Breaking Elle (35 page)

“Elle! What the hell are you doing?” His voice startles me.

I whip around and find Jace standing inside the doorway, staring from across the room as I go crazy tearing through her shit. He shakes his head dismissively, quietly surveying the chaos as he tiptoes over all the stuff on the floor. He fills the doorway of the bathroom, gazing down at me with concern, as I stand clutching one of the liquor bottles.

“Did you come here to tell me more bullshit about my boyfriend?” I yell. “Because I don’t give a shit what you have to say about it! Look!” I point to all the bottles. “Our mom is an alcoholic!” I twist the cap off a bottle and start pouring it down the drain. He grabs my wrist, twisting me to face him. I see tears in his eyes as he hugs me close.

“I’m sorry, Elle, for being such a hard ass with you, but you and mom are all the family I have. I worry about you.” I pull away from him and look into his face.

“Give me space, please,” I say as I push his chest with both hands. “I get it. It’s just too much right now. If Dad hadn’t abandoned us for his new life, we wouldn’t have to deal with all the crap.”

“Listen, he may live a few miles away, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s gone. I have nothing to say to him after all the bullshit we had to go through. Mom wouldn’t be dealing with this shit with Corey if he’d stuck around.”

“Well, what do we do now?” I grab another bottle and start twisting the cap off. He places his hand over mine. I hesitate and look up at him.

“Stop,” he whispers, taking the bottle from my hand. “Doing this won’t solve anything.”

“So, what should we do? Let her keep on drinking?” I drop my hands to my side, feeling lost and powerless. I hear my phone ringing in the other room, I know it’s Reed, but I’m not ready to talk. I’m still trying to digest what I just discovered.

“Go answer your phone. I’ll take care of this.” I watch Jace take all of the bottles from the sink and walk out of the room. I get that overwhelming feeling again, as I stand in the middle of the room among all of the chaos, of when I was a little girl and I used to bury my head under my pillow to silence all of the yelling and noise. Now all I get is silence, and I need to run from it. I grab my cell and check my missed text and push my problem aside when I see that it’s from Reed.

Reed: I’m here, doll.

Elle: That makes me happy. I’ll be right out. XO

Reed: Ditto, doll.

I can’t get out of the room fast enough, from all the lies and empty words that my mom has been speaking to me over the last couple weeks. I return to my room and slam the door, crumbling to the floor, feeling the urge to cry, but I fight them back. Seems as though I’m doing a lot of fighting and plenty of crying lately. I don’t know what’s happening anymore. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to handle this.

Doesn’t she understand what she’s doing, how it affects Jace and me? The thought of her drinking right now turns my stomach. How can she be so insensitive? I’m dealing with my own issues. I don’t need the added stress from worrying about her. It makes me angry.

I close my eyes, take several deep breaths, imagine that what I just saw was a bad nightmare, and pull myself up off the floor. I lean against the door, staring at my face in the mirror, looking into the eyes of some girl that I feel I’ve met, but never really got acquainted with. I won’t let this destroy me.
I slip into a white sundress and a pair of sandals. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I touch up my makeup and brush my hair. I don’t want Reed to know that I was crying and think that anything’s wrong.

“Hey.”

I stop at the top of the stairs, turning to face Jace in the darkened hallway. For the first time, I truly see a break in Jace’s defenses, and it tears me up inside. I’m pissed at my mom for putting us through this.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, a strangled smile falls from his face.

“Yes. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do,” I reply, gripping the handrail for support. Even through his own pain, he’s worried about me.

“I know.” He pauses. “I saw Reed waiting outside. Are you coming home tonight?” He asks, fidgeting with his phone.

“I don’t know. We’ll talk later... okay?” I smile warmly.

He nods, rubbing his forehead in frustration like he’s about to say something but decides against it, slipping back into his bedroom. Needing to get out of this place and the negativity that seems to follow me around, I head downstairs. I know I’m stronger than this. I’ve learned to expect the worst, but I stay prepared for something bad to happen all the time. It’s an awful way to live.

