Page 111 of Under Your Scars
What bothers me about what Elliot said is that it seemed like he knew something about my father’s death that I didn’t. But I was right there. I watched him get shot. I watched him take his last breath.
I have an unsettling feeling in my gut that Elliot is getting ready to start dangling information over my head like a carrot on a stick.
I never like to be at a disadvantage, so I’ve torn apart every file I can find from when my father was alive trying to find some connection to Elliot. My father was never in the Army, so it can’t be that. Elliot is not in the employment records for Reeves Enterprises in the eighties. I even went so far as to pull up old property records and managed to find the apartment he lived in with his wife and kids back when he had a life in this city. The building no longer exists. It was torn down when I gutted the northern half of the island. Elliot and Diana were dirt poor. They didn’t run in the same circles as my parents. I don’t know how they would have crossed paths.
I must be missing something obvious. I don’t take Elliot for a liar. A hardass, sure, but not a liar.
I even went so far as to pay a visit to the Chief of Police. I flashed my checkbook in his face, and in exchange for a large donation to the department, my first one in years, he let me have access to the full police report of Diana’s murder.
Unfortunately, it was a bust. The records were redacted by hand and then scanned in just like the version I’ve already read. There’s no way to uncover the names.
A few million dollars wasted on a bad lead.
I wonder what Elliot will do when I show up at his house with his precious daughter. I don’t expect him to be surprised. I did tell him that I wasn’t going to end things with her.
One thing I never thought about when I dove head-first into this relationship was the fact that I would have to get comfortable with the idea of having a family again. I’ve always hated ‘family’ holidays. Edwin stopped trying to celebrate them with me when I was twelve. We always just danced around each other during the holiday season and hoped neither of us would mention it. Elena, though, loves Thanksgiving and Christmas. She says November and December are her favorite months of the year because she gets to see her family.
I wish I could relate to that feeling.
I glance at the computer display that shows me the security cameras in the house. The staff has finally cleared out so I can go upstairs to get some sleep.
I’m exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping well. In fact, I haven’t been sleeping at all. When I’m not out chasing down Valenti, my attempts at sleep are pitiful at best. I have nightmares that begin and end with the way Elena was screaming for me in the hospital. I’ll never get that sound out of my head. It haunts me. Makes my blood run cold when I think about how scared she had been—when I think about what she endured for me. What she sacrificed for me.
I don’t know if I should be grateful. It doesn’t seem like the right word. I don’t know if it’s guilt, or shame, or relief I feel. Maybe all of it.
She said she did it because she loves me, but if I put her in that position in the first place, am I really worthy of it?
My perfect little guardian angel is the strongest fucking person I know for gluing herself back together so quickly. But her cracks are still there and I’m trying to save the woman I fell in love with from becoming what I did. From becoming hollow and bitter and angry.
I take a deep breath as I use my shoulder to nudge open my bedroom door. Elena’s sleeping in her own room, so I don’t have to worry about disturbing her.
When I take a step towards the shower, I hear the devil on my shoulder.
Hey dumbass, we showered downstairs.
“Youshowered,” I hiss as I strip and turn on the water.
I rest my forehead against the cold stone wall of the shower, and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself a moment of weakness.
My sobs come out ugly and broken, my breath getting caught in my throat as I gasp for air.
I can’t decide what’s worse, her shattered silence when I found her in the club, or her bloodcurdling scream in the hospital room.
I press my hands into my ears to try and bring some silence to my head, but her scream is still echoing in my mind, and I can’t make it stop. My knees go weak. I fall to the ground, my forehead pressed against the shower floor, and my hands wrapped tightly in locks of my hair.I hit the side of my head to try and knock the sound out.
Here I am having a complete mental breakdown because of something Elena went though, when she’s practically already built herself back up.
This is why I fucking hate you. Pathetic asshole.
“Shut up!”
None of this would have happened if you let me have her. She left that day because of you. Because you just had to be the good guy. How’s that working out for you, Reeves?
Let me have control. Let me in. I’ll fix this. That’s what I do. I fix our problems.
“I promised—”
We’re a package deal. She can’t love one without the other. That’s just wishful thinking on her part. She doesn’t want to be strong for you all the time. She knows she can be weak with me, and I’ll keep her safe better than you ever can.
