Page 49 of Dare To Live

I have to get the hell out of here and away from Eli for good.

Chapter 28

Eli

Fucking closure.

I pace my bedroom, raking my hands through my hair.

Fucking touch her and hold her? What the actual fuck did she think she was asking me to do?

I spin, burying my fist into the wall next to Kellan’s painting.

“And you can shut the fuck up,” I snap.

He doesn’t reply, just laughs down at me.

“You’re not fucking helping.”

Striding across the room, I stare out of the window.

I don’t think I can do this anymore. How am I supposed to face her after what I just did?

Fucking closure … fuck that shit.

I throw open the bedroom window and climb out to drop into the snow beyond. The wind that whipped up during the thundersnow storm overnight has dislodged a lot of the snow drifts, and I wade my way across to the storage shed where I keep spades, axes, and everything else I need for forest living. It takes me a few minutes of messing around to get the doors to the shed open, but once I’m inside, I find a snow shovel and get to work digging a path out from the front door of the cabin. My anger and self-loathing over what I’d just let Arabella goad me into doing, keeping me warm.

I’m not sure how long passes, but the sun has moved to behind the cabin when I finally have the area cleared enough to pull out my Land Rover Defender and make sure the snow chains are secure on the wheels. Hopping in, I drive down the manmade road slowly, checking how safe it is. When the car doesn’t slip or slide, I make the judgment call that it’s good enough and reverse back to the cabin.

Leaving the engine running, I walk indoors and down the hallway. I don’t bother knocking on the guestroom door, just twist the handle and throw it open. The door bounces off the wall as I step through. Arabella sits up.

“Get your shit packed. You have five minutes,” I tell her, and walk out without waiting for a reply.

I tell my cell to start a five-minute countdown and prop it on the dash of the car, while I wait for her. She arrives just as the voice informs me there are thirty-two seconds remaining. I shut it off when she throws open the door, and goes back and forth for her cases, tossing each one in the back, and then climbs in beside me.

I don’t say a word, don’t even look in her direction, just stab the play button on my music and let Black Sabbath’s ‘Paranoid’ fill the interior, and drive away. I can’t risk driving at speed along the road. There could be icy patches, and I don’t want to end up off the road and stuck with her for a moment longer than necessary. The drive to the closest town, on a normal day, takes around forty minutes. Today, I’m pretty sure it takes over an hour, but eventually we pull into the small town. I drive along the only road and pull up outside the small bed and breakfast.

Climbing out, I reach into the back for her suitcases and dump them on the sidewalk, then return to the driver’s side of the car. Arabella glances at me, chewing on her bottom lip, and I look away, hands gripping the steering wheel.

The slamming of the car door tells me she’s finally got out, and I slam my foot onto the gas, wheels spitting up dirt and snow as I tear off down the road.

The sun is setting by the time I get back to the cabin. I put the car away, make sure everywhere is secure, then walk inside. Silence greets me. I can feel the emptiness. Something I’ve never noticed before. Walking across the room, I flick the switch for the underfloor heating, turning it off. It’s not necessary now I’m alone again. The wood fire will be enough. I spend some time lighting it, then go into the kitchen to make food.

I don’t look at what container I grab, just give a quick glance to the color-coded instructions on the lid before I toss it into the microwave and leave it to cook while I take a shower. My footsteps slow as I pass the guest room, and I’m opening the door and looking inside before I can talk myself out of it.

The room beyond is neat, the bed made, and curtains drawn. There’s nothing to show that Arabella was ever here, apart from the faintest trace of her scent in the air. I move deeper into the room and find my sweats folded up and placed on top of the dresser. My throat tightens, and I close my eyes, battling against the urge to shout out loud.

I told you once you had a taste of her, you wouldn’t be able to let her go again. So, now what are you going to do about it?

It’s a good question, and one I need to think about. Because one thing is sure, what happened between us this morning wasn’t closure.

Far from it.

It was the opposite of closure.

It was a door opening and, like I told her when she forced the issue, we would be done when I said we were done.

And right now, I know one thing for certain.

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