Completely Consumed (Addicted To You, Book Eight)

by Covington, Lucy

  She hadn’t wanted Elijah to go like that—she hadn’t wanted him to leave without so much as a phone number, an address. She’d felt like they’d somehow formed a connection in a very short time, and now that connection could never become what it was meant to be.

  And what was it meant to be, Caelyn? She asked herself. Do you really think that a guy who uses a fake name with the police, carries hundreds and hundreds of dollars in cash around in his back pocket, and admits to running away from something bad—do you really think there’s a future with a person like that?

  But despite all of her logic, she felt the loss of him acutely and painfully.

  In some ways, losing him so soon was worse than what had happened to her last night.

  Now that’s just stupid, she told herself.

  Maybe it was. But it was how she felt.

  A few minutes later, the driver got on board and sat down, starting the engine.

  She heard the hydraulics hiss and the engine roared dully as they got ready to move.

  At the last moment, the driver stopped. He opened the doors to the bus and yelled out at someone. “Yeah, what is it? You got a ticket?”

  There was the sound of footsteps and then Elijah climbed aboard the bus, looking around for something—someone. His gaze landed on her.

  “Caelyn,” he said loudly, without a hint of embarrassment.

  She swallowed. Her whole body was warm, and strangely tingly. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she was going to pass out. “Elijah, what are you doing?”

  He beckoned to her, waving her towards him. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “I can’t, I’m going to Florida—remember?”

  “Let me take you,” he said.

  She felt like she’d been blasted by a hurricane. The force of what he was saying nearly turned her legs to jelly. Florida with Elijah?

  Her mind was racing.

  The driver turned towards her. “Excuse me, lady. We need to go, I have a schedule to keep.”

  “I know, I’m just— ” she stumbled over her words. “I’m just—”

  “If a man who looked like that asked me to go to Florida with him, I wouldn’t waste a damn second,” an older black woman said from across the aisle.

  Caelyn grinned. “Screw it,” she said. She grabbed her travel bag, shouldered her purse and got up.

  Elijah was laughing now and so was she.

  “I guess I’m as crazy as you,” she told him, as they left the bus together.

  “That’s why we need to make this trip together,” he said. “Now let’s go get you a refund on that ticket.”

  Caelyn followed Elijah off the bus and towards the station. The bus promptly pulled away, and when she looked at the windows, she noticed that all of the people seemed to be staring at her as they left.

  Well, she thought, who could really blame them after that scene?

  As embarrassing as it was, she was feeling happy. She was relieved that Elijah had come back for her. That meant he had felt it too—the connection between them. It meant something to him as well.

  A minute later, she was standing across from the teller at the window, and sliding her ticket under the plexi-glass partition.

  “I need a refund,” she said.

  Elijah was standing just behind her, doing something on his phone. Maybe texting.

  The teller looked at the ticket doubtfully, then looked up at her. “Refund?”

  “Yeah. I just bought this ticket like five minutes ago, but I ended up not taking the trip. So, can I get a refund please?”

  The teller shook his head. “Oh, no. Read the fine print. We don’t do refunds.”

  “But it was only just a minute ago…”

  The teller shook his head back and forth more furiously. “I don’t care if it was ten seconds ago or ten days ago—NO REFUNDS. Can you read? Read that ticket if you don’t believe me.” He slid the ticket back towards Caelyn.

  Suddenly, Elijah was pressing against her, his face close the glass. “Do you just enjoy being rude to people?” he said, his voice raising. “Huh?”

  “Elijah,” Caelyn said, taken aback by his anger. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. They’re taking advantage of you.”

  “It’s the rules.”

  “The rules are bullshit.” He pointed at the teller. “Where’s your manager, huh? I want to speak to someone with a brain in their damn head.”

  “Elijah.” She touched his arm and he flinched away.

  “Fuck it,” he said, slapping at a bunch of pamphlets on the countertop nearby.

  They fanned out crazily and some of them fell on the floor.

  Elijah walked out, not looking back.

  Caelyn grabbed her bag and followed him as quickly as she could.

  ***

  Needless to say, Elijah hadn’t seemed much in the mood to talk for a few minutes after that.

  His eyes had remained glued to the road, intensely focused as they drove out of New York and onto the Jersey Turnpike.

  She’d offered to pay the toll that came up, but Elijah had declined and paid himself.

  Caelyn knew better than to say anything. He was clearly upset, perhaps because he felt he’d been responsible for her losing so much money.

  But she wasn’t upset with him about it—she didn’t blame him. She didn’t even blame the bus line or the cranky teller. It was just life. There were worse things that could happen than losing a hundred bucks.

  After they stopped for gas off the turnpike and Elijah paid again, she had to say something.

  As he pulled the SUV onto the highway, she cleared her throat. “Look, you can’t just pay for everything the whole trip,” she told him.

  He shrugged. “It’s fine. I have the money.”

  “But I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not?” he said.

  “Because, it’s not fair.”