I burst through the front doors, practically running to see Reed. I need rescuing. When I find him, he’s leaning up against his truck facing the setting sun, its dying rays splashing across his peaceful face. He’s literally a sight for sore eyes, wearing a white Henley and faded blue jeans. He makes the mere process of breathing look so damn hot. I never needed someone as much as I need him right now.

“Hey, what are you doing?” His smile makes my heart palpitate in my chest, my blood pound. No one has ever made me feel this way
. No one and nothin
g. I feel the warmth of his gaze from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. A smile pulls across my face to match his.
God, this feels so right.

“Come here, doll.” I walk into his arms as he brushes my hair away, kissing my neck. “You smell nice tonight.” His breath is hot on my skin, sending a current of heat coursing through my entire body. If I could have my way, we’d run back into my house and up to my room, but not after what just happened. Things are too fresh, an open wound that’s going to need some time to heal.

“Can we go?” I pull away from him giving him a soft kiss.

“Is everything okay?” He raises his eyebrows and opens the door to his truck helping me in.

“Yes, let’s get something to eat. Anything.” I do my best to give him a reassuring smile, but by the way he’s looking at me, he’s not convinced.

“Sure, whatever you want.” He tenderly kisses my cheek and shuts the door. I know I’m hurting him by shutting him out, but I need to figure out what I need to do before I can open up. He holds my hand the entire ride, caressing the top of my hand with his thumb while I gaze out the window. He’s doing his best to give me my space, but how long can I keep him at arm’s length before I completely push him away?

Twenty minutes later, we park, and he kills the engine. Leaning his head against the back of his seat, he turns to me, gazing at me with those eyes that speak to me so intimately before he kisses me. He smiles, hops out of the truck, and comes around to open the door for me.

“Let’s go somewhere fun.” I smile, forgetting about my problems for the moment.

“Sure. I got a cool place where we can watch a game, drink some beer, and eat some greasy food.” He winks, taking my hand as he helps me down and swiftly squeezes me to his chest.

Kenmore Square is a madhouse during baseball season. I’m shocked that he was even able to find a parking space around Fenway Park. The CITGO sign flashes overhead, throwing red and white beams of light into the night. Pedestrian traffic is crazy since there’s a home game against the Texas Rangers tonight. Mobs of people swarm the streets dressed in their team’s color. Overzealous Red Sox fans heckle the Ranger fans while vendors sell souvenirs and memorabilia. He grins like a little boy in a candy store. Throwing his arm over my shoulder, we enter Cask and Flanagan, snatching a small table far enough away from all the chaos and drunks. The game isn’t finished yet, so I can’t imagine what the crowd will be like when the rest of the fans are released into the wild.

“Great choice,” I reply sarcastically. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he slides in across from me. I just want to leap over the table and attack him with kisses. He takes both of my hands and gazes into my eyes for a couple minutes before our waitress drops a couple of menus on the table, mumbling something about being right back to take our order. We don’t pay any attention because we are too focused on each other.

“I need to go to the bathroom. Are you gonna be okay?” He cringes, grabbing his knee as he rises from the table.

“Are you okay?” I ask, extending my hand to him as the pain shoots across his face like a bullet.

“Yes.” He nods. “Just a little tenderness. Nothin’ to worry about. I’ll be right back.” He smiles, or more like flinches. I can’t really tell.

He limps across the room in obvious discomfort. Whatever is going on with his knee seems to be getting worse. I lose him in the crowd and absently flip through the menu, trying to distract myself from what I just discovered at the house about my mom. How are my brother and I going to handle the situation? Does she seriously need some kind of intervention? Has it really gotten to this point? It seems like I’m going from one crisis to the next. I can’t seem to get a handle on my life.

Reed reappears a few minutes later, shouldering through the crowd while balancing a margarita in one hand and a beer in the other. A couple of female Red Sox fans in the crowd try to make eye contact as he makes his way across the room, but his baby blues are focused on me and I get warm all over knowing that he only has eyes for me.

“Just thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.” He grins crookedly, kissing me on the cheek before setting the drinks down on the table. He slides into the booth and leans forward, folds his hands on the table, and hits me with his passionate eyes.

“Who said I wanted a margarita?” I smile warmly, grabbing his hand from across the table.

