Let Me Go (Owned 2)

I wasn’t fine.

Memories were boiling over like a pot left on the stove for too long.

I slammed the car door behind me and climbed up the highway guardrail. Sitting on the cold metal, I stared out at the ocean. Something about the black depths calmed me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Eli demanded, his voice a harsh wind behind me.

“I’m watching the ocean,” I replied.

“And you just had to do that right now?” Eli climbed over the guardrail and stood in front of me, blocking my view.

“I can’t see,” I said lamely.

“What is wrong with you?” Eli demanded.

“What’s wrong with me?” I replied, voice rising in anger. “You show up out of the blue and—” Eli shook his head, cutting me off.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Grace.” He folded his arms. Involuntarily I noticed how much his muscles had grown.

“Don’t swear at me,” I muttered.

Eli glared. “What is wrong with you, Grace Wall?”

“I told you Eli Jackson. You show up—”

“Do not lie to me. I know when you’re lyin’.” Eli stepped up to me, his shins pressed against my knees. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I folded my arms, not impressed. “What do you want me to say? Clearly you don’t want the truth.”

“Oh I want the truth, Grace.” Eli pressed, eyes narrowing. “Do you?”

“What does that mean?” I really didn’t like where the conversation was heading, so I kept my eyes trained on his abdomen, refusing to meet his eyes. Wearing a tight red shirt, I could see the outline of his muscles. I sucked in a breath; maybe I’d made a mistake.

Eli leaned over, forcing me to make eye contact. His face was so close I could kiss him. “Get in the truck.”

“What?” I pushed his face away. “No.”

Eli grabbed my hands and held them to my side, once again forcing me to look at him. “Get in the truck. I’m not having this conversation next to a highway.”

What conversation? I pulled my hands from his grasp, stood up, and walked a few feet away. I glanced behind me, expecting to see Eli’s glaring face, but nothing was there. Wondering where he’d gone off to, I made my way back to the spot.

“Eli?” I called out. “Eli? Eli—Oh!” I jumped back as he appeared like an apparition in front of me.

“Get in the truck.” Eli pointed at the truck, as if I didn’t know where it was. “This is my final warning before I haul you into the passenger seat.”

I glared. “You wouldn’t dare.” Raising an eyebrow as if to say Try Me, Eli tapped a foot. “No,” I stated simply. Eli sighed, grabbed my waist, and put me over his shoulder. I screamed, banging against his back.

“Put me down this instant, Eli Jackson!”

“I told you, Grace,” Eli said as he stepped over the guardrail like I weighed nothing. “I’m not having this conversation with you next to a highway. It’s dark and it’s not safe out here.” Eli opened the passenger door and set me down in the seat carefully, making sure not to hit my head against the metal.

I attempted to get out again, but the look in Eli’s eyes stopped me. They were past serious, they were cold. I folded my arms in contempt. “This is ridiculous.”

“Of course it is,” Eli said, slamming the door. He walked around and hopped into the driver’s seat. Turning on the engine he added, “We’re dealing with you, after all.”

I stomped up the steps, not positive I was even stomping up to Eli’s place. I was so mad at him I hadn’t spoken the entire drive. When he’d stopped in front of a hotel-looking place, I’d hopped out and trampled over the grass to the door.

“What do you think you’re doin’, Bug?” Eli called out. I looked back to see him leaning against the truck.