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Eyes I stared into just last week.
I don’t believe it.
Elijah Pearce is Elijah The Prophet.
My shock must be written all over my face, but Elijah keeps his composure, not giving his reaction away. “I’m so honored to finally have the opportunity to meet you, Stella. Your uncle has spoken so much about you.”
His hand reaches out for mine, but I don’t react. I mean, how can I. This man in front of me, although he’s wearing a thousand-dollar suit covering his tattooed arms, is the same guy who just last week donned the leather cut with The Cobras emblem stitched to its lapel.
“Stella don’t be rude. Elijah is speaking to you.” My uncle chuckles nervously, “Girls, you’re lucky you don’t have any, Anthony. They’re a pain to raise.” Both Judge Pearce and Elijah give me a pitiful smile.
I drop my arms from my chest, my hands trembling at my side. “My apologies, uncle,” I mutter, extending my shaking palm out to Elijah. “Elijah, Judge Pearce, the pleasure is mine.”
Judge Pearce and my uncle continue to converse about something I can’t quite understand. Perhaps it’s because I’ve tuned them out, the loud beating of my heart muting their voices into the background. Elijah drops his gaze away from me cowardly, not man enough to look me in the eye and explain why he's been lying to me. At least his name is actually Elijah. But I don’t understand why he’s hiding out with The Cobras, pretending to be something he’s not, befriending me for no other reason than to mock me.
Suddenly he clears his throat, turning to my uncle and his father. “I was wondering if I could have a moment alone with Stella while the two of you talk business. Perhaps a walk along the grounds. It’s been years since I’ve been here.”
The mention of Elijah visiting my uncle's estate previously comes as a shock. The idea of possibly having met Elijah in the past is preposterous, although, to be honest, nothing would surprise me now.
“That’s a wonderful idea son,” Judge Pearce calls out, “What do you say Stephan, why don’t we give the kids a chance to get to know each other better?” Judge Pearce’s triumphant smile is nothing compared to the warning scowl from my uncle.
“Yes, a great idea, Anthony. Stella, escort Elijah here out to the gardens. It looks like you could use the fresh air.”
“Of course, uncle,” I murmur to the ground, turning to find an unreadable expression on Elijah’s face. “Elijah, if you’d please follow me.”
The moment we step out into the yard, I take off in a sprint toward the gardens without a second glance toward Elijah. I hear him calling out my name, but I don’t stop. I physically can’t. If I let him catch me, if I allow him to redeem himself, to explain how he could make a fool out of me knowing well enough how badly Kai’s lies and games broke me. He’s just as bad, if not worse, for pretending to be different. I feel wetness dripping against my cheeks and realize I’m crying. No, I'm sobbing as I run toward the rose gardens at the end of the property.
They were my favorite place to visit when I first moved here because they reminded me so much of my mother. Roses were her favorite flower. She used to say they were the best representation of life. So beautiful, vivid, yet they were incredibly delicate, not to mention conniving hiding thorns under their leaves.
That’s what Elijah was - a thorn disguised as a beautiful rose.
“Stella, wait,” Elijah yells out, running after me.
I reach the end of the property with nowhere left to run and hide. I’m panting, out of breath from how fast I was going, but I manage to speak. “What the fuck?” I stutter between pants. “What kind of game are you playing, Elijah?”
Although he chased after me just as fast, he didn’t even have a hair out of place, nor was he out of breath in the slightest. “Please, just let me explain…”
Abruptly, I turn to face him, rage visible in my eyes as I scowl at him. “Go on, I'm waiting. What plausible explanation can you come up with for why you’ve been pretending to be some low-level scumbag, slumming it with a gang of motorcycle thugs, who I’m sure are not upstanding citizens. Does your father know who you’re in bed with? I’m sure the Judge would have a lot to say.”
Pain flashes in his eyes at the harshness of my words, but I won’t pretend it isn’t exactly what he deserves. This is me standing up for myself against the men in my life who continue to treat me as if I’m weak and unable to think for myself. I expected it from Stephan and from Kai, but not from him. I confessed everything to him and confided all of my fears and worries. Yet here he is, mocking me as he goes and betrays me just the same.
“I promise it’s not what you think, Stella. I’ll explain it all to you, but not now. Not here.” He turns his head toward the direction we came from. He doesn’t want his father to hear, or is it my uncle he’s weary of? “There is, however, one thing I think we should discuss,” he says, turning back to me.
The wind rustles through the surrounding bushes, odd for the time of year, but clearly, it’s foreshadowing some impending tragedy. Red, yellow, purple, and white petals fall delicately against the ground at my feet.
“What is it you and I have to discuss Elijah, other than your boldface lies?”
“Your eighteenth birthday is next month,” he states matter of fact.
A chuckle escapes me. “I’m aware it somehow keeps happening every year.”
Exasperated, he runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m being serious, Stella. Right now, inside your uncle’s study, he and my father are discussing your future, our future.”
I shake my head in confusion until realization hits me. A husband. I had until my eighteenth birthday to come up with an approved prospect or one was going to be assigned to me.
I shake my head vigorously in indignation. “How long have you known?”
His expression shifts from frustrated to apologetic. “Since before we first met.”
