… You regret it, yet?
I have dealt with explosives before, watched people die, killed people, all of that shit I can deal with, no problem. But what I struggle with… what I seem to fail at doing is babysitting two infants.
They’re crying and I’m trying to calm them down, but as soon as I get one calm, the other one starts.
I’m fucking sweating because I’m stressing myself out.
“Here,” I hear the voice start at my side and I nearly jump, glancing over before I see Ella… or at least an Ella that is more grown up than I remember her being the last time I saw her. “Let me get her. She can feel your stress.” She says calmly, as she plucks Eliza from my hands and precedes to calm her down, instantly.
“What the fuck?” I look at her speechless and she laughs, shrugging her shoulders. She walks across the room and up the stairs to put her to sleep in the bedroom.
Standing at the bar waiting for my drink, at Fury’s wedding, when I feel someone stand next to me. Glancing over, I first noticed Ella. It’s been months since I’ve seen her at all. I had only seen her around the grounds that the clubhouse is on a few times because, as a prospect, I’ve only gained access to the grounds recently. I saw her walking into and out of the house. Ash was always shuffling her to and from wherever she was headed to. It seemed to be a job that only he did, but after hearing how Ash got to the club. That he took care of Ella for so long beforehand it makes sense that now with what is going on with Oz that he was more protective of her.
She smiles at me before she talks, “You want to buy me a drink?” The laugh that erupts from me, shocks even me as I look around. Seeing that Ash has already taken off and Oz is flirting with Lucy’s aunt. Ella slides closer to me, and I shake my head.
“What?” she whimpers. “Why is that funny?” Pouting up at me.
“What are you 16?” I ask her, glancing over as she continues to look up at me, seductively.
“So…” she trails, and I shake my head, looking down at the bar counter.
“So….” I pause just as she did before I continue my sentence, “I really want my rocker and even if I didn’t, I would prefer it to prison… or death.” She laughs.
“It’s just a drink.” She tells me as she steps in, causing me to take a step backwards away from her, telling her I know she’s not trying for just a drink. “You’re only a couple years older than I am.” She steps into me again and this time I let her just so I don’t have to say this louder than it needs to be.
“7.” I look down at her over my drink, taking a sip, then setting it back down, and leaning into her. “I’m 7 years older than you and that’s way too many years.” I tell her before she cuts her eyes to me.
“You’ll regret turning me down.” She glares at me, causing me to smirk, trying to hold in my laugh, but failing at it. Downing the rest of my drink, I then ask the bartender for another.
“No, that’s where you’re wrong.” I tell her, stepping towards her this time. “I’ll never regret turning you down, right now.” I pause, slightly surprised that I added in the ‘right now’ part, I hadn’t intended to. Picking up the now refilled drink and taking a sip, lowering it. I pause and make sure that I’m picking my words carefully. I just wish that saying these things to her wasn’t as difficult as it is. “If it was 2 years from now… maybe? But I’m not so sure about it. You seem to forget that I know your family. And I know they would fucking kill me even if you were 18.” She grimaces before she looks away and I shake my head before I take some money out to tip the bartender and I walk away from the bar.
I’m shocked, as it only takes a few minutes for her to come back downstairs. “What are you doing here?” I ask her and she laughs.
“To rescue you from babysitting duty.” She smiles, shaking her head as she sits down on the couch and places the baby monitor on the coffee table.
“What?”
“Well, not you specifically.” She smirks again, “I thought I could come and watch the girls so you guys could be up there more…” She trails as she looks away, and I can see the sadness that sits behind her eyes. I shouldn’t be surprised, though.
“I’m surprised you’re not up at the hospital.” I have to force the words out of my mouth at the thought of Ash lying in the hospital room.
“Dad didn’t want me to go.” She shrugs. “I can’t just sit around, though. I need to feel as if I’m helping.” She pauses before she looks at me and her eyes are nearly filled with tears already. “He’s done so much for me.” The tears that I see in her eyes pull at my heart as I reach over and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me.
“Hey, come on, don’t count him out yet.” I whisper to her as she reaches around and holds back on to me tighter than I have my arms around her. So, I tighten them, matching her grip because I feel as if that’s what she needs. She sobs into my chest for longer than I am actually comfortable with, but I don’t pull away, because she’s hurting and for some fucked up reason, I want to take all that pain away.
After a few minutes, she calms down and I pull away, looking down at her, swiping my thumb under her eye, trying to wipe the tears off of her face. “You know he’s way too fucking stubborn to let that take him out.” I whisper, which causes her to laugh out as she brushes the rest of the tears away, nodding her head.
“Have you gone up to see him?” She whispers and I just shake my head and she sighs.
“No, I rode up on the accident though, and I saw him there.” I look at her and she gasps.
“Oh god, how bad was it?” She asks me and I can’t bring myself back to that scene. I sit uncomfortably with my hands still holding on to her as I just look down. “Axe.” Ella whispers to me, gaining my attention again before I sigh.
“It wasn’t good.” I just shake my head. “But he was talking to us. From what I’ve seen, that’s at least a decent sign.”
“From what you’ve seen?” She asks, looking up at me and her brown eyes question me.
“Nothing.” I just shake my head, but she sends me another questioning look. “The people I’ve seen die, they were never conscious.” I tell her and she cocks her head, looking back at me, a playful look in her eyes.
