Dear Elliot

by P. Stormcrow

  “What’s wrong Emma?” The mirth in Holly’s voice gave way to concern.

  “Just a dickhead who wanted free drinks at the bar a while back. Corey tossed him out.” Emma sank lower in her seat.

  Holly frowned. “We can leave if you think he’s going to be trouble.”

  “No.” Emma pushed herself back up. “We’ve already ordered. Let’s stay. I’m not going to leave just because of some weasel.”

  Holly glanced at the bar and Emma followed her friend’s gaze to where Tiny Tim was still chatting up a storm with the bartender.

  “It’ll be fine,” Emma insisted and forced a smile on her lips.

  Holly sighed but refocused on Emma, and when she did, Emma spoke up again. “So, about Corey…”

  The grin on her lips was no longer a forced one as Holly’s cheeks reddened.

  “He’s…n-nice,” Holly stammered.

  “Oh?” Emma didn’t elaborate on her question further, prompting Holly to fill in the silence.

  “Well, he was very nice at lunch,” Holly started slow but shook her head. “So, how far did you get on your project today?”

  The project and not Elliot? Emma raised a brow. The topic of Corey must have really thrown Holly off her game if she didn’t ask about Elliot. But that was fine by her. Emma launched into the detail of her project instead, grateful to have a friend who was as technical as she was.

  At one point, the server brought them their drinks and dinners, but Emma hardly noticed, so wrapped up in discussing the challenges they were both running into with their work. They kept up their work talk through their meal until they’d polished off their burgers.

  “So, is Elliot good in bed?” Holly asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

  “Holly!” Emma clamped a hand over her own mouth after. But she should have expected that Holly would return to the topic of her love life—or rather, lack of.

  “What? Come on. Spill the beans.”

  Only Holly. Emma drank more of her beer for more liquid courage. “Yes. Yes, he is. He turned all alpha male and it was hot.”

  Holly squealed and clapped her hands together. “So, are you two a thing now? Because you guys look like a thing. And did you see his face when you asked Corey to join us for lunch?”

  “Whoa, slow down, Holly.” Emma gripped her drink a little tighter. “We’re not anything. It was just a one-night stand.”

  Holly raised both of her eyebrows and smirked. “Uh-huh.”

  Emma sighed and pushed her hair back. The memory of Elliot tucking a curl behind her ear flashed in her mind. Damn it. “It was. We haven’t—not since that night. I don’t know. I mean, I like him, but I don’t want to start a long-distance relationship. Besides, with Mom still healing and school and all…” She knew she was throwing up one excuse after another.

  “Emma, you and he are not kids anymore. We were all stupid and careless when we were young. Elliot doesn’t strike me as either.” Holly’s voice softened as she leaned forward and folded her arms over the table.

  “I get that, but…” She trailed off again. Even if she wanted a relationship, she remembered what Elliot had said that night, that defeated tone. “Even if I want to, I don’t think he does. Something is holding him back.”

  “I wonder what it is,” Holly muttered, then winced. “Oof, be right back. I need to use the washroom.”

  “Okay.”

  Emma returned to stare down at the glass. The swirls of the amber liquid mesmerized her, and she yawned. It had been a long day. Someone called out.

  “Imagine seeing you here!”

  Emma looked up and cringed as she recognized the man approaching her table. Tim from that first day of spring break. Tiny Tim. And were those two of his friends from that night too? Ugh.

  She couldn’t very well leave, as Holly would return any minute. Trapped as she was, Emma resigned herself to the encounter ahead.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Tim drew closer and leaned down against the table. “I just wanted to say no hard feelings. I felt bad about that night, so I thought I’d come over and buy you a drink.”

  Unease pricked at the back of her neck but she remained relaxed, and Emma drew a breath. Why had he worried her before? He was being nice. “It’s okay. These things happen. You don’t—” The world blurred around the edges of her vision.

  “Come on. I’ve got more drinks back at my dorm,” he suggested and reached for her shoulders. His hands were warm, even through her shirt, and she sighed.

  “That’s it. Come along now.”

  She didn’t resist and didn’t really know why.

  Lights. Flashes. Someone unbuttoning her shirt. She didn’t want it unbuttoned, but it happened anyway. Laughter. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, her consciousness dipping in and out.

  Cold air hit her skin. The constriction around her chest where her bra had been disappeared. Odd. Was someone undressing her? She closed her eyes as they pulled off her pants and underwear. Who? Who was it? She should fight against it. Why?

  A sudden loud bang. Voices yelling at each other. She heard a groan. Glass shattering. It was too much, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Then blessed quietness came and another set of arms wrapped around her.

  “Em? Emma?” Only her Elliot called her Em. She smiled and snuggled closer. Yes, that scent. It was him. That was okay then. Everything was okay. She let the darkness drag her down into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dear Elliot,

  Sometimes all you can do is escape. But sometimes what you need to do is reclaim the power you’ve lost.

  This was the worst hangover she’d had in the world. Her head pounded and her mouth was dry as a desert.

  “Em?” Elliot grabbed her hand, and she wondered why he looked so worried. Holly hovered with an anxious face, supporting her mother. Her mom? What happened?

