Page 41 of Festive Fugitive
Then again, maybe it’s me who’s the joke, believing Sullivan’s lies after his death?
“I’m free,” I repeat, tightening my hands on Eli’s.
His smile is pure sunshine, and I find myself on my knees, face pressed to his stomach as I hug him. He’s so quick to stroke my head. He doesn’t judge my weakness or despise it. He’s the antithesis of what I’ve been taught my whole life.
That anyone who learns who I truly am will leave me.
That tears are pathetic.
That only physical strength matters.
That friendships are defects.
That anyone who claims to care about me is lying.
“It’s okay. Take your time. I know this must be a very hard revelation. I can’t imagine he had you cut up likethat just to keep you frightened. You were only a child.” Eli goes down to his knees with me and hugs me, stroking my scar through my sweater. His scent is so soothing. I wouldn’t need to see or hear him to recognize him.
I should scold him for risking his ankle again, but that’s okay. I’ll pick him up and carry him straight to the car once I’m no longer on the verge of hyperventilating.
Such a strange feeling.
As if my chest is so full I can no longer breathe. It hurts. But I don’t want it to end, as if deep down I’m aware that the pain proves I’m as human as anyone else.
“It was hard, growing up without a childhood,” I whisper, meeting Eli’s gaze. “I needed to do as I was told, or face the consequences. Nobody would give me slack just because I was a kid. When I tried to rebel, they… they did this to me. Just to lie to me, told me they could kill me even if I ran away.” I put my hand over Eli’s, right over my heart.
Eli sits his ass on the floor and pulls me closer. He’s half my size, but I feel so safe in his arms. If I did have a destructive implant in my heart, I could give him the remote and know he’d never hurt me.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” he whispers against my temple. “I’m here for you.”
He’s so warm, sweet, fragrant. He’s everything I want and need, so I hate the niggling feeling at the back of my mind that I don’t deserve any of it. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m getting everything I need. Though I can’t imagine why you’d think you can’t love. You’re so tender with me.” Eli leaves several soothing kisses on my face, and I arch toward him as if I’m someone who’s spent their life underground and is only now seeing light for the first time.
“I killed my parents. That was a graduation of sorts. Once they were gone, I had no ties to my past. I watched their house burn and didn’t even shed a single tear. That’s not normal,” I tell Eli, because someone like him surely can’t imagine what it means to be me. “Sullivan patted me on the back after that. The one and only time I think he fully expressed his approval of me in any way. But I knew I was broken.”
Eli is silent for a while as he looks into my eye. I’m wearing the fake one, but he knows which one is real. “Maybe they deserved it for leaving you in Sullivan’s claws. I’m not sorry about the two people I killed. Does that make me a monster?”
Ridiculous.
“Of course not. But we’re not the same.”
He’s about to answer, but that’s when we both hear raised voices over the low hum of the generator keeping this place fed with electricity. I press my index finger to Eli’s soft lips and rise, quietly approaching the door. When I first hear the nurse’s voice, I’m convinced she’s calling the cops, but moments later, another woman speaks up in a shrill tone.
“This is last month all over again! I knew you were doing something under the table. Who are those people, and why do they need to grease your palm to be seen after hours, huh?”
Fuck. Apparently, this isn’t the first time Nurse Patch has drawn the suspicion of her colleagues, but I won’t shoulder the fallout, and neither will Eli.
He’s wanted, so the last thing we need is this nosy woman drawing attention to our presence.
I step outside, immediately shutting the door, and both Nurse Patch and a younger lady with blonde hair focus on me.
“And who are you?” she asks, showing me the phone she’s holding. “If I press this button, the police will be here in minutes!”
Just great.
“Lady, you need to stop participating in the system like a gullible child,” I improvise, but while she frowns at me, offended, there’s interest in her gaze, so I continue. “The government secretly implants chips in the backs of our heads, and the only way to find out andnot be found outis to check it beyond the system. Mrs. Patch is just doing me a favor, and I won’t let you badmouth her!”
I’m a much better killer than an actor, but the new woman is gobbling it up.
