Thousands (Dollar 4)
Page 33
Selix turned to face the front, giving quiet instructions to the driver to depart. As the car slid into motion, I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
Looking out the window, I said far too blasély, “I’ve had much worse.”
Whoops.
Elder turned arctic with fury. His thighs clenched as every muscle stiffened in a mixture that shot way past anger and turned wild with the need to kill. “I positively hate that that is true.” His face turned dark with torment. “I’d do anything so you never knew the feeling of a fucking bee sting, let alone such abuse.”
Shifting in the fabric seat, I rushed to delete such thoughts from him.
He had to stop taking the blame.
And I had to stop reminding him of my past.
“The police were very understanding. I was—”
His eyes turned blacker than normal. “Understanding how?”
“Well, I told them about…me and other things. They took me to the hospital to do tests.”
He went deathly still. “And these tests…were the results good or bad?”
My chest turned hollow with the newfound emptiness that I would never be a mother. Never carry that magic. I had no intention of telling him such a thing. Ever.
Ensuring calmness decorated my face and not pain, I nodded. “The results were fine. I’m well on the mend—thanks to you. I’m healthy.” Touching my cheek where the swelling of injury remained, I shrugged. “This will fade in a few days and then no more. I’m done being someone’s punching bag.”
Elder locked his jaw, glaring out the window at downtown Monte Carlo. “I suppose it’s a good thing they checked you over. Saves the appointments I’d booked in. We don’t need to worry about them now.”
I sucked in a breath, grateful that I’d seen a gynaecologist who wasn’t a member of his team and would stand by their confidentially clause.
My barrenness was my own hollowness to bear—not his.
Taking a deep breath, Elder asked a short, painful question—almost as if he hadn’t meant to ask it, but his mouth betrayed him. “Did you tell them about me? Give them my name?”
My head whipped to face him. “Of course not.” Misery barbed my heart that he assumed I’d expose him like that. “You saved my life, El. Why would I deliberately try to ruin yours in return?”
He instantly chagrined, rubbing his face with his hand as his shoulders slouched. “Fuck, of course, you didn’t.” He massaged his forehead. “I’m losing my mind.” His heavy palm landed on my knee, warm, powerful, apologetic.
“It’s right for you to be nervous.” I patted his knuckles.
His body shifted as he shook his head. “I trust you. Trust implies that I don’t need to ask such things.”
Silence cloaked the car for a few seconds, both of us trying to figure out what to say next. When Elder spoke again, it was as if his question bypassed his lips and entered my mind before he’d even uttered it.
I knew exactly what he would ask.
And I answered before he could phrase it. “No, I didn’t.”
His eyebrow rose, his lips tight even as curiosity shoved aside some of his anger. “You don’t know my question.”
“I do.” I twisted closer to him. “You were going to ask if I gave them Alrik’s name. And the answer is no, I didn’t.”
He shrugged, his illusion of calm not convincing. “Why not? Don’t you want justice…didn’t they want proof?”
My heart suffered a crestfallen beat. We’d been so connected before. Now, we were this odd stumbling thing, stuck between incorrect comprehensions and rotten confusion.
His question once again was hurtful. “You gave me all the justice I needed, and they didn’t need any more proof than what my body provided. My missing person’s file, I assume, is now closed. I had more than enough evidence that I was sold—”
“Fuck.” Slouching into the seat, he covered his eyes. “What a bastard thing to say.” His fingers clenched around my knee. “Forgive me, Pim. It’s been a long few days.”
He didn’t need my forgiveness. He already had my understanding.
Reclining to match him, I rested my head on his shoulder, granting comfort to both of us. The matching tension in our spines trickled away breath by breath until we were able to step out of the misunderstanding and discomfort and find our way back to each other.
We sighed in sync as I murmured, “I didn’t give them Alrik’s name as you helped deliver the justice he deserved. I also didn’t give them his name as I didn’t want any ties of them finding you.” I snuggled closer. “I might have walked away from you, Elder, but I did it because I care. You hurt when you’re around me. Just because I couldn’t physically hurt you anymore doesn’t mean I’d blab to anyone about you, destroy your business, your life, or wish anything bad for you.”
My voice lowered to barely a whisper. “You’re the most important person in the world to me. My mother and father might have given me life, but you returned it to me when I no longer wanted it. For that you have my undying loyalty—no matter if we’re together or apart.”