  That was when she realized she was in a hospital gown…and in bed. Emma tried to recall what had happened the previous night and moaned when she came up empty.

  “Mom?”

  Elliot let go of her hand and backed away to give Anna space.

  Her mother leaned down and brushed Emma’s head gently. “Oh, Emma.”

  “What happened?” she croaked at last, hating the fear in her voice.

  The three of them exchanged uneasy glances. Emma dug deep for her strength. “Tell me.”

  “Three guys roofied you,” Elliot said at last. Before she could even process the words, he spoke again quickly. “We don’t think they got far enough to….” Elliot trailed off, his face a little green. “Their clothing was still on,” he added.

  Their clothing…not hers. She trembled, but her mother grabbed her hand and held on tight. It gave her something to cling to as hot tears poured down her cheeks. Anna wiped her face with one frail hand, her eyes just as wet.

  “The bastards gave me a laxative to get me out of the way,” Holly growled. “When I came out and you were gone, I ran out and saw three guys dragging you away. I called Elliot then tailed them.”

  They hadn’t raped her. Elliot was right. There was no soreness, no residue between her legs. If Elliot got there as soon as he apparently had, then they wouldn’t have had time to do the deed and clean up. They hadn’t had a chance to rape her. Emma clung to that. Anger replaced the fear and depression that had threatened to consume her before.

  “Mom, I want to press charges.” Those bastards would not get away with this.

  “The police asked to speak with you as soon as you’re ready.” Anna patted her hand.

  “I’ll call Dad and get you guys the lawyer he uses.” Elliot made to leave, but she cried out and reached for him with her free hand. He hurried back to her other side and took it, holding just as tight.

  “Don’t leave me, please.”

  Something flitted across his face, but he nodded regardless. “I’m here.”

  Gratitude welled in her and she turned to Holly, mouthing a thank you to her. With he
r mom and Elliot here, a sense of safety calmed her enough that she closed her eyes once more until sleep claimed her.

  When she opened them again, the sun was already setting, painting the white walls with red and orange hues. For a moment, panic beat at her chest until she saw Elliot’s sleeping form in the chair beside her. He still held her hand, and she breathed out through her nose.

  The movement was enough to stir Elliot to consciousness, and he regarded her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Can I go home now?”

  He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “Yeah. Let’s get you home.”

  By the time they got the doctor’s assessment back to determine that the drug had left her system completely, the night had passed into the wee hours of the morning. They left a message for the police to contact her at home then called a cab and rode back in silence. She studied Elliot in the dark and watched stripes of shadow and light play over his face as the car zoomed down the streets.

  The house was quiet as they entered through the front door, and Emma guessed Mom had already gone to bed. She hoped this incident hadn’t stressed her mother so much that it made her even sicker, but Emma could only vow to check on her tomorrow morning.

  “Do you think you can eat a little?” Elliot guided her through their home.

  Emma shook her head. The familiarity of her surroundings may have given her a sense of comfort, but the thought of food still made her queasy.

  “Get some sleep. Your mom gave me your work phone number, and I’ve arranged for you to have a few days off. We can talk more in the morning.”

  Still numb, Emma nodded and let him take her to her room. Having someone lead for once was comforting when she still struggled to think beyond the time she had lost. She wore fresh clothing her mom had brought to the hospital, since her assailants had ripped her other ones, and she tugged at them. As Elliot closed the doors, she climbed into bed without bothering to change and pulled the covers over her head.

  The nightmares came as soon as she closed her eyes. Bright lights. Jeers. Slut. Whore. Bitch. Cunt. They’d called her names. They’d written on her skin. They’d torn at her clothes.

  Emma woke up screaming. She hugged the pillow close to her, but it didn’t feel enough, and she pulled the blanket up over her. Still not enough.

  She sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. Warm light flooded the room and she let out a sigh of relief. Part of her wanted to go down and grab a drink, then her stomach flipped at the thought of a drink at all. Those damn assholes.

  Her gaze fell on the manuscript of Worlds Apart, and with shaky hands, she retrieved it. It was better than sitting up all night staring at the wall or trying to sleep, only to have those nightmares again. Emma pushed the pillow behind her back and settled in to reread the story.

  * * * *

  The days normalized, and between hanging out with her mom, her school project and Holly coming to visit, Emma didn’t get much of a chance to dwell on what had happened. The cops and lawyer had come and gone, taking her account and telling her they would contact her at a later date. She had set things in motion.

  Odd, though… Elliot remained kind but aloof, claiming a publisher’s deadline he had to meet. Emma let it go. She didn’t have the energy to push him.

  But every night also became the same—an attempt to sleep, nightmares, then she would sit up and read, more nightmares. She knew Elliot had them too.

  And she missed her friend. Her more-than-friend.

  Refusing to overthink things, Emma got out of bed with the manuscript in hand and walked out of her room. She continued at a steady pace up the stairs and down the hall until she stood in front of Elliot’s door. A slit of light through the gap between the door and the floor hinted that Elliot had not slept yet.

  Emma knocked.

  No answer. Only a slight shuffling of papers indicated that anyone was even there. She should leave, respect his wishes to be left alone. But, her hand fell on the door handle and before Emma knew it, she opened the door.

