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Seven trips to the emergency room.
All dating back to during the time she was pregnant with Mila.
Nearly five months pregnant.
Broken arm, bruised face, injured collarbone, more bruises. Incidents that were termed as accidents, although anybody with a half a brain could see that nobody could fall down the stairs seven times in a row in the span of two months.
The monster inside me rears its ugly head, demands blood and retribution, and I force it down with cold deliberation.
Somebody put their hands on Eve. My Eve.
It is only a matter of time that I find out who it was.
I know without asking her that she will never tell me who it was. She will never let me see her as vulnerable. I feel no guilt peeking into Eve’s life.
I should have.
But what the world taught me is that if I want something, I have to find a way to take it. And the woman I met, who was all fire and scorn, she is different from what I remember. She uses her attitude to hide herself, and I want to rip down her walls to see who she is.
The door opening and the blast of music has me looking up, and my shoulders stiffen. “Elijah.”
Elijah is a tall man; a dark tailor-made suit clings to his body, his brown-grayish hair slicked back, and those cold blue eyes, so like mine, showing faint amusement at my expense. Unlike mine, they have seen more of the world than I have.
He walks inside, relaxed. “It’s been a while.”
I don’t bother getting up, my eyes tracking him as he moves about the room. “What do you want?”
“How are your friends?” Elijah picks up the paperweight from my table, and from here, I can smell his particular cologne. It is a distinct scent from my childhood, one that I abhorred even back then.
“Why do you want to know?”
He moves inside my office, studying the small decorations, the files, the furniture. “I like to take an interest in your life, every now and then.”
“You’re years too late.”
His cultured tones stir my anger, which I leash with great effort.
“I’m well aware,” he replies, not
a hint of guilt in his expression.
“Why are you here, Elijah?”
He sends a glance my way before walking over to the couch and settling on it, his long legs stretched in front of him in a pose that is as elegant as it is casual, one arm flung over the back of the couch. “It’s come to my knowledge that you’ve been using my network and connections.”
Sarah. Charlotte.
I turn over the documents on my desk. “I was in a tight spot.”
“You could have given me a call.”
“I didn’t feel it was necessary. I just needed to put out some feelers.”
Elijah watches me with unnerving stillness, the silver in his hair standing out against the light from the lamp, his pale blue eyes seemingly looking straight through me. “You brought down the Street Serpents.”
My eyes narrow at him. “What of it?”
Elijah sighs. “That was very inconvenient for me. I had some ongoing business dealings with them.”
