Page 16 of Dare To Live

Elena.

I spin and yank open the door, and catch her with her hand raised, ready to knock again.

“Whatever Elena said, she’s wrong. I don’t know how you got here, but you can turn around and fuck off back to whatever pretty little life you’ve got going on. You’re not welcome.”

“Mom said you’re sick.”

“As you can see, I’m not dead yet. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, if you’re unwell.”

I snort. “Give me a break. Like you give a fuck. Call back your Uber or Lyft or whatever the fuck you used and go home.” I slam the door again and retreat to the couch.

Why the fuck has Elena sent her here?

I sink onto the cushions and close my eyes. The throbbing is getting worse. I don’t need this right now. I don’t want someone witnessing my weakness. The last thing I want is for that someone to be her.

Chapter 9

Arabella

I stare at the closed door. For a second, I’d thought Roger had dropped me at the wrong cabin when a burly mountain man answered my knocking … but then he opened his mouth.

This is not the Eli I remember. He’s broader and rugged, the t-shirt I’d glimpsed hugging the muscles of his biceps and chest. I’d barely recognized him with his beard. But the stormy green eyes that peered at me through the long messy strands of hair are the same ones that haunt my dreams.

What happened to the boy I used to know?

The man who’s taken his place is big and scary looking … scarier looking, I amend.

A white cloud appears in front of my face, with my exhaled breath. Roger is long gone. He dropped me off, dumped my bags on the porch, and warned me not to expect a friendly welcome.

But I’m not about to stand outside the cabin and freeze just because Eli Travers is being prickly. I’m not the scared little eighteen-year-old he could bully, or the one who looked at him with utter adoration. Now, I’m a woman who isn’t inclined to take his shit.

Walk in and take charge. Don’t stop to think. Keep busy.

When I try the doorknob, it opens easily, and I step inside. The warmth from the fire in the hearth washes over me, chasing away a little of the chill in my bones. Eli is sprawled on the couch with an arm thrown over his eyes. If he’s heard me enter, he gives no sign of it.

I press my lips together, grab my bags from outside, wheel in my suitcase, and close the door.

Tugging off my hat, I drop it on the nearest chair. My scarf, gloves, and coat join it. “Have you eaten?”

He lowers his arm and pins me with a glare.

“The fuck?” he growls. “I told you to go home.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” My voice is prim.

“Get the fuck out.”

I eye him across the room. “Even from here, I can see you’re in no fit state to be left alone. Your skin is flushed and—”

Eli coughs thick and fast, his body contorting with the force of each one.

“That doesn’t sound good.” I finish, arching an eyebrow.

Still coughing, he flips me his middle finger.

“Don’t be childish.” I cross over to him, snatch up the blanket heaped at the end of the couch, and drape it over him.

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