  “You getting stiffed for that stupid bus ticket wasn’t fair either.”

  “It’s not the same and you know it.”

  He glanced at her. “Whatever, Caelyn. Pay for gas next time if you really want to.”

  “It’s not just about gas,” she said, still looking at him, trying to read his expression.

  “What is it then?”

  “Well…” she sighed, and then asked the question she’d been wondering ever since he’d stepped on the bus. “Are you only going to Florida because of me?”

  The question hung in the air and she immediately regretted asking it that way.

  The truth was, she had almost hoped that he was only going to Florida because of her.

  Even though it would have been beyond strange, she wanted to believe that Elijah might feel some of what she was starting to feel for him.

  Maybe he just wanted more time together. She held her breath.

  But he shook his head firmly. “I’m not going to Florida because of you, Caelyn.

  I was always going to Florida.”

  “Oh.” She tried to ignore the disappointment that moved through her belly.

  “Then why didn’t you say so?”

  He shrugged, his dark eyes never leaving the road. “Because I didn’t know a thing about you. For all I know, you were some crazy chick—I didn’t think I needed to tell you my whole travel itinerary.”

  “Okay,” she said. She was starting to feel hurt and a little angry. He was acting as though he didn’t just board the bus in Chinatown and practically beg her to come with him. “So then what changed your mind?

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged again. “You seem cool. We had a few laughs. I figured it was silly to make you pay all that money to travel on some stuffy, cramped bus all the way to Florida when I was going there anyhow.”

  “Oh,” she said, softly.

  “If I’d known they were going to charge you anyway—” He stopped himself.

  “What?” she said. “Would you not have invited me?”

  He didn’t say anything
for a moment. “Look, it’s been a long drive so far,” he told her, not looking away from the road. “Let’s just chill with the Q&A for a few minutes, okay?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Whatever you say.”

  After that, Elijah turned the satellite radio on again and resumed listening to his Geek and Gear podcasts.

  Caelyn settled back in her seat and stared out at the passing scenery, wondering if she’d made a mistake getting off the bus and into his car to go all the way to Florida. If this was the kind of atmosphere that was going to exist the entire drive, then she definitely would regret her decision.

  It was when they passed into Maryland that Caelyn’s phone rang for the first time.

  She looked at her caller ID.

  MOM.

  A thrill of anxiety raced through Caelyn’s body when she saw that her mother was calling. She rejected the call, forcing it to voicemail.

  Elijah glanced over at her. “You all right?”

  “Yes,” she said. Since when do you care? She wanted to reply, but that was a little too childish, even for the mood she was in right now.

  A moment later, her cell was ringing again, and once again, it was her mother’s number. Maybe that meant it was an emergency. Caelyn tried to think if someone would have already known she’d taken off, and contacted the school, the police, her parents.

  She didn’t think so. The only people who could possibly have noticed she was gone by now would have been one of her roommates. But Alicia had been staying over Ben’s last night and Nellie would probably assume that Caelyn had stayed over Jayson’s apartment.

  Her phone was still ringing. She really didn’t want to answer, but another part of her thought it was useless to just ignore her mother’s call. She would just keep calling and calling.

  Sighing, Caelyn answered. “Hi, Mom.” She forced her voice to sound cheerful.

  “I thought you might be sleeping in,” her mother said, in a tone of voice that indicated she didn’t really approve of the reasons that might cause Caelyn to sleep in, but she understood it was part of college life to stay up late partying.

  “Oh, no, I’m awake,” Caelyn told her. “I’ve been awake for awhile.” That was an understatement.

  Elijah smirked.

  Caelyn looked away from him, out the passenger window.

  “Well, whatever,” her mother said, like Caelyn’s sleeping habits weren’t any of her business. “The reason I’m calling is because I’ve got a work conference next week in Boston.”

  Caelyn’s stomach dropped faster than an elevator with the cables cut. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

  “That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for, Caelyn Mary.”

  “Sorry, Mom, I’m just—I’ve got a lot of work to do. Classes are harder than I expected and it’s overwhelming.”

  “I’m sure you’re going to do just fine, Caelyn. You always worry about grades and you always do wonderfully.”

  “Yeah, well, this is different, Mom. Cambridge University is a lot harder than high school.”

  “I’m sure it is,” her mother said, sounding relatively unconvinced. “But I still think you can find time to see your mother for dinner one night!”

  Caelyn didn’t respond. She couldn’t allow her mother to expect that they would see one another next week. Caelyn wasn’t even going to be in Massachusetts.

  Maybe now was the time to just get it out—tell her mother the truth. Admit that she was leaving school for the semester, dropping out and running to Florida. What could her mom really do? Caelyn was eighteen, an adult, and perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

  But the mere thought of saying those words struck terror into Caelyn’s very soul.

  Her mother would be crushed, devastated. Caelyn was the first person in her family to attend an Ivy League college and her parents were totally proud of her for getting into Cambridge on a full scholarship.

