Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Q uinley remained quiet after her conversation with her ex. Elias had fixed them dinner and served them both a plate and then watched while she picked at her food, her expressions ranging from angry to sad to…looking so lost he felt himself getting angry on her behalf.
He tried to put himself in her shoes but wasn’t entirely able to because despite Rhys Lachlan’s arrogance, he still sympathized with the man because he’d been so publicly humiliated.
How did Quinley—how did anyone—do that to someone they cared for?
Yeah, she’d handled things badly. She’d caused a maelstrom of bad press and brought on all the negativity being shot her way via the media.
But death threats were a whole other level of messed up. One that had to be taken seriously. He might not like the fact that her fiancé’s goons had chased her down the street with the intent to drag her back into the building one way or another—and that had been their intent. But he also respected her ex for still being man enough to protect her after she’d left him high and dry. He could’ve washed his hands of the mess and tossed her to the wolves. But he hadn’t.
Not yet anyway.
Elias watched her from his position across from her and silently placed another puzzle piece into the border. She mostly fiddled with the pieces or stared blankly down at them, unseeing, but he supposed it was to be expected.
She had a lot going on in her life, and that head of hers had to be spinning with the good, bad and ugly of it.
He took a breath and picked up a new piece with blue along the edges.
“Dinner was delicious. Thank you.”
Her soft voice was sincere, even though she’d barely eaten a couple of bites before pushing her plate away and declaring herself full.
They’d started the puzzle after they’d put the leftovers in the fridge and cleaned up the kitchen, but she’d recently meandered back to the pantry where she’d dug into the bags of junk food he’d picked up at the gas station.
She didn’t really eat the chips she’d carried back to the couch with her as much as graze, but he hated that she did that to her already overstressed body. “The leftovers are easy to warm up if you’re hungry now. You didn’t eat much.”
Her full lips quirked up at the corners, and he found his gaze on them, lingering for a little too long.
“There you go, hatin’ on my food again.”
Her throaty voice sounded low and husky and sent a shot of pure awareness racing down his spine before he forced himself to get a grip. Off limits , he growled silently. “Your so-called food has no nutrients, and right now, with all the stress you’re under, your body needs them. You’re worn down, and you’ll be sick soon if you don’t watch it.”
She popped another chip into her mouth and crunched. Elias shook his head.
He’d admit that the chips smelled good. And watching her rebelliousness at eating them? That appealed, too.
“So you’re all fitness, all the time, are you? You don’t ever stop and…eat cake? Because you know, life is too short to not have cake.”
He smiled at her words, laughter rumbling out of him. “I do have cake. It’s kind of required when we get together once a month for birthdays in my family.”
Her head tilted as she thought over his words. “Wow, I hadn’t considered that. You guys have a lot of birthdays, don’t you?”
“Yes, we do. And with Brooks and Alec having kids, there are even more of us, so instead of individual birthdays, we combine them to fit everyone’s schedule these days.”
Some time had passed since dinner and the phone call with her ex. Which was why the crunch of gravel outside the cabin had Quinley sucking in a rough breath and looking at him in alarm. “You expecting someone?”
“Rhys said he had the address so…maybe it’s the guards? But what if it’s not them?”
A flash of fear flitted over her face, and his gut knotted at the sight. “Go to your bedroom and lock yourself in. Do it, Quinley,” he said as he stood and quickly moved to the old-fashioned hall tree by the door to retrieve the gun he’d stashed there for safekeeping.
She went to her room but peeked out the crack in the doorway. He glared at her. She shot him a dark frown but quietly shut the door, and the lock clicked. Her footsteps didn’t retreat.
A knock sounded on the cabin’s door, and Elias held the gun in his hand at the ready, looking out the nearby window.
“I have a delivery,” a man said from the other side of the door. “It’s expected.”
Elias recognized the guy as one of the guards who’d run down the street after Quinley yesterday. He was alone as far as Elias could tell.
