Page 72 of Fighting for Ella

If Miguel believed in her then she wasn't going to let him down.

So there she was, dressed in a black halter-neck dress and heels. Her hair was twisted up in a fancy bun with a few locks hanging free, curled to perfection. Shaking hands had made putting on her makeup almost impossible, and she was glad that Scarlett, Lucy, and Cassie had insisted on being there to help.

This was for them as much as her. They had all been targeted, had all been hurt by Dora and her games. They all needed this to be over.

A knock on the door had her about jumping out of her skin. She was so on edge, wound so tightly, that it wouldn't take much to make her snap.

Before she could say anything, the door opened, and Miguel strolled in. For a moment, her brain short-circuited and all she could see was him and how deliciously handsome he looked in his tux. Good enough to eat. Maybe if everything went off tonight the way they all hoped it would he’d let her have a taste of him when he took her home.

He’d been by her side every second of the last few days. Listening to her practice with the kind of rapt attention that made her feel like maybe people really would pay to come and listen to her play even with the short notice. Talking through everything with her so she was confident in the plan and assured that she wasn't alone, that everyone had her back. Holding her at night when her jittery fears got the best of her, coming out in nightmares.

That steady strength had helped her hold it together, and it soothed her now.

Whenever he was around, he filled her with calm. With confidence. She was falling for him a little more each day and she still had no idea what he planned to do when this was all over. For now, he seemed to just be focusing on this, on tonight, on catching the mole, but questions about what happened next kept assaulting her mind.

Stay or go?

Trust himself or not?

The ball was in his court.

“Hey, how're you doing?” he asked as he walked right to her and didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms.

Pressing her face into his neck, Ella wrapped her arms around his waist and just held onto him. Allowing herself tosoak up the steady confidence she needed so desperately. “I'm all right.”

“Really?”

“Really? No. But I can do this. Iwilldo this,” she corrected. While she knew nobody would hold it against her if she pulled out, she’d hold it against herself. This had to be done and she was the perfect person for the job.

“That’s my girl. You got this, honey. I believe in you.”

Grasping the lapels of his jacket, Ella pulled back and met his gaze. “And I believe in you, Miguel. Always,” she whispered. Just like he wasn't leaving her alone to deal with this on her own, she would be there for him if he let her. She’d stand by his side as he worked to keep his addictions in check, fighting along with him. He didn't have to be alone. Neither of them did.

There was so much tenderness in his expression, along with a heavy dose of fear he knew was directed at himself. When he leaned down and touched his lips to her forehead she almost cried. This man had the power to ruin her and what he didn't realize was that he could wreck her just as easily by walking away as he could by staying and risking the future.

“Thank you,” he whispered, then feathered his lips across hers.

The future she wanted wasn't completely out of her grasp, but it would be if the mole wasn't dealt with. So Ella shoved everything else out of her head. “Has anyone seen her?”

“Not yet. That doesn’t mean she isn’t out there, though.”

“I hope she is. I hope she’s sitting out there thinking she won. Thinking she can come after me and no one will be there to stop it from happening. I hope that when we show her how wrong she is she breaks down and realizes that she’s never going to be as strong as we are. I hope it tears her apart when she realizes that she lost.”

“Bloodthirsty little thing aren't you,” Miguel teased as he reached for her cello and held it out to her.

“Only when the other person deserves it,” she said as she curled her hands around her instrument.

“I’ll be right out there the whole time,” Miguel assured her.

“I know you will be.” Actually, in her heart and mind, he’d be standing on stage with her, right where he belonged.

“You ready to go and catch a mole?”

“I can't wait.”

February 14th

7:09 P.M.

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