Page 174 of Those Who Are Bound

“Do you, Ellie? Do you know?” His voice was low with emotion. “You’re the last one I have left, kid. Do not fucking do this to me.”

Elliott scrunched her face. “Sorry. At least it was me who told you instead of a phone call from my ‘in case of emergency’ card.”

“Doesn’t make a fuck’s bit of difference,” he said. “Don’t lie to me about something like that again.”

Elliott squinted out the kitchen window at the glowing red ball that was the setting sun. “I’m sorry. It was supposed to be over… Well, it’s definitely over now.”

Being an active woman, the forced confinement drove Elliott insane. The initial physical aches and pains went away after the first week. The emotional pain, on the other hand…

She thought about Jonah constantly. There wasn’t anything else for her to think about. Thought about him, got herself off to the thought of him, called out to him as though he could hear her and would magically answer her call—just appear in her bedroom like he had appeared that night of the storm. Appear and fuck her silly, punish her with his cock for putting them through this, revealing himself to be darker than light, tipping that balance and putting her demon in its place.

But he didn’t show up, not for her. He was deaf to any ethereal summons, at least from her. He heard them from some other unearthly entity, but not from her. He heard them from Lucy, whose darling little troublesome car once again gave out on her, requiring Jonah to drive her to and pick her up from work.

Lucy hadn’t mentioned it, so it had been a shock and a thrill when his Jeep had rounded the corner. She was sitting on her front deck with Killion, who’d decided to break up her monotony in the evenings by joining her for a beer.

When the Jeep had appeared, Killion’s existence on the planet ceased; everything stopped. Her sole focus was on the vehicle as she strained to see inside to the man. Chills erupted over her body as her breath was snatched from her. He’d come; he’d finally decided to shatter her wall of silence. But then the vehicle passed and pulled up in front of the office. The letdown after such a high almost had her slumping to the deck planks, but her attention was rapt. Just in case… just in case she caught a glimpse of him.Lucy came bouncing out of the office, waving at him.

Elliott tilted her head when Lucy impeded her view as she entered the car,just in caseshe could catch a glimpse. But no… nothing. Nor did he lean out to return any stolen glances.

The only look she got was when he backed up and drove by; there was a glance in her—their—direction. No wave, no acknowledgment. He was wearing his sunglasses, but the angle of his head toward her told her that he’d seen her.

Of course, she didn’t wave either.

As she tracked the movement of the Jeep, her gaze slammed into Killion’s pointed look. She startled, realizing that he’d been sitting there the entire time, watching her unravel. Had it been obvious, or had she looked merely curious?

He erased any doubt. Pointing his beer can at her, he said, “I love few men. The men who had my six. And that man. He saved me when I needed it, and not in the spiritual way, the literal way. He and Lucy both. And you’re growing on me, boss, real quick. So it fucking sucks to sit here knowing he deserves the best and knowing he’s hurting ’cause he wants you.

“And then I see the look on your face when you see him, and I’m confused. Because I could have been on fire here, screaming for water, and you wouldn’t have known I existed. All he had to do was drive by.” Killion scratched the back of his neck and shook his head. “People fuck my head up.”

Elliott watched him for a few minutes before imparting, “He does deserve the best. Which is why he doesn’t deserve me.”

He hadn’t understood her words, but they were the truth.

It also gave him a cause, and she was a literal captive audience. His cause? Operation ReJE, or Repair Jonah and Elliott. Elliott had shaken her head at him when he’d said it, then she rolled herself away on her super cool knee scooter.

His tactic: regale her with Jonah stories. She didn’t need them. She already knew how incredibly amazing the man was; she’d had him in her bed—he’d literally been inside her. So, although Killion’s stories were nice in a heartbreaking way, keeping Jonah even more in the forefront of her mind, no story could be a substitute for experiencing the man.

Not everything was about Jonah, however. Killion was wise enough to know there was such a thing as too much. And as Elliott became more restless, he asked her to teach him how to box.

Of course, she agreed. Even though it was humiliating to be toted down the stairs, it was a welcome break. And if anyone could use a channel for his anger, it was Killion. Well, herself, then Killion. They were a bit alike in that, which was probably why they clicked.

She kept reminding herself that he wasn’t a replacement for Gage. Gage had been older, after all. But it was fun hanging out with him, the same way she used to hang out with G. And when she’d found herself stuck in the front bathroom, well, she called Killion.

He’d laughed until he cried when he found her, falling back against the wall that Jonah had so thoroughly fucked her against—not that Killion knew about the wall, but it was a constant reminder for her. After Killion’s initial burst of amusement passed, he unwedged the scooter from the jamb and freed her.

“The shit you get yourself into,” he’d marveled.

Indeed.

“Are you going to be okay?” Killion handed her a bowl of popcorn, assessing her setup on the sofa: snacks, coffee, and remote control for the TV all on the cushions with her. Precariously balanced, but she wasn’t supposed to be going anywhere in a hurry.

“Yes,” she answered. After the bathroom incident, he was more skeptical of her ability to manage mundane tasks.

Once; it had happened once.

“You have my number.”

“You’ll be in Warrensburg,” she said. The offer was sweet, that he’d leave his mother’s side to dislodge her ridiculous ass from the doorframe again. Of course, she was more mobile now and had learned not to scoot that thing into tight spaces.

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