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He feigns he’s hurt, bringing his free hand to his chest like he’s in pain. “You wound me, Little Dove, not even willing to give our marriage a chance.” His sarcasm doesn’t faze me, and I roll my eyes at his deflection.
“Quit the bullshit, Elijah. I know you feel nothing for me. You’ve said so yourself.”
Moving closer so his chest is now up against my back, his hand resting on my waist, he leans forward and whispers in my ear. “It’s true, but it doesn’t mean I’m throwing my life away, Stella. I’m helping a friend out, one who, I’m sorry for saying this, desperately needs it.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the husky tone of his voice. I turn to face him and immediately regret it. We’re close, so close my body is now flush against his, his hand still on my waist, his fingers pressing into me as my chest rises and falls with unsteady, anxious breaths. I inhale sharply, exhaling to calm this uneasy feeling.
“And I appreciate it,” I whisper, clearing my throat so I don’t sound so affected. “I don’t know what I would do if my uncle had set me up with one of his business partners, which, by the way, I thought he almost had done when I met your father.” Elijah laughs and I lean back, smacking him on the arm. “It’s not funny.”
His laugh deepens. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at what my father’s reaction is going to be when I tell him you thought he was going to be your betrothed. He’s going to be mortified.”
I smack his arm once again and push against him, making him release his hold on me. “I’m glad you find this all amusing…”
I hurry away from him, grabbing my purse from my bed and slipping into my sandals. He follows me, helping me by grabbing my sweater from where it’s hanging on my closet door.
“Look Stella, when I say I can’t tell you, it’s because I really can’t.” He places the thin cardigan on my shoulders, and I shrug into it, allowing him to assist me. He continues, “My father, as you know, is a judge who’s on the road to winning himself a seat on the supreme court, just like Grandpa Pearce. But,” he pauses, “In order to do so, he needs to prove himself one last time. One big case to show he has what it takes to uphold one of the highest esteemed positions in our country. I am to guarantee that happens.”
Millions of questions run through my mind at his confession. I don’t understand why his father’s future position has anything to do with me. They don’t allow corrupt judges into the supreme court; I mean, they shouldn’t, but who knows? Either way, if Judge Pearce is associated with my uncle, that’s exactly what he is. “I don’t get it. How would you be able to do that?”
“By infiltrating one of the largest criminal organizations in the area and bringing them down.” If I was confused before, his last statement completely throws me off.
“The Cobras,” I mutter, wondering if that is the reason a wealthy son of a judge would get involved with a gang. Although from what I've witnessed and heard, I didn’t think The Cobras were that big of a group, or that bad.
“No, The Cobras are a kiddy gang compared to what we need but joining them was the first step in my father’s plan.”
“Then what I don’t understand.” Once again, I’m left confused, having to take a seat on the bed to steady myself as Elijah continues.
“The Order. They’re a criminal organization based in the town of Galen Grove, chock full of elitist, sanctimonious bastards, who’ve been on the Feds radar for decades, yet nobody has ever been able to round up any dirt on them. Under the leadership of their current President Kane Dalton, however, things have somewhat shifted in the right direction.”
I’ve heard of them, but I don’t mention that fact. When Jade and I spent the week of Spring break at the guys’ apartment, I remember hearing her have a conversation with one of them about a man named Kane. Not to mention a few months ago, she and my cousin had another argument, and his name was brought up. “Has he slipped up somehow?”
Elijah shakes his head. Suddenly, a look that resembles triumph is reflected in his hazel eyes. Whatever it is he knows, it’s in his favor, no doubt. “No, he’s loosened the reins. During his tenure, Kane brought in an outsider, someone whose greed and self-interest is threatening the entire organization. And that’s what we’re counting on. That will be their downfall.”
I’m glad I’m sitting down because this is just all getting out of control. Here I thought he somehow wanted to prove to his band of motorcycle loving thugs he could snag a rich girl with a trust fund, not knowing he himself probably has one double the size of mine, no doubt. Or maybe even that he’d changed his mind and wanted to rejoin his father and stand by his side through his ascension into the supreme court. But none of this that he’s telling me makes any sense. “I don’t get it.”
“Stephan Silver,” he mutters, and suddenly it all makes sense to me.
Stephan is the key to taking The Order down, obviously because I’m sure Kane’s involvement with Bass only means my uncle must have business dealings with Kane, but I’m not sure why they’d risk involving him. “Your father is friends with my uncle. Why would you be plotting something against him?”
The laugh that leaves him next is daunting. Deep from within him, dark and menacing, almost like he’s mocking how clueless I must seem. “Come on Stella, have you ever heard the phrase keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”
There is no way this is all about him. Elijah can’t be using me to take down my uncle. Although that’s exactly what it seems he’s saying and would be the perfect explanation as to why he’s insisted on this false arrangement. “So, you joined The Cobras to help get dirt on my uncle?”
“I joined The Cobras to dismantle a drug trafficking ring that has killed more teens in the last year than any other crime in this area has in the last two decades. Along with KISS, the drug Wesley Servite crafted, your uncle has created Tran-Q, not as lethal, but highly addictive, and these fucking kids are mixing it with other drugs, causing accidental overdoses that have tripled in the last three months.”
I rush to stand, his confession jarring my mind, and I suddenly feel like I’m about to be sick. Bile rises to the surface as I repeat what he’s just disclosed. My uncle created a drug that is killing teenagers. Children are dying at the hands of the monster who has relentlessly tortured me for five years and continuous to do so. It shouldn't surprise me at all that he’s capable of such atrocities, but it does. Deep down, I thought he was just misunderstood. Miserable because he lost his brother and was angry he was left to raise his kid. He was a selfish, pretentious egomaniac who hurt me for sport, but I never thought he’d be capable of hurting and killing others.
“That can’t be true,” I mumble, suddenly becoming dizzy and falling to my knees. Like clockwork, my palms sweat, my heart racing in my chest so viciously it feels as if it is going to burst out any minute. My vision blurs and I fist my hands at my side, my fingernails digging into my palm.
“Stella, shit, are you okay?” he shouts, dropping to the floor and cradling me in his arms.
“My pill, I need…”
“Fuck no!” he shouts, moving to stand so quickly I almost fall forward. He rumbles through the top drawer of my dresser and pulls out the container of medication rushing to the adjoining bathroom. I rush toward him, afraid of what he’s about to do.”
“Stop!” I shout, running and launching myself at him, but not before he empties the container into the toilet bowl. “Elijah, how could you!?” I cry out, dropping to my knees at the front of the bowl. I heave into the bowl, the anger, fear, confusion, all releasing out of me in the most brutal form. Elijah drops beside me, holding my hair back as I continue to vomit.
His hand rubs circles along my back, comforting me, but it doesn’t help. I’m sick to my fucking stomach. This nightmare I’m living keeps getting worse and worse and I’m not sure I can take it any longer.