But was he really? Was he there to drop off the items in his hands, or did he intend to try to take Quinley with him whether she wanted to go or not?
Elias unlocked the door, stepping back to let the guy lower the items inside because he wasn’t going to put the gun down, and he couldn’t accept the items the guard held without doing so.
He also didn’t want the camera at the door to pick up the exchange with him holding a weapon and shoot the video back to the cabin’s owner. “Just set them down. Thanks.”
The oversized guy glanced at the gun in Elias’s hand, then at the camera, seeming to understand the problem.
“May I come in? I was told to only release them over to the owner,” the man said pointedly.
The door behind Elias unlocked and opened, and he felt Quinley’s presence behind him.
The guard’s gaze immediately raked her from head to toe, and his expression softened, probably because she looked more than a little rough. Beautiful, but rough.
“You’re okay?”
“I’m fine, Axel. Thank you,” Quinley said. “Thanks for bringing my things to me.”
Elias watched as the guy’s gaze shifted from her to the gun he still held.
“I’d be happy to take you wherever you’d like to go,” Axel said. “Have you found a place?”
Was that offer hinting that maybe she wasn’t here by her own choosing? Or just a query to be taken at face value?
Elias stiffened. He’d never harmed a woman, and he’d certainly never held one at gun point.
“I’m fine . Truly. I haven’t decided my next step yet, but thank you anyway. I’ll let you know when something changes.”
“Ms. A—” the guy broke off with another glance at the doorway and camera. “May we speak privately?”
Elias shot a glance at Quinley and watched as her expression firmed.
“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Elias,” she said, lowering her voice to add, “No offense, Axel, but I’m not going to let you bully me into going with you.”
She didn’t step much beyond the bedroom door, and Elias was glad for it. No way could the guy get there before she could slam it shut and lock it again, not with him also in the way.
“Your safety is my only concern.”
“Thank you, Axel. I assure you I am fine. I’m here of my own choosing and perfectly safe. You’ve no need to worry.”
Axel’s jaw flexed with his frustration of not being able to convince her to go with him or at least talk with him privately. “The boss would prefer you have your own accommodations. Anywhere you want to go,” he added, “but your own.”
“So I’ve heard. But I haven’t decided, as I’ve said. Seeing as how I’m here, and it’s… quiet ,” she said pointedly, “I feel safe enough for now. Besides, it’s late, and so long as Elias doesn’t mind, I’ll stay another night and figure out the new arrangements tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he heard himself say, even though for his peace of mind and sanity, the sooner she left the better.
He didn’t like how protective he felt towards Quinley. How worried he was that she constantly ate junk food and how the circles under her eyes had gotten darker. The way she looked wearing his clothes because they hung on her to such a degree.
“You have my number. I’ll be outside,” Axel said, tilting his head toward the SUV parked beside the Gladiator. “Let me know what you decide, and I’ll drive you. Boss’s orders.”
“ Your boss needs to back off,” Quinley said softly, though her tone held an edge as she made her point.
“Until certain matters are handled, I don’t see that happening,” Axel stated without a blink of remorse.
Elias glanced at Quinley and watched as fury filled her face with hot color before she released a frustrated sound and slammed the bedroom door, locking it with a loud click.
Elias turned his attention back to the bodyguard, and the man sighed.
“I’ll be close.” Axel removed a business card and set it atop the closest flat surface he could reach from where he stood. “There’s my number. Save it so you’ve got it on hand, just in case you need it,” the man said, holding Elias’s gaze as if to emphasize the seriousness of the threats that had been made.
The man turned on his heel with familiar precision, leading Elias to think of Cole and his military training. The way both men carried themselves was…different. Methodical and precise.
Elias locked the door behind Axel and watched out the window until the man was back in a black SUV and heading down the driveway.
He hoped the guy parked a ways up, otherwise the high-end SUV lurking there along the road would stick out like a sore thumb, drawing attention for that fact alone.
As though hearing his thoughts, the brake lights appeared before the man put the vehicle in park, blocking the drive from anyone entering—or exiting without him knowing about it. “He’s gone, though it looks like he plans to stay the night.”