  He hadn’t locked it.

  “Emma.” Elliot stood by his bed in nothing but a pair of flannel pajama pants. Last time she’d seen him mostly unclothed, she hadn’t had a chance to admire his form, but now she did, her gaze following the lines of his tattoos that curved and covered his upper body. They were gorgeous. He was gorgeous.

  “Emma, what—?”

  She didn’t give him the opportunity to finish as she crossed the room and threw herself into his arms to give him a searing kiss.

  With shock, Elliot pushed her back by her shoulders. “Emma, what has gotten—?”

  “Kiss me again,” Emma demanded, but Elliot’s grip tightened and he held her at bay.

  “Emma!” he tried once more, and this time there was a sternness in his tone that brokered no argument. She read it in his eyes. He was seconds away from throwing her out of his room.

  “Am I not good enough for you now? Am I tainted in some way?” Emma shouted in his face, her frustration getting the better of her. “Is that why you are staying away now? You can’t look at me anymore?”

  “What?” Elliot’s lips parted before his eyes widened in horror. “How could you possibly think that?”

  “Because you and I were inseparable…as kids and even before. And now…now…” She was crying again. Damn it, why was she crying again? She was no crybaby. Why did Elliot make her cry so often?

  “Oh, Em.” Elliot gathered her close and cupped the back of her head until she laid it on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  She didn’t want to hear another apology. Another excuse. Emma pulled back and looked at him. “Kiss me.”

  “Em…” There was a helplessness to the way he said her name that hardened her resolve. Beneath all the protests, it was plain as day that he wanted her too.

  “Give me control. Help me get over this. I don’t want to hate sex.” It wasn’t a manipulation. It was a fact. She just didn’t realize that was why she needed it until the words had come tumbling out.

  “Here.” Elliot plucked the manuscript from her before he closed the door behind her then took her hand. Without looking, he dropped the stack of paper onto the bedside table, sat down and moved her to stand between his legs.

  “Tell me what you want.” His voice grew husky as he watched her.

  “Lie down. Please.”

  He complied, scooting onto the bed and lying down on his back until his entire body lay in the middle. It was not a small bed, and yet Elliot still seemed to dominate the space. Emma’s heart hammered, but she forced a deep breath into her lungs.

  This was Elliot. He had always been her safe harbor. She held on to that thought as she climbed onto the bed and crawled until she hovered over him. More tentative now than she had been earlier, she lowered her head and brushed her lips against his.

  Elliot parted his lips in response, but she ignored the invitation, taking her time instead to press small kisses over and over, each one lingering a little longer than the last. When he remained still and didn’t even wrap his arms around to bring her closer, she trailed down his body.

  He let her explore, and she took full advantage, tracing the black ink along his body. She became engrossed in the art and ran her fingertips along the outlines. His breathing grew more ragged, but still he held himself still for her.

  ‘I don’t like that kind of control anyone has over me.’

  His words echoed in her mind and she realized how hard this was for him, how difficult a request she had made of him. Yet here he lay beneath her, letting her do what she needed in order to regain control over her own sexuality again.

  “Thank you,” Emma whispered against his skin and slid down along his body until she could resettle at the foot of the bed. There, she reached out and pulled his pants down, inch by inch. He obliged by lifting his hips and she soon discovered that he wore nothing beneath.

  Oh.

  Elliot’s cock sprang forth, hard and ready, a drop of pre-cum d
otting the head. Payback time.

  She pushed his legs apart and resettled between them. Just as Elliot looked down, Emma grinned, and keeping her gaze locked onto his, she swept the flat of her tongue against the head of his cock.

  “Fuck.” Elliot’s head fell back, and he bucked his hips.

  Emma withdrew and waited until he resettled before taking him between her lips. Above her, he hissed and clenched his hands into fists.

  It made her giddy with power.

  She dove in with enthusiasm and sucked him hard while she twirled her tongue around his shaft. Elliot groaned and grabbed the sheets. That was all the encouragement she needed, and since she didn’t quite have the skill to take all of him in, she wrapped a hand along the remaining exposed part of his shaft. Together with her mouth, she pumped up and down his cock.

  “Em… Emma.”

  Whatever he was going to say never formed when she used her other hand to cup and massage his balls. Just as his entire body tensed, she stopped and grinned up at him.

  He snapped his head up.

  For show, she licked her lips.

  Elliot groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me, Em.”

  She replied by sliding off the bed and taking off her clothes, piece by piece.

  His eyes darkened as she crawled back to bed. Now neither of them had on a stitch of clothing and she delighted in the way he watched her body as if it were the only thing that existed in this world.

  “Condom?” Emma asked as she braved herself onto all fours over him. On top, she could decide when to start, when to stop.

  “Left, top drawer.” Elliot sounded strained, and she grinned wider as she retrieved the packet, tore the silvery packaging and withdrew said item. With agonizing slowness, she rolled the condom onto his rock-hard shaft.

  Light flashed before her eyes and faint laughter filled her ears. She paused and waited for the images to pass before she shook her head clear. That’s right. Those memories had no place here.