21. Ellie

Ellie

H umming as I worked, feeling a contentment I hadn't truly felt since before Colton started sleeping with Lindy, my thoughts wandered to Grey. He hadn't called me, but I knew he would. Unlike his son, he kept his promises.

The day waned toward afternoon, the hours flying by as I researched and wrote articles for my client to post on his website and blog. Dusk darkened my windows, forcing me to turn lights on. As I did, I quickly regretted not asking Grey to come back after his practice ended.

I got more done than I thought I would. I can take an evening off to sit with him and watch TV.

Thinking I'd call him soon and ask him to come over, I sent the article to my client. I leaned back in my office chair, stroking my stomach under my sweater. In a few months, I'll have swelled like a beached whale. In seven, I'll deliver a baby. A mini-Grey.

I smiled to myself as I pondered my future with Grey. A mother, maybe a wife by then. I imagined both of us ecstatically happy, Grey retired from the team, maybe taking a job as a hockey coach. Or maybe becoming a stay-at-home dad.

A quick knock came at my door.

"You came back," I said as I bounced up from my chair. "You read my mind."

Smiling happily, I crossed my apartment to the front door. I didn't bother peeking through the fish-eye lens to view my visitor, for of course Grey had returned after his practice.

I unlocked the door and swung it wide. "I'm so glad you came back―"

Colton stared down his nose at me. "You were expecting someone?"

My happiness instantly morphed into annoyance. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you."

He pushed his way past me, striding in as though he still lived there. The sharp cold sweeping in after him forced me to close the door behind him, though I wanted to leave it open until I kicked him out.

"Get out," I snapped. "You aren't welcome here."

He gazed around as though he had every right to invade my home. "Who are you seeing?"

"None of your business."

"I'm making it my business." Colton swung toward me, his coat opening to reveal his workday business suit and loose tie. "You're my girl."

"Oh, please."

"I mean it, Ellie. I still love you. If you weren't so stubborn, you'd see it. But you won't return my calls."

"Because I don't want to talk to you, stupid. Now get out of my house."

"No." He paced toward me, his blue eyes snapping. "I want to know who you're fucking."

Defiant, I stared up and into his fury. "Do I need to call the cops?"

"You won't."

"And why wouldn't I?"

He set his teeth, baring them in a nasty grimace. "Because I won't let you."

A tremor of fear wormed its way into my belly. "Just try to stop me."

As I'd left my phone next to my computer, I whirled and stomped toward it. Colton's hand gripped my upper arm, yanking me around and back to him. His nails dragged through my sweater and into my flesh as I yanked my arm loose.

"Don't touch me!" I cried.

"Don't call the police." Colton's fierce expression collapsed. "Please, Ellie, give me a break. I really do want to talk. I need to know why you can't love me again."

"I thought that was obvious."

I folded my arms over my breasts to hide my shaking hands. Colton had never been violent with me. Ever. But something had changed. I sensed a mean streak in him that hadn't been there before. As though his previous good nature had vanished under a specter that looked and spoke like Colton.

"I know I did wrong," he admitted. "I'm truly, truly sorry I hurt you. It'll never happen again, I swear it."

"Why are you so obsessed with me?" I asked, nervous, but honestly curious. "I can't be the only girl you'd be interested in. Or who might love you the way you want."

He ran his hands through his blond hair. "You're the only girl I want, Ellie. Sure, I've dated a few since we split. None of those girls compared to you. Not in the way I feel."

"I'm sorry about that," I said. "Colton, we can't go back to what we were. You have to move on."

"Meaning you have? Moved on, that is?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Who is it?" Colton asked, his voice tightening. "Who are you cheating on me with?"

I laughed. "Now that's funny. You accuse me of cheating when you fucked Lindy behind my back."

"That's different."

"Oh yeah? How?"

For a moment, he looked mulish, as though he had zero intentions of answering me. "It's natural for dudes to play around. Especially before marriage."

"Really? Why is that? Why is it okay for a guy to cheat, but it's not okay for a girl to move on?"

"Look," he went on, impatient, "it won't happen again. I've learned my lesson. I promise."

"Good. Then maybe you'll make the next chick a happy camper."

"Come on, Ellie," he snapped. "I'm begging here."

"You're not on your knees," I observed.

"You want me to kneel? Here. I'm kneeling, begging you to come back. To marry me."

He did it. He actually lowered himself to his knees, looking up at me with a weird expression, one I couldn't quite read. It appeared to be a mixture of sullen anger, humiliation, and defiance. Not exactly a recipe to make me enfold my arms around him and swear to adore him.

"Nope," I said. "Not working. Time for you to leave now. Goodbye."

Colton stood, his sullen anger exploding into rage. "You bitch."

"And you're a prick," I replied. "A stupid asshole who thinks he can get away with anything. All he has to do is smile and look pretty and I'll fall at his feet."

"I'll make you regret this."