Quinley opened her door once again and stalked out, feet stomping as she returned to the couch and flopped down. “I know it’s probably for the best, but I hate this.”
He stored the gun safely back in its hiding spot before joining her. “Your ex is obviously concerned. I am too, to be honest.”
“I know,” she said with a soft sound of anger. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to the guards. Knowing Rhys, there are a half dozen out there now. I promise you Axel’s not alone. And thank you again for letting me stay. I should’ve asked earlier and not just blurted that out, but I appreciate another night. I’ll do some research in a bit and find another cabin or something.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and he liked that she still wore his sweatshirt and sweats despite the fact she now had a bag of clothes in her room.
The thought had no sooner hit than he felt his own temper rise because of it.
Quinley was not an option for him. Feeling any thing but sympathy for her wasn’t an option. She’d already proven herself untrustworthy in the way she’d handled ditching her groom on their wedding day, and the last thing he wanted was to find himself attracted to a woman who didn’t know the meaning of loyalty or…respect. Maybe that was harsh, seeing as how she’d done what was right for her, but realistically she could’ve handled it better. Should’ve handled it better and given the guy some notice before the day of the wedding.
Her life was in tatters, and her chaotic emotions weren’t something he’d ever want to navigate.
She snagged the bag of chips, shoved a handful in her mouth, and he bit back a comment. Perfect example. Instead he said, “It’s fine. The bedroom would’ve been empty otherwise.”
“Seriously, why are you hating on my food? I don’t need a food overlord right now!”
Her lower lip trembled with her upset, and as a picture, she looked…freaking adorable. Tousled, makeup-free, ready to fight to the death to defend those freaking chips. “Calm down,” he said, knowing full well that it would irk her even more and light a fire in her blood that would erase the fragility he witnessed. “Eat what you like. Just don’t get upset when your body hates you because of it. You’ll be sick by the end of the week.”
She crunched on a chip and glowered at him. “So is that why you do it? Is that why you’re all about nutrients ?”
He returned to his spot in front of the puzzle and got back to work. “It is, actually.” He blamed his own rise in temper for his honesty.
“Wait, what?” She stilled. “I was kidding. I mean, I know you own a gym, so I figured that was why you constantly pushed disgusting health food, but are you saying there’s more to it than being all muscly because of your business?”
He picked up the puzzle piece he’d had before and went back to his search. The topic wasn’t one he liked to dwell on, but he supposed he could share the bare-bones details on the off chance it might make her see what she was doing to herself. “It’s not just about the gym, though that is a valid point. I have food allergies, especially to processed foods like the one you’re inhaling. It took a lot of trial and error and years to figure out, but certain types of food make me sick.”
She paused in her munching and looked at him with a bit of wide-eyed panic.
“You’re not like EpiPen bad, are you? Did you buy me food you’re allergic to?”
He gave her another glance and noted that she looked horrified. Maybe the heartless runaway bride had a heart after all. “I’m not that bad yet, though with allergies there’s always the potential for them to worsen. Regardless, I can’t eat junk without paying for it physically. Achy joints, full-blown body pain, brain fog, inflammation, constant sickness, like a cold that won’t go away. Junk food makes me feel like crap, and I can’t function. And not functioning isn’t an option when you have businesses to run.”
She set the bag of chips aside and licked the salt from her lips. Not that he wanted to notice that.
“Have you always been this way? Did you do allergy tests or something?”
She broached territory he didn’t want to visit. Just the thought made him scowl. “I recently had some tests that confirmed everything I already knew based on my own experiments and experience. It was nice to have validation, though.”
She stared at him, a question in her suddenly aware gaze. “So you have always had allergies?”
And there was the crux of it. And all the memories that came with the truth. “Apparently. I was always sick as a kid. Finn and I were born prematurely and spent time in and out of the hospital after birth, and over the first few years,” he said carefully, placing the puzzle piece in his fingers and picking up another as he thought of that time. “Finn seemed to grow out of his issues, but I didn’t, and I missed a lot of school because I was down with one thing or another. The doctors blamed being premature.”
