Page 124 of Under Your Scars
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. I had been living in the past for three decades and I didn’t think I had a soul left. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling anything other than pain and anger. She came into my world and tore down the walls I spent so much time building up. She made me feel worthy. She let me be vulnerable. My life was empty before she came into it, but now that I have her, I can’t imagine how I lived this long without her. I messed up along the way. I was selfish. I was a bad partner, and even though I love her with every fiber of my being, I didn’t love her the way she deserved. So, she left. And that’s the day shit hit the fan.”
I let out another heavy sigh. “Shedidwant to leave, Elliot, and I was going to let her go. That morning when you were supposed to get on that flight back to Texas, I left and went to my office on the other side of the city so I wouldn’t be tempted to beg her to stay for my own selfish reasons. Shechoseto stay all on her own. I didn’t force her.”
Elliot clicks his tongue. “I don’t believe you.”
“Ask her yourself.”
Elliot gives me a dead, lifeless grin. He takes his gun back and waves it in the small space between us. It’s languid and unthreatening, unlike his words. “I should have put a bullet between your eyes thirty years ago and been done with it.”
“So do it now,” I taunt sadistically. “But she’ll never forgive you.”
He blows the last of his cigarette smoke in my face and then body checks me before walking back into the house.
My molars ache from how hard I’m clenching my teeth and I have so much pent-up aggression in my body right now that if Elliot was anyone but Elena’s dad, every one of his bones would be broken.
My blood pounds in my ears as I stumble down the steps of the wrap-around porch, my bare feet loud against the loose gravel driveway. I walk aimlessly into the trees surrounding the property and lose myself in them.
I pick a poor, unsuspecting tree, and I let myself go. I use the rough bark as a punching bag until my fists are bloody and trembling and numb. Until I’m so exhausted and sweaty that I can barely hold myself up. I fall face-first into the bloody tree and onto my knees. I lightly bang my fists against the bark as I growl and weep for myself.
For the first time since I met Elena, I feel doubt. Not in my love for her. That’s unfaltering. It’s absolute. It’s undeniable. But I do doubt my ability to be a part of her life and still keep my fucking head on straight. I’ve got enough screws missing already.
I’d love to get back at Elliot for what he did to my parents, but I don’t know if my sanity would survive, and I have so little to start with. I don’t know that I have the strength to keep this to myself, and I don’t think telling Edwin just for him to forget minutes later is going to be enough.
If I told Elena, would she even believe me? She may have her differences with her father, but she told me herself that she’s a daddy’s girl. Her father is her hero, more than I will ever be.
I know one thing is certain: if my father hadn’t killed Diana, then Elliot would have never met Bethany, and then I would have never met Elena.
And honestly? I think that would be more tragic.
I take almost two full hours to collect myself, slumped against that tree in the chilly November air. Weirdly enough, this isolation is comforting in a way that brooding on rooftops in Meridian City never is. A soft breeze filters across long grass, providing a soothing white noise to accompany my sorrow.
Taking a deep breath, I tell myself that I need to be careful. Elliot is extremely perceptive; in a way I didn’t expect. He knows I’m hiding something from him. Does he suspect that I’m a serial killer? Probably not. But he’s going to be watching Elena and I. Monitoring our relationship and going through it with a magnifying glass.
If he finds out that I’m the Silencer, there will be war.
When I get back to the house, the police report papers are still haphazardly scattered on the porch. I lift them into my hand along with the folder, crumpling it all into a tight ball, and set it alight with my cigarette lighter, leaving it to burn in the ashtray.
I sneak into the house and into the upstairs bathroom to shower and wash away the blood and the poison of the truth from my skin. Dripping wet and empty on the inside, I step back into the bedroom. Elena is still sleeping like the perfect little angel she is, unmoved from where I left her. Her presence soothes me. The smallest bit of tension fades from my shoulders. I watch her sleep as I dress, and then crawl into the bed next to her. I carefully place a kiss to her hair.
Elena’s forehead wrinkles and then she flips flat on her back. Her eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness of the bedroom. Soft moonlight casts her skin in a pale bluish glow. “Did you shower?” she asks, yawning.
“Yeah. I was drinking and smoking with your dad for a while. Didn’t want to smell.”
“With my dad? Really?”
“Really,” I mumble, lying flat on my back next to her. “He’s a very intense man.”
Elena responds with a hum, already falling asleep again. “He’s just protective of me. Trying to make sure the great Christian Reeves has good intentions for me or whatever.”
I smirk. “Then he has reason to be concerned, because Christian Reeves has the worst intentions for you. He plans to make you his wife one day. That means you’ll be stuck with him forever, and that’s just cruel.”
She laughs softly, the sound going straight to my heart.
She goes quiet again, and I look in her direction. Her breathing is even, her face is smooth. She’s curled up on her side facing me. Sound asleep.
I fold my arms behind my head on the pillow and stare at the ceiling until morning, thinking about how fucked up my life is and how desperately I wish I could fix it.
As I watch Elena sleep, I finally understand Caroline’s drawing.