I rolled my eyes. "I already regret ever meeting you."

"I should beat you to a pulp."

Fear entwined its way around my heart, crushing my chest until drawing in a full breath became difficult. Still, I hid my feelings as best I could, gazing at Colton with a neutrality I certainly didn't possess. While I didn't believe the old Colton would ever succumb to the impulse to hurt me, I'd no idea what this new Colton might do.

"And you'll be in jail before you know what hit you," I said.

Colton paced forward; his fists bunched. "Really? The cops won't know a thing if you're not around to call them."

Panic sped up my spine. He wouldn't. Would he?

"Touch me, and I'll fight back. You won't come through it unscathed, dipshit."

Frantic, I thought about a potential weapon, once again thinking I was stupid to not have a baseball bat handy. As Colton continued to advance, his expression stiff, unyielding, I knew he meant what he said. If he couldn't have me, no one could.

Colton planned to kill me.

I grabbed the only thing I could―my set of keys on the nearby table.

I slipped the keys between my fingers as a long-ago self-defense course taught me even as Colton reached out to seize my shoulders. He loomed over me, his eyes bright with hate and murder. I didn't recognize the man I once loved, whom I'd slept with, and hoped to spend the rest of my life with.

That's coming true. He'll be the last one I'm with in this lifetime.

"Not today, asshole," I snarled, and slashed his face with the keys.

Colton stumbled backward, crying out, his hand rising to the bleeding cuts across his left cheek and nose. I gave him no time to recover. Raking the keys across his forehead, forcing him back another step, then I leaned my weight away from him.

I kicked him solidly in his balls.

Choking, his face turning purple, Colton dropped to his knees. His hands clutched at his crotch, cradling his jewels, his mouth working but the only sounds that emerged were " Urk urk urk". While I had the impulse to strike him again, punish him further, the fresh panic overwhelmed it. If Colton got up again….

Whirling, I slammed the door open and fled.

I clattered down the stairs, running headlong, my terror nipping at my ass. Without a coat, the cold instantly bit through my sweater and jeans, yet I knew that returning to my apartment for winter gear might cost me my life.

"Ellie!"

Colton's wavering, pain-and-rage wracked voice followed me to the parking lot. The snow packed asphalt, shining and treacherous, slowed me considerably. I'd never escape him if I slipped and fell.

Under the lot's light post, my car almost gleamed as a potential refuge. Its windshield held a thin veneer of ice, perhaps not enough to make it legal to drive. Hoping for a cop to pull me over, I lunged into my car and jabbed the key into the ignition. It started with a sweet roar, and I blessed its ability to turn over in the coldest of temperatures.

Colton staggered into view, screaming something I didn't hear over the engine. I yanked the transmission into drive, popped the headlights on and floored the accelerator just as Colton reached his truck. No doubt now―he planned to chase me. My tires spun, my car sliding sideways before traction finally caught. I drove from my slot, turning the wheel sharply to exit and charged into the street.

I barely saw anything beyond the ice coating my windshield.

Peering through a small chink, I saw headlights coming in the opposite direction, and kept my car in what I hoped was the right lane.

Behind me, Colton flashed his lights, honked his horn. He wanted me to pull over.

No way, José. Grim, scared out of my mind, I fought to accelerate on the icy road. My speedometer read thirty miles an hour. A proper and legal speed limit under normal conditions, a dangerous pace on ice when I barely saw anything through the glaze covering my windshield. The heater wasn't melting it fast enough.

"Oh, shit, this is bad, this is really, really bad."

Colton's truck hung onto my rear like a bad dream. If I stopped, he'd surely yank me from my car and do what, God only knew. There weren't enough people around to help me if Colton really meant to hurt me. I wished I could believe he only meant to scare me―and really wouldn't lift a hand against me.

"If you want to scare me, dude," I hissed, "you're managing just fine."

A pity the honking and light flashing didn't attract the wrong attention. No red and blue flashing strobes ordered him to pull over. No helpful cop lay in wait to catch me speeding faster than the conditions allowed.

"Go away!" I shrieked at my rearview mirror. "Stop chasing me, go away!"

Colton rode my ass so hard, I wondered why he wasn't yanking on my hair.

If I lose control, he'll slam right into me. That was another fear I certainly didn't need. My car tried to slide into vehicles parked on my right. I corrected the skid, fiercely hanging onto the wheel, and gently pushed the accelerator.

Thirty-five miles an hour.

Still Colton chased me, but he'd given up on the honking and flashing.

Less than half a block ahead, the green light turned yellow.

Fresh panic seized me.

I hit the brakes hard instead of pumping them, terrified of Colton's truck smashing into my car.

The light flashed red.

Skidding out of control, I slid sideways into the intersection. I screamed as my car spun a full one-hundred-eighty degrees. Colton's headlights now burned through my windshield, not my mirror.

His truck crashed into my car's front end in a wild tangle of twisted metal and shattering glass.