“That must have been hard for you,” she said softly. “I’m glad you figured it out. I always hated being sick as a kid. Stuck in my room so I didn’t contaminate the house. And God forbid if the housekeeper got sick because of me. One day off was enough according to my parents.”
He might have always been the sickly one in his family, but he’d never felt blamed nor had his parents allowed his siblings to mock him for something he couldn’t help.
There were always people around to care for him, watch television with him, especially his mom.
He shut down his thoughts before the memories became too much. His brothers called him emotionless. But after that day—after he’d broken —he’d learned to keep a part of himself held back.
The loss of his parents had impacted him more than the others in a lot of ways. He’d been left alone with his sickness, left to fend for himself in a house with too many needs.
Locking his emotions down was the only way he could go on existing without the people who’d loved him. As the always sick kid, his parents were his best friends because they were the ones caring for him, loving him, proving to him that no matter how ill he got or how bad he felt, they were there for him.
Until they weren’t.
“Tell me,” Quinley said softly. “Whatever you’re thinking… Tell me.”
He schooled his features and ignored the request. The memories had washed over him, though, taken him back to a time he hated because of how strongly it made him feel. How scared and vulnerable and helpless.
“Elias? What is it?”
He cleared his throat and shook his head to clear it, but the images kept coming, bombarding him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bull,” she said, the blunt word short and full of challenge as she sat forward. “Something’s going on in that thick head of yours, and it’s not good. I saw that expression. I thought— I thought after everything, we were friends?”
He lifted his chin but couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “It’s nothing, Quinley.”
Her nose wrinkled as if in distaste, and she stared at him without blinking. “You’ve seen me at my absolute worst. Rock freaking bottom ,” she stressed, “and you’ve been here for me when I needed a friend. What kind of person am I if I can’t be that kind of friend to you?”
She’d lost her snarky attitude and looked so sincere and heartfelt, so sweet and genuine and mama bearish, that he felt his walls crumble a bit. “You’ve got enough to deal with. I doubt you have room for my dysfunctions, too.”
Her expression narrowed even more, and despite the shadows beneath her eyes and the fact she looked nothing like the doll in a wedding dress he’d driven to the mountains—had it only been yesterday?—he felt the moment he gave over to her demand for more.
He took a breath and exhaled before leaning back in the chair where he sat. He held a puzzle piece in his hand, twisting it between his fingers. “What you said about being sick and the housekeeper…”
“What about it?
“It made me think of my mom. Of being home sick with her all those times, all those years.”
“She took care of you.”
“Always. No matter how sick I got, she was there. And they’re good memories until…she wasn’t there, and I was still sick.”
He noted the way her body softened.
“I’m so sorry , Elias. I can’t even imagine. That must have been so scary for you.”
His gaze shifted to the fireplace when the mechanism controlling the propane heat clicked before fire flamed to life, the glass shards gleaming inside of it. “She was my best friend. They both were, but my mom— She was the one who was there for me, twenty-four seven. But then she was gone, and there were too many kids in that house for me to need special care. Too many mouths to feed and clothes to wash and my aunt— God bless her, she did her best, but she wasn’t our mother.”
Aunt Rose had baby Isla to tend along with Hudson who hadn’t started school yet due to his age. Finn’s childhood speech issues had also reappeared with a vengeance after the accident due to the trauma, so to say there were others who needed Aunt Rose’s attention as much or more than he did, though he certainly did, was an understatement. “I couldn’t be that sick kid anymore. Everyone was super stressed because CPS was always hovering, checking in, and ready to split us up.”
“That’s terrifying.”
