Page 24 of Healing Love

My mother’s words are cut off when the left door flies open with a bang, revealing my savior; Elliot. He tore the door off its hinges to get to me. I run over to him, only to be yanked back by my mother.

“Let her go,” Elliot commands.

“Who the hell are you?” the drug dealer asks, finally making his way out of the library to see what all the noise is about.

“I’m the man who is going to take Brielle away from you pathetic excuse for humans and cherish her the way she deserves.”

Tears form and fall down my cheeks as Elliot’s green eyes find mine.

I wrench my arm out of my mother’s death grip and race toward my surly, sweet, perfect mountain man. I’m almost in his arms when something pulls me backward. It’s the fucking drug dealer, fisting my hair and ripping my head back.

Elliot roars and lunges forward, his fist connecting with my captor’s face with a satisfying crunch. He immediately lets go of me to cover his now broken nose with blood gushing everywhere.

I fling myself into Elliot’s arms, sobbing as he folds me into his embrace. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re safe now.” I nod and he tells me to go out to the truck. I almost protest, but truthfully, I’m completely worn out and I don’t think I can handle one more thing.

When I get to Elliot’s vehicle, I pause and lean against the side, catching my breath. Never, not ever, in all the years of dealing with my mother’s bullshit did I think she would do something like this.

I can’t hear exactly what’s going on inside, but I trust Elliot to take care of everything, just like he’s been promising. A few minutes later, he steps out of the house and walks down the porch steps toward me. I’m wrapped up in his arms in the next second, melting into his embrace as he rocks me back and forth.

“They’re leaving town,” he whispers. “At least for now. I’ll keep an eye on things and if I get word of either of them returning, they know what the consequences will be.”

I don’t ask for any more information. I don’t need to. I may have helped Elliot heal from his injury and trauma, but he’s the one who’s right here, supporting me as I take the final step of breaking ties with my mother.

“I trust you,” I tell him, snuggling even closer. “Thank you, Elliot. Thank you for coming here, thank you for saving me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up. I had a half-baked plan to make a run for it, but I don’t think that would have turned out very well.”

“I’m just glad I got here before they could do any more damage. Are you hurt? I should have gotten here sooner. Fuck, I never should have left you in the first place.”

“Hey,” I say in a calming voice. I place my hand over his heart and peer into those endless eyes. “We’re here, together, right now. That’s all that matters.” Elliot agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before opening the truck door for me.

“Let’s get out of here, sunshine. It’s time to take you home, right where you belong.”

“Home,” I repeat. Elliot gives me a sad smile, then reaches across me to buckle my seatbelt. Part of me wants to tell him I can fasten my own seatbelt, but a bigger part of me loves that he’s taking care of me in this way, too.

He hops in the driver's seat and starts up the truck. As Elliot heads down the winding driveway leading to the only house I've ever known, peace settles over me. That's all it was. A house. A big, obnoxious, gaudy house that felt more like a museum than a home. With Elliot, however… I could see myself living with him in his cabin and being content for the rest of my life.

I sigh, feeling my muscles relax one by one the further away we get from my old house. Elliot places his hand on my thigh as if he needs to be touching me in some way. I lean across the console, kissing his shoulder before resting my cheek there.

Elliot hums in contentment, making me smile. This is the start of everything, I just know it.

9

ELLIOT

As soon as we step inside the cabin, I lead Brielle over to the couch and get her snuggled up next to me. She’s trembling slightly, the adrenaline from the day still wearing off. I hold her through it all, not saying anything, just letting her feel however she needs to feel.

When my sweet girl lifts her head from where it was buried against the side of my neck, I see the remnants of tears in her clear blue eyes. “Honey,” I whisper. “Can you tell me what happened? When I went to pick you up, the receptionist said you called in sick.”

Brielle nods. “My mom was waiting for me when I got to my office. When I didn’t come home all weekend, she must have sent her drug dealer to spy on me or something. She somehow found out about us. After she yelled at me and tore me apart for being a whore, she threatened to call my boss.”

“I had no idea our relationship was putting your career on the line. I mean, I suppose some part of me knew it was against the rules, but I figured once I finished my last session we’d be in the clear.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure about the policy between client and care provider, but I’m positive what we did - in my office, no less - was crossing a line. I should have called her bluff or just stopped to think about what she was saying for two seconds. I’m sure she has no evidence, and I really don’t know if she would have done anything even if she did. My mother doesn’t exactly want to bring the attention of the law or military to her current lifestyle.” Brielle takes a breath while I press a kiss to her temple. “I was so shocked to see her, and then to have her yell at me… I was in a weird headspace and just followed her out to her car. Such an idiot,” she mumbles to herself.

“Hey,” I murmur. “You’re not stupid. Your mother is manipulative and cruel, on top of being an addict. She would have said or done anything to get her next fix, and apparently, she did. God, sunshine, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you sooner.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, peering up at me. “You have nothing to apologize for. I knew my mother was getting out of control and I did nothing to stop it aside from a few conversations that always blew up into a huge fight. It was never worth the energy. Plus, every time I even hinted that she drank too much, my mom was quick to remind me it’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault? The drinking?”

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