AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I place my hands on my hips, trying to look as intimidating as possible, only to know I’m failing miserably. “Why on earth would I trust you,Prophet?I don’t even know your real name. And don’t try to fool me by saying that is your name. I may be naïve, but I’m not stupid.”
His smile fades, eyes growing weary. “Elijah,” he mumbles under his breath, but I catch it. “My name is Elijah. No one calls me that, no one but my father, but if that’s what it takes for you to come with me...”
I’m shocked he actually confessed it. I wasn't expecting it yet somehow, it's awfully fitting. “The Prophet Elijah.”
Smirking at me, he pats the seat of his motorcycle, urging me to take a chance. I know it’s probably a mistake, jumping on the back of the bike of a guy I barely know, who happens to be wearing the patch of one of the most dangerous gangs in all of Pleasant Hills, yet somehow, this seems like the least dangerous thing I’ve ever done.
I gave my heart to a boy who threw it on the ground and stomped on it. This is nothing in comparison.
“One ride,” I warn, assuring him this won’t become a regular thing.
“That’s what they all say, Little Dove,” he mutters with a wink. My stomach flutters, a warm red tint covering my cheeks. “But once you take a ride, you’ll realize all you’ve been missing, and you won’t know how to live without it.”
Marching over to him with a false sense of confidence I’m hoping to fool him into thinking I have, I allow him to secure the helmet on my head, silently cursing myself for not wearing something more appropriate for a ride on the back or a motorcycle. Elijah secures his own helmet, straddling his bike before reaching out to guide me to do the same. I mount his chariot, my dress hiking up my thighs, barely covering my ass, as I settle on the seat behind him. Luckily, I paired my silver, glittery dress with a pink leather jacket, which will definitely come in handy once we ride off into the cool summer night.
“Hold on tight, Little Dove, I wouldn’t want you flying away.” Without responding, I wrap my arms around his waist, holding on for dear life as I scoot in closer, my chest now tightly pressed against his back.
“And what if I fly away?”
He tilts his head to the side, my lips practically touching his cheek. “You’ll always find your way back. No matter what happens, Stella, I’ll never clip your wings. I’ll set you free from the cage you’ve been kept in, that’s a promise. And every promise I make is a promise I keep.”
???
“Where’d you bring me?” I ask as we drive down a dark, eerily quiet street and into a small, vacant driveway. The engine shuts off, humming slightly into the night. My cheeks are frozen, my ass is sore, and my arms are so tightly wrapped around Elijah’s torso, I think they might snap off if he were to pry them away.
Elijah takes a deep breath and sighs. “Home. Well, at least a place I once in a while call home.” I release my hold on him, taking in the small Craftsman style house to my left, with white windows, blue shutters, and a dark gray exterior. It’s nice, at least one of the nicer homes in the rundown neighborhood. Every other house we passed on our drive here was falling apart, covered in graffiti, or looked to be abandoned. Not this one, though. Not only does it look lived in, but it also appears to be well taken care of. Who would have guessed Elijah was clean and organized?
Unless he lives here with someone else. It never dawned on me he might have a family, parents he lives with since he looks to be only a few years older than me, or maybe even a girlfriend, though I’d hope he wouldn’t bring me here if that were the case.
Elijah slides off of the bike, reaching for my helmet before helping me off. My dress rides up higher, and I’ve never been more grateful to be wearing actual underwear that covers my ass than at this very moment. Once I’m steady on my feet, as steady as I can be in these heels, I tug my dress down, smoothing the fabric with the back of my hand.
Without another word, he grabs hold of my hand and guides me toward the front door. Unlocking it, he pulls me inside the dark house, the door closing behind us, making me jump.
Fear courses through me at the thought of being here all alone with him. Nobody knows where I’ve run off to. I mean, Ruby saw me leave with him, but I’m unsure if she saw me walk out of the club. The men who watched me ride off into the night on the back of his motorcycle didn’t seem like the type to give a statement to the police if they were to come knocking for information about my disappearance.
You stupid, stupid girl.My uncle's voice suddenly rings in my mind.
“Stella,” Elijah calls out, flicking on the lights. “You’re safe here, I promise. I’d never hurt you. Thought maybe you’d be more comfortable here than at the club. You didn’t look in the partying mood tonight.”
He’s right. I wasn’t ready to leave my bed today, wasn’t finished crying myself to sleep, or wallowing in self-pity. “Ruby made me go with her. I mean, her intentions were good. She genuinely was trying to cheer me up, but it didn’t work.”
“And why do you need to cheer up Stella?” he asks, moving in slow motion through the house.
“Boy troubles,” I blurt out, immediately regretting it.
“Aaah, it suddenly all makes sense,” he says at the realization, continuing to move through the house and disappearing into what I assume is the kitchen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively, even though I know I’m not fooling anyone.
After a moment of silence, he steps back out into the living room. “Girls like you don’t go to The Jungle unless they’re looking for trouble or trying to prove they don’t need anyone telling them what to do.”
I huff and fall back on the couch to my right, unable to stand any longer on my blistering feet. “He didn’t want me, made that perfectly clear more than once, but this time, it was blatantly obvious.”
Elijah walks over to a tall bookcase with glass doors situated beside the television console, opening them, and grabbing a bottle of tequila and two glasses. He joins me on the couch, filling the glasses halfway, and handing me one.
“Tequila is known to cure a broken heart. Or at least numb the pain.”
I take the glass and bring it to my lips, tilting my head back and gulping down the clear liquor in one swift drink. It doesn’t burn. I don’t even flinch as it travels down my esophagus.
