“Hi everyone.” She looks timid and shy, and rocks a little on her heels before turning to me. “Thank you for this.” Her big blue eyes meet mine and I can’t speak. I don’t want to walk her to the door and say goodbye.
“No problem,” I finally answer, and then clear my throat. I turn, ready to walk her out, but Pops' voice bellows from across the room.
“So, how’d you two meet?” he asks.
I meet his gaze as Elle answers. I wish he wouldn’t do this shit. “At a bar last night, I left my book,” a blush rises in her cheeks, “in Vince’s car.” Her shoulders hunch inward and she fidgets with one of her heels on the ground. She’s a fucking horrible liar. “He was nice enough to take me home. I drank a little too much.” She can’t even look Pops in the eyes. A chuckle rises up my chest and I can’t stop it. She looks at me with wide, pleading eyes. She’s fucking adorable.
“No problem, sweetheart.” I turn my body again to lead her out. I know it’s rude to be ending it so short, and I can see the hurt in her eyes, but it’s for the best.
“You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Dom asks, and I want to beat the shit out of him for it.
“No--”
“No--” We both answer at the same time, and then exchange glances. Why the fuck doesn’t she want to stay for dinner? My eyes narrow on hers searching for an answer. I mean it’s not like I invited her, but still. She’s fucking quick to get out of here. She breaks my gaze and turns to walk towards the door.
She smiles over her shoulder, still holding the book like it’s her lifeline. “Nice to meet you all.”
“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart.” I open the door for her and place my hand on her back.
“That’s alright,” she replies, and her tone is sad. “It’s fine.”
The way she says it’s fine makes it obvious that she’s not fine. “I want to walk you out.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t like the look on her face. I don’t like seeing her so unhappy. But should I walk her out? No, no I shouldn’t. I should let this end already. End it quickly and cleanly. Ignore her texts. That’s what I should do.
Her eyes fall to the floor as she gives me a weak smile and relents. “Okay.” My heart fucking hurts. I guess she can sense what’s going on. Fuck, this sucks.
I open the door all the way and take a step to push the screen door open for her, but a loud bang from the dining room makes both of us jump. Tommy cusses with both of his hands raised, broken glass and bourbon at his feet. Clumsy fuck dropped his glass. I raise my eyes and look around the room as Tommy swears and wipes his hands down the front of his shirt. They focus right on Pops, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re on Elle.
Her eyes are wide, and her chest rises and falls dramatically. At first I think the loud bang and Tommy cussing scared her. But this is more. This is bad, really fucking bad. I remember right before she woke up in the office. I grind my teeth in anger. He dropped something then too. The loud bang, him cussing. Fuck! Could it really be triggered that easily? She was almost gone. Almost in the clear. Her feet back up with small steps, pushing the door into the wall. Her knuckles turn white, clutching that damn book.
She swallows thickly and then looks at me. Her eyes dart from me, to each of the men in the room who are all staring at her now. She reaches for the knob to the screen door, and lets out a small scream as I pull it shut and pull her into my chest. I back her ass into my crotch and push the front door closed behind us.
Dom looks at Pops, who says something I can't quite make out. Guessing by how fast Dom takes off through the kitchen to the backyard, it must be about getting to Becca. Sure enough, I hear the sliding doors open and slam closed.
No one moves, and the only sound is Elle crying softly. She shakes her head in my arms and I find myself shushing her. She’s not fighting me. But she knows something. She remembered something.
“Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong,” I say calmly into her ear. She’s facing the dining room. Everyone can see her and I hate that, so I turn her in my arms, but she tries to back away from me. She wants to get out of my arms and I don’t like that. She’s not going anywhere.
“Nothing. Please just let me go.”
I give her a small smile and brush the tears off her cheeks. Her skin is so soft. So perfect. “I can’t do that now, can I? Something’s wrong, and you need to tell me what.”
Her breath comes in chaotically as she frantically looks around the room like she’s trapped. Which she is.