“Me.” He winks. “If you don’t like it, I’ll share my beer with you,” he says softly. He raises my hand to his warm lips, sending a surge running the length of my body, needing to close my eyes from the extreme pleasure I feel when he touches me.

“I can share,” I whisper, opening my eyes. “But you can’t do things like that to me in public.”

“What do I do to you?” His voice is raspy and deep, his eyes playful. “I want to make you feel good. Is that so wrong?”

“You’re going to spoil me, aren’t you?” I say breathy and light, feeling the heat instantly pool between my legs.

“If you let me, I’ll do more than spoil you.” He whispers, tracing circles on my hand and peeking at me through his lashes. “Soooo... baby, you’re still a mystery to me.” He smiles, using my words from the other night. “Tell me what scares you.”

I smile, lifting the margarita to my lips, and look into his eyes that look like two sparkling gemstones. I take a sip tasting the salt and the sour liquid on my tongue. “Thank you for the drink.” I set it down and poke at the ice cubes with a straw. “So, what scares me?” I laugh softly.

“Yeah. I find a damsel in distress sexy.” He smiles, leaning over the table motioning with his finger. “Come here.”

“What...?” I answer, frowning. I eagerly concede to his request.

“Salt.” He whispers. Taking my chin in his hand, he kisses the salt off my lips. “There.” He sighs, sitting back with a satisfied smile. “You always taste so good.”

“You’re so romantic.” I smile, falling back in the booth. My tenacity is slowly fading or it may already have disappeared.
“You
.” I reply.

“You what?” He asks, grinning charmingly.

“To answer your question. You. Us. We.” I gesture between us. “Scares me.” I say. He tilts his head contemplating my words.

“I thought you were gonna say something like spiders.” He laughs, pinching his brow. “But, why me?”

“It’s all so new,” I say, gazing across the table at him. I want to release this burden, and stop hanging on to whatever past is hurting and haunting me. Won’t I suffer more if I let whatever’s happening right now with him slip through my fingers?

“I told you that you have nothing to worry about with me.” He counters, leaning his head against the booth and running his fingers through his thick hair.

“It’s me,” I say, twirling the straw in my drink.

“Doll, I told you before, I’m not going to hurt you.” He leans forward, taking my hand in his and tracing the outline of my fingers. “I can take my time if that’s what you need. I want to and I have been.”

His eyes never leave mine as he softly kisses the tips of my fingers. I was comfortable with Cane for two years. And, here I am with a man I barely know, someone so unpredictable, but it feels so perfect in so many ways. It seems too good to be true, and I don’t know if my heart can withstand another disaster if I’m wrong. I want to be right this time.

“I like you.” I sigh. “
A lot
and that’s what scares me.”

“I know that your break up with Cane is fresh in your mind, but I’ll never push you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. What can I do to make you believe me, to trust me?” He scratches his head anxiously. “To tell you the truth, I’m scared of this, too. What we have and what I feel for you, I’ve never felt before. I want to make sure I’m doing everything right with you. Can you believe me?”

Before I can answer, a group of rowdy Texas Rangers’ fans diverts our attention. They are arguing back and forth at the bar, yelling something about the Dallas Cowboys. He must have caught something in the conversation because Reed immediately lowers his head.

“Do you know them or something?” I ask glancing over.

“No. Just heard them say something about the Cowboys.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor in his eyes but a hardness. Fear.

I don’t get a chance to ask him what’s wrong. The loud group barrels through the crowd and heads toward our table with beers in hand. “Holy shit! Landon Hunter?” I look at the drunk and then back at Reed, whose body noticeably tenses. He slyly shifts his head in another direction, trying to hide his face by rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, man it’s you! No fucking way! I knew it when you walked away from the bar. Can’t mistake you man!” He whistles in obvious amazement.

I look across the table, watching Reed’s gorgeous features grow tight, and his nostrils flaring. “Nah, I think you got the wrong guy.” He smiles, fidgeting in his seat.

“No, man, it’s you. Damn! You can’t say you’re not. Texas A&M. You were the star wide receiver, drafted by the Dallas Cowboys in the first round senior year! Then you blew out your knee. How’s your knee anyway?” His eyes grow wide as he takes another swig of his beer waiting for Reed to give him an answer as if they are old college buddies or something.