Page 36 of Fate Awakened

Elle thinks he needs her, and I can already see her building more than a friendship with him. The truth is going to devastate her. Finding out he used her, because of me, may ruin, not only any chance I have at a future with her, but the friendship we currently have. Compound that with the fact that she’s months away from leaving everything behind.

When I first realized that there was more than friendship for me, I told myself she was too young, too fragile, fighting her own battles, and she just needed me to be her friend. So I was that friend because she needed it. Every time I wanted to try, she was in a new relationship, or I’d be the one trying to prove I wasn’t interested. The timing was a mess.

Then, senior year, I got wrapped up in Candice Templeton and her double Ds, and I thought, this is it. This is when I move on. She let me fuck her in the bed of my Dodge Ram, and I was already thinking about bringing her with me away to college. I had admissions acceptance letters and scholarship offers from MIT, Stanford, Berkeley, and Carnegie Mellon, which meant the choice was mine.

My future was all planned out. Brielle was only a sophomore, so she would finish high school with Liv, and I’d use that time to get away from any feelings. We would grow apart.

Then, I got a phone call at one in the morning while lying next to my girlfriend in my bedroom. The call was from University Medical Center Trauma. Elle was in the hospital.

February 11, 2017. Worst night of my life.

I showed up in minutes still wearing my sleep shorts, only having taken the time to add flip-flops and a tank top as I grabbed my truck keys. I hadn’t even told Candice where I was going. I just left her there to find her way home. I ran from the ER to the ICU, trying to find her. The less-than-friendly nurse at the information station asked if I was family, and I nodded without hesitation.

Elle is family.

I’m sure she assumed I was her brother, but she led me to her room, filling me in on her condition. They hadn’t known who to contact when she first arrived by ambulance. She didn’t have any identification on her, only her phone. I was the medical emergency contact, along with Livinia McCoy, who they’d also called, but she hadn’t answered.

Elle needed surgery, so that took priority. According to the nurse, one of the broken ribs had punctured a lung. She was lucky to be alive, and I stood there wondering what could’ve caused so much damage.

I remember standing in the hospital, staring through the window into her room and not believing it was her. She was too small on that bed, too pale, too damaged. Gauze, wires, oxygen, and machines crowded her.

I stayed there at her bedside for four days before she regained consciousness. I filled out all of her paperwork. I called Liv, who joined in my bedside vigil with her parents, who handled all the legal issues and police. I called my mom, but not once did I even think to reach out to Candice. On my third day there, my mom brought me food and a change of clothes, and she told me Candice had left. In that moment, I realized I didn’t care what Candice did. I wouldn’t leave Elle.

It wasn’t until weeks later that I learned the whole story. The idea of that man, a foster parent, who was supposed to keep her safe, putting his hands on her made me angrier than I’d ever been.

If she hadn’t killed that son of a bitch that night, I would’ve gone back to finish the job.

I’d already given up all of my scholarships and instead sent an application to stay in Vegas at UNLV. It wasn’t the best program, but it kept me here, where I could protect her and keep watch over her.

And now, I'm failing at that again.

I shake my head to try and get out of the past, focusing instead on how I'm going to fix the present. The car slows to a stop, and the hood is removed from my head. It's dark outside now, confirming I was there for at least six hours today.

Glancing around, I see the quiet one driving. Cain sits in the passenger seat, and they’re both decked out in full tactical gear, flak vests, several guns, earpieces, and radios. We’re in an SUV parked in front of my house. The dashboard clock reads 10: 52 pm.

One hour until showtime.

“Let’s go,” Cain says as he exits the vehicle without waiting and strolls to my front door.

I follow behind him, wondering why we’re here. I need my car. I can’t roll up with them to the location without looking suspicious.

“My car’s at work,” I state, unlocking the front door and walking inside. “Why are we here?”

“While there might not be a dress code for the restaurant, you can’t show up in day-old clothes without showering. You have fifteen minutes to shower and change.”

I nod absently, turning and heading up the stairs.

“I’d say make yourself at home, but we both know you already did that this morning without any sort of invitation,” I shout over my shoulder as I turn toward my room.

“The restroom’s this way, right?” I joke, not turning to see if he catches it.

If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he laughed at that.

I shower and change without incident, taking a long look at the photo of Liv, Elle, and me that sits on my nightstand.

Oh, to go back to that trip.

Returning downstairs, I note that Cain hasn’t moved. He’s on my couch, still flipping through his phone. The duffle bag of surveillance and communications equipment sits on the coffee table in front of Cain. Before grabbing it, I stop in front of him.

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