Authors: Jessica Gadziala
“You
need the car?” Gabe asked, finally looking back at Xander. The
guy was so screwed and he hadn't even figured it out yet.
“Yeah,”
Xander agreed. “What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing,”
Gabe said, shaking his head. “You want the black outs or no?”
Xander
looked down at Ellie for a quick second. Why was he still holding
her? And why had she maneuvered herself closer, the side of her face
brushing his ribs? She would probably feel safer with blacked-out
windows. “Yeah,” he said, watching as Gade nodded, moving
toward his desk with a sly grin still in place.
He
pulled suddenly away from her, his hand slipping down her back and
then stepping to the side. She swayed for a horrifying second,
feeling unsteady without the support. She closed her eyes and took a
breath. What the hell was she doing? She folded her arms across her
chest, one of her hands snaking down and rubbing hard at the bandage
at her side, the pain bringing her fully into her right mind.
Gabe
threw the keys toward Xander, moving to stoop next to Ellie's feet.
He grabbed her dropped book,
Wuthering Heights
, turning it
over in his hands. He held it up to her. “'
I gave him my
heart....
'” he quoted, a brow raised expectantly.
Ellie
reached for the book. “'
and he took and pinched it to death;
and flung it back to me
',” she finished, holding the book
to her chest. She wouldn't have figured him for a classic literature
fan. And certainly not so much a fan that he could quote random
passages by heart.
“Rather
the antithesis to the romance everyone thinks the book is about,
don't you think?” he asked, getting back onto his feet.
“It's
not a romance,” Ellie said, pulling her brows together. Who
would ever think it was? “It's a tragedy.”
“You
think she should have ended up with Heathcliff?”
“No,”
Ellie said, firmly.
“Why
not?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“Because
that kind of love is all fire. And it burns everything given enough
time,” she
answered,
looking down at her book self-consciously.
Xander
watched them talking books for a long minute, his brows lowered. He
had known Gabe for almost fifteen years and he had never seen him
with a book in his hands. But the way he was nerding out with Ellie
suggested he was extremely well-versed. Maybe they should have a
conversation for a change that wasn't about work... or women.
“You
ready, sweetheart?” he asked when their conversation finally
died down.
“Yup,”
she said, sending Gabe a sweet smile.
“You
ever wanna talk books,” Gabe said, touching her cheek slightly.
“I am right next door.”
“Okay,”
she said, almost sounding eager at the prospect, making Xander
shuffle his feet with some emotion he couldn't quite place. “And...
sorry again about your throat,” she said, feeling Xander take
her hand and start pulling her out the door.
“Don't
worry about it... Eleanor,” Gabe said when Xander was out the
door.
Ellie
felt her stomach drop, fear coiling tight in her stomach. Did he just
say Eleanor? Maybe it was just a guess. She looked up at his face
through the door after it closed. One of his brows was raised and he
lifted his chin at her. Like confirmation. Like he knew.
He
knew who she was.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“You
alright?” Xander asked, turning back when she didn't fall into
step behind him. He turned back, looking at her staring through the
door to the bail bond office. He moved next to her looking to where
she was starting. Gabe stood there, looking back at Ellie for a split
second before nodding at Xander and moving into the back.
Ellie
was watching him retreat, not looking away. Barely blinking. Christ.
Xander ran a hand over his chin. He knew women practically fell at
Gabe's feet, but this was ridiculous. She couldn't look away. Even
when he was out of sight.
If
he looked a little closer, he would see the horrified look on her
face, but he just reached an arm around her shoulders, forcibly
pulling her along, all the while she kept sneaking glances over her
shoulder back toward the office.
Ellie
sat in the car a few minutes later, her book open in her lap, staring
blindly at the pages, pretending to read while Xander drove.
How
the hell did he know? Her mind raced through its catalog of faces,
trying to place him. Trying to make a connection. But she was sure
that she had never seen him before in her life. But he had obviously
seen her. Back then. Before she started running. Before she became
Ellie.
Was
he planning on exposing her? Oh, god. Was Gabe in league with... him?
The thought hit her hard, making her feel like she couldn't breathe.
She
glanced at Xander from beneath her lashes. But Gabe was good friends
with Xander. And, for all his dangerous airs, he was a good man.
Solid. On the right side of the law. Even if he needed to do less
than legal things at times, she was sure he did them for the right
reasons. For the greater good. To help people. And she couldn't
picture someone like Xander getting involved with someone who had...
really awful connections.
Maybe
Gabe was like Xander, on the good side. But he knew things. He knew
about him. And then, by extension, her.
Maybe
he was just going to tell Xander about her past. Which, she thought
grimly, could be just as bad.
They
sat there for hours, Xander clicking away at his camera, getting more
and more frustrated by the minute. He had gotten plenty of shots of
the woman, who had decided to do a striptease and then be on the top.
And at the angle they were working with, there was no way to see who
was on the bed.
Beside
him, Ellie flipped through the pages of her book, seeming lost in her
own little world,
but getting
antsy in her seat, constantly crossing and uncrossing her legs,
fiddling her fingers against
the
door, readjusting her seat.
“They're
coming out,” Xander announced, making Ellie jump. They hadn't
said so much as a word since they got in the car. “Damn it,”
he cursed, snapping pictures of them kissing on the street, the man
constantly ducking his head to the other side. “I just need one
picture of his face...”
Ellie
looked up and around quickly, reached for Xander's cell phone, and
quickly got out of the car.
