Chapter 27

27

Maddie

J ordan never called me back on the phone number through the app.

Which is good, since I told him not to, that it was too dangerous. But after all my mixed signals I thought he might at least try.

God, I'm so stupid.

I've been tossing and turning in bed for hours after finishing up my work backstage, unable to get my head to shut up, telling me about all the mistakes I've made, the problems I caused.

When my door suddenly cracks open, shining the kitchen light into the space before it closes again, I know I only have a few seconds to decide how to handle this situation.

Do I want Eli? Yes. But I just…can't be with him.

I'm still regretting the times we fooled around in Rockland, especially the last one when Jordan walked in on us.

I lie still on my side, facing away from the door, pretending to be asleep, waiting to find out what Eli plans to do.

Listening to the sound of his rustling clothes being removed, I make my decision.

Still, I don't say anything until he slips into the other side of the bed, what would be Jordan's side of the bed back home, jarring the mattress around with his heavy weight as he scoots over and immediately slips his hand over my hip, down to my stomach, heading lower.

I grab his hand to stop him, at the same time I tell him, "No."

"No?" he repeats as if I'm speaking a different language he doesn't understand. When I don't respond, he blows out a breath, his mouth so close to my ear I feel it. "Let me help you forget about him for a few minutes."

"There's nothing you can do to make me forget about him, not even for a few minutes," I remark.

Scoffing, Eli says, "I find that hard to believe."

"Well, believe it."

I have no idea if Eli will even respect my rejection, my refusal or not. After all, he usually just takes what he wants without asking.

I'm relieved when his hard body slumps against the back of mine, and he lifts our joined hands up to my stomach, letting them rest there.

"What was so great about Jordan, anyway?"

"He loved me," I answer simply, clutching the pillow under my head tightly with my free hand as tears well up in my eyes. "He…he would do anything for me, and he never treated me like a fuck doll."

There's a long pause before Eli asks, "And that's how I treat you? Like a fuck doll?"

"Yes. And sex is great sometimes. You make me feel so good during it. But I know it's about revenge for you. So then, when it's over, you're done with me."

"You're sure Jordan didn't just stick around biding his time for another round?" Eli asks, and I can hear the smirk in his words.

"Yes, I'm sure. It wasn't just sex for him or me when it was the two of us. He was my best friend. My only friend for a long time. Maybe…maybe we were only meant to be friends, love each other as friends. Maybe it wasn't the all-consuming, unconditional love, and physical attraction for him like it was for me. If it was, he wouldn't have just told me to leave without asking to come with me, right? If he really loved me, if I was enough for him, he wouldn't want to be apart from me for even a day, because even that much time is too long. But I wasn't…"

It feels like Eli presses a kiss to the back of my head before he says, "What can I do to make it better?"

I shake my head. "There's nothing you can do."

I would almost swear that I felt Eli flinch.

"Let me try?" he whispers, his body pressing closer to my backside.

"No sex," I warn him. "Don't even try to slip it in while I'm sleeping."

"Fine, but I can't help it if I poke you. You have a fine ass, made for a dick to bury inside of it."

"Whatever."

"So, I can stay?"

"Yes. Just to sleep. And cuddle."

This time he huffs the word, "Fine. But you can't ever tell anyone I cuddled with you. It'll ruin my reputation as Eligor."

"Nobody would believe me. Besides, if I told anyone, Daddy would kill you," I remind him.

"True enough. And it's not just revenge for me…"

Sniffling, I wipe my cheek off on the pillowcase, and Eli says, "Please don't cry anymore."

"Why not? Do tears make your dick go soft?" I guess.

"Yes, your tears make my dick and my heart go soft. I don't like it."

My throat tightens at his confession. "You don't like having a soft heart?"

"No. It would make it too easy to rip it apart again when it took me years to repair it the first time."

"When was the first time your heart was ripped apart?" I ask, assuming it must have been some woman or some man in his past, one I immediately dislike.

But then Eli says, "When my mom tossed me into a shallow grave after she thought she had drowned me. I guess I was lucky she didn't try to cremate me…."

His words repeat in my head, over and over again, as I try to make sense of them. At first, I think he's joking, and I wait for him to laugh it off. But he doesn't.

That really happened to him—his mother tried to drown him and bury him. Who could ever do such a thing to their son? She obviously didn't love him…

Has anybody ever loved Eli?

My father is probably as close as it's come to having someone to depend on, and he made Eli his slave.

"I'm sorry," I tell him as I lift his palm underneath mine to my mouth and place a kiss on the center of it.

And since he said please, I wait until Eli twitches in his sleep, before I quietly shed more tears for him and for Jordan.

Jordan

"Good morning!" Eli announces loudly. At the same time, the overhead lights are flipped on in the basement. I squeeze my eyes shut to try and block them out the brightness as I take in his shape and that he's got guards behind him…while I'm still hanging out naked from the waist down.

"It's too early for your bullshit," I tell him even though I have no idea if it's morning or night, regardless of his greeting. "Can't you at least take me down and let me sleep on a mattress or something for a few hours?"

"Are you seriously bitching when I brought you an extraordinary gift this morning?"

"Breakfast?"

"Later. First, look who it is."

Eli steps to the side, revealing the guards behind him. It takes my bleary eyes a few seconds to clear as I blink them open. When they do, I can't fucking believe them.

"Is that…"

"Surprise!" Eli yells as if his "extraordinary gift" is an unexpected birthday party or a brand-new Harley.

His so-called gift is being dragged toward me by two guards and he's not making it easy for them. I can even hear his muffled screeches despite the duct tape wrapped around his mouth.

Eli punches the man on the top of the head, and he slumps unconscious. "Drop him here and leave," he tells the guards.

"Is that Darren?" I ask just to be sure.

"No kidding," Eli huffs then swipes the back of his hand over his head as if he was the one who carried a man down here. "A positive ID is appreciated. Good to know I didn't have a group of men grab the wrong guy and haul him here for a slow, painful death."

"Wait…why, how is Darren here in Vegas? He lives in South Carolina."

"I just told you—for a slow and painful death. For revenge. For what the son of a bitch did to you, fucking with your head and hurting your mom."

"But…you don't have to kill him out of revenge for me. Colt and I kicked his ass as payback for what he did to me."

Scoffing, he says, "You kicked his ass? How long did that take?"

"I don't know. I wasn't timing it. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes, until he was messed up and down for the count."

"And you think ten or fifteen minutes of a beating is all he deserves for manipulating you?"

"I mean…I guess I could've turned him in to the police, but I was eighteen and didn't want to have to testify against him or whatever in court."

"No, Jordan. This man ruined your life. He deserves nothing less than a slow painful death. You don't care about him, do you?"

"God, no. I hate that guy. My mom does too."

"Exactly! So let me hurt him for you."

I stare at Eli for several long moments as he goes to work to get Darren hung up by his wrists on one of the hooks about ten feet away from my own.

Once he's done, limp body hoisted into the air, Eli stands back and smiles as he examines his handy work, looking so damn proud of himself.

That's when it occurs to me that Eli considers this, bringing in the man who fucked with me for weeks, who screwed up my senior year of high school so badly I nearly didn't graduate and ruined my mom's marriage, as a gift.

A gift for me from Eli, the crazy, psychotic bastard.

Torturing and murdering the man who hurt me is like his version of a dozen roses.

And I actually think it's sort of sweet.

"Come here," I tell him.

"What?" Eli asks. He looks from his new captive to me in confusion.

"Come here!" I order him and this time he actually listens. But he's still too far away. "Closer. A little bit more. Now stand on the tips of your toes. Perfect," I tell him before I brush my lips over his.