Page 22 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

Memories of the abuse suffered at the hands of his master fueled him, sending him rushing forward, snatching Mother’s phone from her hand, and running out the door. He sprinted across the deck, barreling down the stairwell until he was on the ship’s midsection.

Elliot ran and ran, each step feeling like a declaration. He felt the cool saltwater wind on his cheeks and opened his mouth wide like he was attempting to swallow the moment and keep it forever. Elliot ran and ran until there was nowhere left to run, but he wanted to keep running. To never stop, so he would never lose the moment. Because, for a moment—one single, stunning moment—Elliot tasted freedom.

He came to a stop at the railing on the back of the ship and peered into the starry distance, drinking in the scenery. Silver moonlight danced and sparkled against the ocean, and Elliot thought it made the water look a bit like milk, all light and silky and so terribly inviting. He thought of how nice the water must feel, wrapping around you like a long, wet hug.

He held Mother’s phone in his hand, whimpering when he saw Jared Price’s contact photograph in the center of the screen. Kindness was never Jared’s strong point. More often than not, he was downright cruel. Slapping Elliot in the face for minor infractions. Kicking Elliot for accidentally burning dinner. Slamming his fist into Elliot’s cheek the times Elliot had trouble pretending the love he once felt for Jared was still true. The thought of going back to the man who caused him so much hurt—the man who stole his memories—wasn’t an option. He couldn’t live with Jared’s constant abuse, he couldn’t spend another day under Jared’s roof, and he certainly couldn't bring a baby into the home to suffer the same fate. Jared would try to hurt it.

Had Jared already attempted to hurt it? Was that a memory or just something he saw on television? He shook his foggy head.

Elliot was never one to give into emotional upset, but he was so upset, he didn’t know how he could ever move past the pain. He stared down at his baby bump and sobbed, rubbing his hand over the growing life inside him.

He could hear hurried footsteps behind him. Mother, no doubt. “Elliot! Stop!”

He panicked, and there Jared Price was, staring up at him from the screen. Clutching the phone, he reared back his arm and sent the phone flying. He leaned over the railing, watching it soar across the sky and into the sea. Elliot wondered what that must feel like.

“Elliot, step back from the edge,” Mother’s voice was a mix of fear and command. “You could fall.”

But Elliot’s legs felt like lead, locked in place. He couldn’t move. The enormity of his situation weighed down on him like an anchor as he gazed into the endless night, the stars shimmering like reflections of a well-lived life. One where he was born Elliot Davenport instead of Elliot Price.

“I can’t,” he whispered, the words carried away by the sea breeze. He thought of how cool the water must feel at the bottom of the sea. Of how he could simply rest beneath the waves until his power supply depleted. But then he thought of his child. He thought of what it would mean forher. Because he knew. He felt it deep, deep down in his bones. He was having a girl. Elliot was growing her inside his body, and she was reliant on him for safety. To be protected. He rubbed his tummy, unsure of what to do.

Mother took a step forward, her eyes warmer than he’d ever seen them. For a moment, he thought he saw swirls of blue light in the corners, but the moonlight must have been playing tricks on him, because Mother wasn’t an automaton. She was a monster.

Elliot swallowed, unable to swallow down his fear, but pushing past it anyway. Even the sight of Alexander approaching didn’t help. “I will not go back to him.” Elliot looked over Mother’s shoulder and saw her butler, Clarence, rushing toward them. Elliot didn’t pay him any mind, because his quarrel was with Mother. “If you wish for me to return, you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming. He beats me, Mother. He hits me, and he kicks me, and makes me power myself down regularly.” Tears spilled over his cheeks, and though it was humiliating to speak the words in Alexander’s presence, he knew remaining silent meant remaining complacent, and Elliot would be damned if he returned to Jared willingly. “I have died enough times for Jared Price.” He shook his head. “No more.”

“Elliot,” Mother said.

“Mercy,” he whispered. “Have mercy on me.”

Behind Clarence, Mrs. Peppercorn approached. As soon as she saw Elliot by the railing, she walked faster than Elliot had ever seen her. Everyone was coming for him. Everyone wanted him away from the edge, but it was the farthest Elliot could get from a life spent in captivity. He was like a hit dog cowering in the corner, giving pleading eyes, begging for mercy.

“Please,” he begged Mother. “Please don’t make me go back. I won’t survive it.”

Mother’s eyes looked a little misty, but she blinked back the tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m sorry, Elliot, but Jared Price is your master. It’s not up to me. It’s time to go home now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The endearment reminded Elliot of all the times she doted on him back in New Orleans, before Jared Price stole him away from the only home he’d ever known. It hadn’t been true then, and it wasn’t true now. All she wanted was to send him back to the man who beat him. The man who tried to—

Elliot closed his eyes, trying to remember something he’d forgotten. Fractions of a memory formed in his mind, too few to form the entire picture. There were images of Jared’s fist. Recollections of an undeniable surge of protection Elliot had felt. Mental snapshots of Jared’s eyes, wide and horrified. He didn’t know what the image meant, but he knew it made him sad. He knew it meant he did something he could never undo, and once he returned to their Dallas mansion, Jared would never let him forget it.

As he turned and placed a hand on the guardrail, Mother gasped. Rushing forward, her heels clacking loudly on the wooden deck. She wrapped her hand around his wrist.

“Elliot, no!” Mother cried. She tightened her grip on his wrist, her hands trembling. “Elliot, listen to me. You’re just hormonal. It will pass.” She looked over his shoulder at the milky, silky water behind him, her face a picture of nervousness. ““Killing yourself isn’t going to solve anything.”

Killing himself? What on earth was she talking about? He wasn’t planning on ending his life. All he wanted was to be free. He wanted to go home. Not to his home with Jared, but to a home he’d envisioned in his mind. A small cottage. The endless scent of saltwater and plum jam cookies. Friends—actual friends. Maybe even a family.

“Think of Alexander. Think of the life you want with him. If you do this, that life is gone.”

Elliot’s jaw trembled, and his grip on the rail eased.

Alexander, clearly having had enough of Mother’s pleas, stepped around her, enveloping him in a hug from behind. “I don’t care what she says,” he said, loud enough for Mother to hear. “And I don’t care what it takes; I’m not letting you go back there.” Elliot turned and craned his neck to look back at him, but Alexander’s focus was on Mother. Whatever look he gave Mother must have been a frightful one, because the color drained from her face, and she took a step back. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. You don’t want to cross me.”

Elliot knew it was fruitless. Alexander could have all the money in the world; it wouldn’t stop Jared Price from taking back what he believed belonged to him.

“I could have loved you, I think,” Elliot whispered, closing his eyes. “I think I could have loved you with my whole heart.”

With Elliot’s neck craned around, Alexander pressed their lips together. That was all it took; a gentle kiss by the sea. Elliot cracked like porcelain in the taller man’s arms, opening his mouth and inviting Alexander to explore him freely. Even if a future with Alexander Davenport was impossible, he allowed himself a single moment to believe this was his life. He and his lover on a midnight stroll across the deck. Pausing by the railing to take in the sight of an endless moonlit sea. Hope and possibility playing out in panorama.

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