He
almost called to her, but was too curious to see what she was going
to do to stop her. She walked around the car and onto the sidewalk,
holding his phone to her ear. “You cheating bastard,” she
yelled, making the man's face snap up and look around, worriedly.
Xander snapped several quick pictures, chuckling to himself,
listening to her as she walked past the guilty-looking couple. “She's
my best friend you piece of shit,” she yelled, moving to open
the door to a coffee shop and disappearing inside.
The
couple laughed nervously and the man leaned and kissed her on the
forehead before moving off to climb in his car.
Xander
put the camera down, getting out of the car and following Ellie into
the coffee shop where he found her salivating over the assortment of
bakery goods. “I guess I forgot to feed you, huh?” he
asked, feeling sheepish. It was well past dinner time and the last
thing she had eaten was breakfast with him, early in the morning.
“I'm
fine,” Ellie said automatically, though her stomach was
growling pretty insistently. “Did you get what you needed?”she
asked, glancing back at the food.
“Yeah,”
he said, smiling down at her as he slid into line. “That was
pretty clever,” he told her, thankful that the job was finally
over. While he didn't exactly catch them doing the deed, he had
gotten enough damning proof. The wife would be happy with it and he
would get paid. Then he could focus everything on Ellie.
“Large
coffee, large tea,” he said to the expectant barista, “and
two corn muffins, two brownies, and two hot pretzels,” he said,
knowing what she had been looking at.
“You
don't have to...” Ellie started to object, but he ignored her,
pulling money out of his pocket and paying.
“It's
the least I can do,” he said, moving down the counter to where
they were supposed to pick their food up, “for someone who
saved my case. Besides, I was hungry too,” he said, reaching
for their drinks and watching as she did some kind of magic stacking
of the six separate plates, balancing them over her hands, wrists,
and forearms, somehow steady enough that they didn't even rock.
“That's impressive,” he said as they made their way to
the table.
“Oh,”
Ellie said, looking down and laughing a little, not having realized
she did anything weird. “Impressed with my server skills, huh?”
she asked, laying the plates down on the small round table.
“Immeasurably,”
he said, his tone dry. “So Ellie,” he said, watching her
pick at the corn muffin, “tell me about yourself.”
Ellie
looked down at her food, suddenly not feeling very hungry. She knew
it was coming. He was going to ask eventually. “How exactly is
someone supposed to answer that question?” she asked, hedging.
“I mean... without sounding self-centered?”
Xander
made a snorting noise and shrugged. “You're supposed to tell me
about your home life, your hobbies, why you moved to the city. That
kind of thing.”
Ellie
sighed quietly. “I was raised by my father. He's was a cop.
Wasn't around a lot the older I got. I took up reading, obviously.
And I moved because I just... needed something new I guess.”
“No
college?”
“I
started,” she admitted, feeling a bit of shame well up. “I
didn't finish.”
“Shit
happens,” Xander said, making her feel infinitely better.
“What
about you?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“I
grew up in the foster system,” he said, his tone suddenly
guarded. “I picked fights for fun. I've always lived here.”
“That
was... vague.”
“And
your story wasn't?” he asked, quirking up an eyebrow, his tone
firm.
But
he didn't press and she felt more gratitude toward him than she had
before. They sat quietly the rest of the time, each of them picking
at their food but not eating much.
She
said
was
. Her dad
was
a cop. That could have meant he
was retired, but there had been a sort of guarded sadness when she
said it. Like her father had died. Like it was something she didn't
want to talk about.
But
at least it was another piece. Something he could look into. Cops in
Portland.
They
drove back to his apartment, Ellie glancing over at him occasionally,
seeing his dark eyes far away. His mind working. Probably about her.
Because it was the only way he could find out about her stalker: if
he found out about her. She looked down at her hands. And he was
going to research her past. In Portland.
When
she grew up in Trenton.
Six
Sleep
was evasive. She laid there, staring at the ceiling for hours,
listening as Xander's breathing took on the deep, slow cadence of
sleep. She should just tell him. Swallow her fears and tell him.
Because for all she knew, Gabe was going to tell him and then there
was a chance she could be out on her ass because she lied. Because
she intentionally put him in danger.
And
he had been nothing but good to her.
She
sighed, turning slightly onto her side, glancing over at him. He
wouldn't throw her out. Not even if he found out in a less than
perfect way. He was too moral for that.
That
thought hit her as almost funny, bringing her hand up to her mouth to
cover the strange strangled snorting sound she made. Moral. The
toughest, most ruthless private investigator in the city happened to
be one of the good guys. One of the ones in white caps. One of the
ones people could rely on to do the right thing.
She
laid there for a long time, watching his chest rise and fall. Finding
the motion oddly soothing. Until, despite the ever-present anxiety,
she drifted off to sleep.
-
And
she dreamed of him. Back when she first met him. Barely out of high
school. At a party her friend had dragged her to because someone had
gotten their older siblings to buy them alcohol. She remembered the
stifling isolation after her friend had ditched her to go make out
with some shaggy-haired, burned-out hippie. She had been standing in
a corner, looking out the window with a red cup in her hands full of
some god-awful smelling liquor that she refused to even try.
She
wished she had brought a book. She had promised she wouldn't do that.
But she could have. Stashed it away in her purse. For that very
reason. She knew she would end up hugging the walls and feeling
utterly alone.
“You
look like you'd rather be anywhere but here,” a voice had said
behind her, making her jump and slosh the alcohol all over her
clothes.