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Glancing at me, Elijah raised his eyebrows like he wanted to know how to proceed.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I huffed. “He got the snot beat out of him—”
“No, I didn’t.”
“—so I shoved a blinking tampon up his nose to stop it bleeding—”
“Which I tried to stop her doing.”
“—And I couldn’t leave him to sleep on the couch when he was bruised and looking like a beaten puppy—”
“The hell I was.”
“—so he slept through with me.”
I was about to ramble on about piercings, but I snapped my mouth shut at the last second and stared at my grandma, who was looking between the two of us.
Whatever she saw was good enough for her because she nodded and put her cup on the coffee table. “Great. I’ll let your father know I’ve spoken to you and that Elijah is taking great care of you. Thanks for the coffee.”
She was gone before either of us could say goodbye or ask her not to tell him about Elijah, leaving us blinking at the chair she’d been sitting in, which was now occupied by a pissed off looking Dobby.
“And I thought my family were tornadoes,” Elijah muttered, shaking his head as he stood up. “I see where you get it from now.”
If I wasn’t so focused on the fact Orson was out of prison and that my grandmother knew what happened inside my home, I probably would’ve pointed out that was rich coming from him.
As it was, I just nodded and picked the phone up to call Nan and make sure she was okay. We lived relatively close to the pub he’d been in, and he knew where my house was, so the fact he could get to her easily… I wasn’t happy.Chapter FiveElijahI’d been staying with Sadie for three days, and being around her and seeing how she handled what she was going through with the guy in the UK had made me think harder about where I was in life.
Cooper's parents blamed me for not getting to him quickly enough and held me responsible for him not coming home alive that night. They hadn’t called me a murderer outright, but it’d been close.
It was sad because our parents had been best friends since we’d met, and we’d even spent holidays together, but now there was a huge divide that wouldn’t ever go away. How do you forgive someone for saying hurtful things to you during one of the worst moments of your life? And for my family, they lost an honorary son that day as well and had to witness the shit they’d said to me. My guilt on top of it had made it a very dark time for all of us.
I’d finally gotten to the stage recently where I’d stopped analyzing every move I’d made that night. At home, I had a notebook about the lead up to the call out, including my last bathroom break, and none of it gave me any answers. I literally couldn’t go any further with it, and that was probably the biggest reason why I’d gone into that fight the other night—frustration.
The thing was, taking time away from places I was familiar with and spending time with Sadie at hers had given me space to breathe and think clearly. Now I felt like I was looking forward for the first time in almost two years, instead of looking backward.
Flipping my phone around in my hand one last time, I hit the screen and pulled up a number I’d been ignoring calls from for a while—Samson’s.
It only rang once, and then his voice barked, “Where the fuck have you been?”
He wasn’t my C.O. anymore, but I still respected him as one, and he was a friend, so the anger in his voice hit me hard.
“I needed time.” I knew he’d understand it and why.
He’d been there when Coop’s family had screamed at me at the funeral. If it hadn’t been for his grandparents, I’m sure they’d have kicked us out, but they still made me sit at the back of the church anyway.
There was a moment’s silence, and then he blew out a breath. “You know, I’ve watched a smart, ambitious, dedicated man crumble since that night. You were always the one I looked at, and knew you had the strength to work any situation, any call. I understand you needed time to get your head around it, and I’m not just talking about what happened that night.” I winced but didn’t make a noise to give away my reaction. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, and I want you to be brutally honest with me. Can you give me—your friend—that honesty?”
If he hadn’t stressed the word friend, I probably wouldn’t have agreed. But by saying the way he had, it triggered a reaction inside me that lowered my defenses and brought loyalty to the front.
