Page 1 of Unspoken Words
Chapter One
Ellie
Heat travelled the length ofmy body and fizzled at my cheeks, the incessant churning of my stomach, heavy and unforgiving. The air was thin, almost unbreathable, but it was the thrumming cacophony of screaming and swirling spotlights that had me dizzy and disoriented, my hand unsteady as it reached out to clasp the black velvet curtain, left of stage, that I was standing behind.
“I love you,” a girl called from the crowd.
Connor strode from his position, centre stage, to where I was standing in the shadows watching him perform his very first live show in front of thousands of people. I narrowed my eyes as he approached, finding his dimpled cheeks and mischievous grin. He was up to something. He hadn’t yet finished his set; he still had one song left to sing.
“If you all don’t mind,” he announced to the crowd as he neared me. “I’d like to invite someone very special to the stage for this next song.”
He clasped my hand. My body stiffened.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, reluctant to let go of the curtain I was holding on to.
He didn’t answer. He just kept smiling his infuriating smile and led me onto the stage, my hand clammy, my steps timid and unsure.
A blinding light illuminated my face, and I stumbled just slightly before raising my hand to shade my eyes so that I could see where he was taking me.
“Say hi to Ellie, everyone.”
The crowd—all willing puppets on Connor’s strings—did his bidding and chanted, “Hi, Ellie” in unison, so I gave them a shy wave then turned to the puppet master himself and mouthed ‘I’m gonna kill you’, the many ways in which I could suddenly flowing through my mind like a cartoon movie reel: strangulation with my bare hands, suffocation with a pillow … Death by banging his bloody guitar over his head, Tom and Jerry style.
Connor chuckled and adjusted his mouthpiece. “She just said she’s gonna kill me.” He pouted then added, “We can’t have that now, can we?”
Eyes wide, I nodded frantically at the ten-thousand-plus screaming fans in the hope I’d miraculously win them over. But his pout washuge,way over the top, and bloody adorable. And my chances of winning this battle were as promising as snow in the height of summer, so I gave in and ceased my nodding when Connor and I stopped by the side of his stool.
He patted the black leather cushion and, like the gentleman he was, assisted me as I climbed on top. Everything around me tilted, and I swayed a little, my sense of balance worse than it had been backstage. I felt strange, unlike I’d ever felt: hot, lightheaded and nauseated but not entirely of this world, as if I were being pulled toward a darkness I did not want to enter, a darkness I knew was there but I’d not yet reached.
Blinking, I sucked in a deep breath and tried to remain focussed as Connor’s fingers crept from my hand to my arm, slowly turning it over to bare my wrist. Warmth danced along my skin as he pressed his lips to my tattoo, his grey eyes gleaming with possession. “This song is for you, baby,” he said, stepping back and letting go of my hand. “Always.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks once again, and I couldn’t help but dip my chin and cover my eyes, giggling as I peeked through my spread fingers.
He smirked at me and then toward the crowd. “She doesn’t want to kill me now, does she?”
Laughter rumbled through the arena, his words and demeanour one of triumph. I chuckled. Truth be told, I did and I didn’t want to kill him. Sitting in spotlight in the middle of a stage, in front of thousands of people wasn’t something I’d ever aspired to do, but being serenaded by the man I loved, by the man thousands of people loved, definitely wasn’t something worthy of ‘accidental’ homicide either.
Shaking my head, as if to say ‘no, I didn’t want to kill him’, I chose to blow him a kiss instead, watching with indescribable love and awe as he swung his guitar across his chest and took a few casual steps before strumming the opening chords to “Ever After”—oursong.
The sweet melody wrapped itself around my heart, squeezing tighter than ever before, and with our eyes locked, we spoke our unspoken words as the oiled timbre of his voice sang the opening lyrics.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. The quicker I wiped them the quicker they fell. Despite everything we’d been through and everything we’d lost, he was there—illuminated on stage—and I was right there with him, the way we were supposed to be; together: Ellie and Connor, Connor and Ellie. Surreal and perfect. And, yet, that mysterious darkness lurking in the shadows continued to beckon me. I could feel its icy sting, the uncertainty … fear, and I wanted nothing more than to let its call go unanswered.
Leaning forward, Connor stopped playing the song and wiped the pads of his thumbs over my cheeks before kissing me softly. The screaming, cheering, and wolf whistles quickly subsided until all I could hear was my heartbeat, loud and fast, hard and intense. A sharp pain seized my breast, and I flinched, wondering for a second if, during the day, I’d somehow strained a muscle. The sensation was severe and abrupt, and it caught me by surprise.
I raised my hand and rubbed the area, pushing the pain aside as I tried to refocus on the only man I’d ever loved and what we’d achieved together—our music.
Connor pulled back and broke our kiss, strumming his guitar louder and with more enthusiasm, his eyes wide, his smile wider as he turned to the crowd and sang the chorus. He held out the microphone so they could sing it too, Connor one line, the crowd the next.
There was something superlative when watching a person exude talent, their body a slave to their instrument, eyes closed, completely lost in the moment. And when Connor untethered himself to the world like that, I anchored myself to him and his passion—his presence all-consuming.
Swaying to our song, my smile faltered when another bolt of pain hit my chest like a freight train. I clutched at my breast, dread and agony filling me. That lurking darkness all of a sudden blanketed my body, and my mouth fell open as I silently cried out, desperate for air I was unable to breathe.
Connor’s neck cricked just slightly, and he smiled but not like he normally did. Confusion crumpled his brow, and his hands wavered.
The crowd were so loud I could no longer hear them, no longer see them. I tried to call out to Connor and reach for his hand, but the edges of his body blurred with black fog that rapidly spread until it was all I could see, until the pain in my chest froze and held, my lungs heavy, my body rigid. Until there was nothing or no one left.
Until my heart stopped beating