  To throw that all away would be madness.

  And Caelyn could never tell her mother why she was running away, either.

  There was a long silence on the phone as Caelyn’s mind spun through the myriad possibilities, the ramifications of her actions finally starting to hit home.

  “Are you still there?” her mother demanded.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound… different.”

  “I told you, I’m just really overwhelmed with school work right now.”

  Her mother sighed. “Okay, I see. Maybe I should try you another time—or better yet, you try me back when you feel more like talking.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that,” she said softly.

  “I’m still planning on seeing you when I come in for my conference. Plan for either Thursday or Friday night—dinner. On me. Okay?”

  Now it was Caelyn’s turn to sigh into the phone. “I’ll call you later,” was all she said.

  “Okay. Love you,” her mother replied.

  And then the line went dead. Caelyn put her cell phone back in her purse. When she looked over at Elijah again, he was still smirking.

  “What?” she asked, glaring at him. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve got a smug look on your face.”

  “Me?” he asked, feigning innocence.

  “Yes, you.”

  “I just couldn’t help but notice that little miss perfect was lying to her mommy.”

  “I’m not little miss perfect.”

  He snorted. “Come on. You go to Cambridge? That means you’re one of those rich kids with perfect grades. Probably lived in Newton or Weston or one of those snobby towns. I know girls like you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Girls like me?”

  “I thought maybe you were running away from something serious,” he told her.

  “I thought maybe you were like me…” his voice trailed off but he didn’t finish.

  “How do you know it’s not serious? Just because I go to a good college?”

  “You probably think you have it rough. School’s harder than you thought it would be, you’re not the smartest kid in class anymore, and you freaked out. Maybe you and some other spoiled girl got into one of those fights where you pull each other’s hair.”

  Caelyn felt suddenly calm as she watched him talking. She knew she was angry, but in a way, his fantasy of who she was and what she was running from had brought her back to earth. There was a reason for what she was doing—a real reason.

  “You’re so wrong,” she told him. “But I have nothing to prove to you.”

  “Why don’t you tell your mother where you really are?” he said. “What are you so scared of?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  He laughed. “Sure. Because you know that I’m right.”

  “Believe it if it makes you feel better about yourself.”

  “I believe it because I’ve seen enough kids like you.”

  “You know nothing about me, Elijah. Nothing.”

  He glanced at her. “I know more than you think. I grew up seeing kids like you around Boston—being jealous as hell because I didn’t have shit. I wished that I had parents who weren’t always drunk, throwing shit, hitting each other and hitting me and my brother. I would have loved to live in a nice house with a nice yard, get a decent car for my sixteenth birthday—or even just have enough food in the house so I wasn’t going to bed hungry most nights.”

  She swallowed. Maybe he’d gotten some things wrong—they weren’t that rich, for one thing. But he’d gotten a few things right. Her family did live in Avon, Connecticut, which was a very nice town and with a great school system and most of her friends had been quite wealthy. She’d never had to worry about having nice clothes, or spending money, or having enough food in the house.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t have those things,” she told him, and meant it. “But you don’t know anything about me or my life.”

  “I know enough. I know that you left an ivy-
league school that most people would kill to attend, and you’re lying to your parents about it. I know that you’re running away to Florida with hardly any money, and you don’t have the first clue what it’s going to take to survive on your own.”

  Caelyn licked her lips. “I have my reasons.”

  “Sure. Sure you do.”

  Her stomach was on fire now. He was painting her as some spoiled rich kid with a silver spoon in her mouth—some stupid, selfish girl being immature and silly. And he had no right to do so.

  “What makes you so great that you can sit there and judge me?” she said.

  “You’re lying to the police about your name. You’re running away too.”

  He nodded. “That’s right. Because I have no choice. I don’t have an education, I don’t have parents that give a shit. All I had was baggage that was going to drag me down.”

  “Those are just lame excuses,” she said, firing back, trying to hurt him the way that he’d hurt her. “Plenty of people come from poor homes and have parents that are alcoholics and they still do well in school and end up very successful.”

  “Sure they do. That’s what they tell people like you, so you don’t have to feel bad when you step over some drunk bum on your way to your cushy corporate job. Or when you see some guy getting cuffed and stuffed in a police cruiser, you can just feel superior because he didn’t pull himself up by his bootstraps.”

  “Maybe he should have. Maybe he could have. Maybe it’s the truth,” she replied.

  “But it’s not. If I had the same breaks that you’ve gotten, I’d be going to Cambridge University too. Only I wouldn’t cut and run.”

  She stared at him. He looked at her for a long moment and then turned his attention back to the road.

  “You don’t know anything,” was all she said. But she was starting to wonder if maybe he didn’t have a point after all.

  ***

  When they crossed into Washington D.C. later that day, she noticed that Elijah was starting to fade.

  Traffic had begun building up on the highway, and the slow driving was getting to him. He was restless, moving in his seat, shifting his weight, fidgeting with the radio.