in her throat feel like it was being crushed.
“Thank you,” she said.
Elias looked up, the soft brown of his eyes locking with hers and making the breath go still in her chest. She cleared her throat, pushing away the unusual reaction and telling herself it was just the adrenaline still working its way from her system. It had to be.
“Not just for this,” she continued, “for everything. Damon. My sigil …”
He held her stare, a gentle smile tipping the corners of his mouth.
Warmth filled the narrow space between them as he moved in close again to carefully place the small bandage against her brow.
She couldn’t stop herself from pulling in a deep, quiet breath, filling her lungs with the faint smell of pine drifting from him.
“How did you find it?” she blurted, needing something to fill the space and silence other than the intrusive thoughts about how good he smelled.
Elias shrugged, fiddling with the tabs of another small adhesive.
“I know a guy,” he said. His tone was casual, but a hint of mischief glinted in his eyes, and Cadi pressed her lips together, fighting hard against a smile.
“I have a friend who has a security contract with the transit system,” he explained, “he checked the tapes, and when we saw that you didn’t find what you were looking for, we did some digging. He told me which train you’d lost it on. Then I just waited.”
She stared at him for a moment as he struggled with another wrapper. That must have taken him all night. “You did all that just to find my necklace?”
He shrugged again, his eyes still fixed on his task. “It seemed like it was really weighing on you and I couldn’t let it go, even though I know you asked me to.” He looked at her, his eyes softly pleading. “I did wait to see if you would find it on your own. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
“No,” she said quickly, her hand reaching toward him briefly before she pulled it back, folding her fingers against her stomach. “I’m just not good at accepting help. Besides, I thought you hated the Order.”
He grinned. “I do hate the Order. But that doesn’t mean I have to hate you, Cadi.”
He spoke her name with disarming softness, the sound settling behind her ribs to blend with the gentle flutter that had chosen that moment to reappear. Her breath caught again, but this time, she knew it wasn’t the adrenaline.
“And when I saw what happened with Damon tonight,” he continued, his gaze dropping back to his hands, which Cadi saw had closed to fists. “Saw him follow you out of the club, I—there was no chance I was going to look away.”
Cadi’s throat felt thick, forcing her to swallow hard. If he hadn’t been there, hadn’t stepped in … the corners of her eyes began to burn again. She couldn’t think about that.
“I’m sorry to have put you in that position,” she whispered.
Elias looked at her, his expression serious. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cadi. Damon put me in that position. Not you.”
The firmness in his gaze had her locked in place, unsure of what to say in response to his assertion.
If she had just changed her top, stayed with the group, set firmer boundaries …
nothing would have changed. Damon would have still felt entitled to her body, still pushed his limits, still found a way to isolate her.
Maybe Elias was right, but that didn’t take away the pain or the fact that it happened.
“I get it now, why you hate them,” she said, her voice strained. “For a group that claims to revere dreams, this whole thing has turned into more of a nightmare.”
Before she could stop it, a single tear broke free, followed by another. Then another. For a moment, Elias said nothing, holding the silence for her until she was ready.