He wiped a hand over his face, trying to ease the tension and shake off the bad memories. “It was, but I was smart. And even though we couldn’t afford allergy testing, a kid at school had an episode with peanut butter. He wound up with an EpiPen, and for whatever reason, it dawned on me that if peanut butter could make him sick, maybe what I was eating was making me sick. So I started researching as best I could. And one of the first things the articles I found said to do was an elimination diet and fast. Basically take everything out of my system and let my body reset itself before adding food back in one at a time to see how I reacted. So that’s what I did.”
“That’s amazing,” she breathed. “And so smart. How old were you?”
“Thirteen. That was a rough time,” he said with a wry shake of his head. “Rough years . Like you, I had favorite junk food. Comfort food. Dishes my mom and aunt both made that I loved but… Turns out they were the problem. On top of losing my parents, I had to break addictions to foods I desperately wanted because they held memories—again, good ones—and teach myself how to eat so that my body didn’t attack itself.”
“And yet you bought me junk food,” she said, her hands pressed to her cheeks, her voice low and thick with emotion. “That must have made you crazed.”
He chuckled, unable to temper the sound and more than a little surprised at the same time. “It wasn’t my favorite moment; that’s for sure.”
“But you did it anyway to support my need to binge. That was sweet of you, Elias.”
“Sometimes we need what we need,” he said simply. “And you’d had a bad day.”
“I had,” she mused, then added, “Your mom—your parents—would be so proud of you. You know that right?”
He’d stared at the puzzle, unseeing and lost to the montage of images blasting through his mind, but at her words he looked at her.
She canted her head to one side as she regarded him.
“Why do you look so surprised? They would love that you did what you needed to do, not only to take care of yourself but also to look out for your family. You knew that being split up would be horrific for all of you, and you did your part to prevent it from happening. I know they’d be proud of you. I’m proud of you even though we’ve just met. That’s an amazing origin story.”
He didn’t realize how much such simple words could impact him. A surge of pride filled him, fueled his blood. Made him uncomfortable. “We do what we have to do. So did you,” he said, changing the subject off him and back onto her. “So what’s it going to be? What’s your next step? Any ideas yet?”
She lifted her feet to the edge of the cushion and wrapped her arms around her legs.
“Well, I need a hidey-hole and a home, so I guess those are the main goals. Otherwise I may be forced to stay here and then go home with you,” she said, as though doing so were threats.
His brain immediately searched for a solution—and found one. “I may be able to help you with one of those things.”
She stilled, looking almost afraid to hope. “For real?”
He rose and grabbed his phone from the kitchen island, shooting off a text message to his brother Dawson to inquire about the rental property Dawson owned next door to the home he shared with his wife, Sophia. Just as quickly Dawson responded.
It’ll be open and move-in ready the Monday after Easter. You have someone in mind? I’ve had several inquiries but the last app didn’t pass background checks.
Dawson went on to list the rent and other amenities which Elias read aloud to Quinley. Elias added the street and area where it was located.
“I’ll take it,” she said, without a hint of reservation.
“You’re sure? You haven’t even seen pictures of it.”
“It doesn’t matter. I need something fast, want to know my landlord isn’t a jerk or a creeper, and that works. I’ll take it.”
Elias relayed the message and promised his brother that his new renter was reliable.
This wouldn’t happen to be the woman all over the news? The one you took off with?
Is that a problem?
There was a brief lull in conversation before the three dots appeared.
Security could be an issue.
And with it being right next to Dawson’s own home, that would be a problem for him.
But it made Elias feel a little better to know his brother would be there at night in case there was trouble after her ex eventually pulled the guards.
She’s releasing a statement soon. Hopefully things will blow over by the time she moves in. All good?
Another lull. But then Dawson was an overthinker like himself, so it was expected.
Yeah. She can rent it. I’ll send the contract to your email for esig, and we’ll go from there.
You still coming to Easter dinner? Eat @ 3
Elias winced. Between his food issues and the unknown that awaited him when he got back, he wasn’t keen on making hard plans. Toss in the many questions he knew he’d face from his family and dread filled him.
Will do my best.
He left things at that and looked at Quinley, waving the phone in triumph. “One down.”