Shed some Light

by Amber Naralim

  “Ya are still alive and I know damned well that neither of them, would want ya sitting here wasting away. So knock it the fuck off. Eat something. Take a shower, because, ya smell awful. Hunting these things is not the only thing left to ya!” Reese cried, tears stinging his eyes.

  Her eyebrows knit together and Ellie took in a deep breath. She stared at him for a long time. Her eyes roved over his face, his high cheekbones, and glittering blue eyes. She watched as a bead of water slid over the side of his scruffy cheek. Reese had a permanent five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and chin. The water dripped over his full, sensual lips. His long hair was wet, smoothed back out of his handsome face.

  His chest was bare. Water sparkled on his broad, sculpted shoulders. The ends of his dark, wet hair brushed the tops of them. Ellie reached out and ran her fingertips over the mound of shiny pink scar tissue inches above his right nipple. It was the only thing that marred the perfection of his skin.

  Light glinting from his dancing dog tags drew her eyes further down his naked chest. His hand slid from her chin up the left side of her face. Reese hoped to see the desire looking at him used to bring to her eyes. Hell, even the shame that used to steal over her face when she realized it he would give anything for. Instead, her eyes were dead. The only thing he saw in them was sorrow and loss. Tears dripped from his eyes. Reese fought to breathe. He blinked at her, plastering his lips together in a thin, straight line.

  Reese couldn't hold back anymore. The pain was too much. His chest heaved and sobs tore out of his throat. Loneliness was eating away at him. He needed her. He loved her. Ellie was supposed to love him. He stared into her face. Reese thought about leaving her. He couldn't do it. Ellie was all he had left. Reese was all she had left.

  He threw his arms around her. Reese held her, his tears falling on her hair, on the side of her cheek. It was gone. Her heart burned in that fire right along with them. What was the point of Vincent dying to save her, if there was nothing left to save? Her body was alive, but Ellie died in that fire.

  Reese pulled back opening his mouth to speak, but only sobs escaped him. Ellie looked up into Reese's weeping face. He touched his other hand to her cheek. She wanted to hate him. Ellie wanted to be so angry for stopping her. The look on Reese’s face, in his eyes, made it so she couldn't. He was right. Vincent didn't just belong to her. Reese’s eyes were so sad. His hands shook when he touched her.

  “Ya can't leave me, Ellie,” he begged. “I got nothing else. I need ya,” Reese reminded her, as he slid his thumb gently over the smoothness of her face.

  Ellie’s eyes flicked back to his and for the first time in weeks, he saw something there. Tears glistened in her eyes. He watched as a fat, crystalline drop rolled onto her pale cheek. She hadn’t cried when it was over. When the fire finally burned itself out and they were both gone. Ellie hadn't cried as she sifted through the ashes, looking for even the smallest sliver of bone left over from the conflagration. Throughout all of it, she had not cried, not once.

  Ellie took in a shaking breath and let out a shoulder-moving sob. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Her mouth grimacing, she cried so loud that it sounded more like screams. Reese slid his arms around her shoulders and pulled her down with him onto the thick carpeted floor. Reese wrapped his feverishly warm arms around her back, pulling her to him rocking back and forth. Ellie laid her face against his naked chest and sobbed against him.

  Her fingers clawed into his arms, trying to draw him closer to her. Her chest heaved. Her body wracked with her wailing. Reese laid his cheek against the top of her head, against the silk of her blond hair. In the circle of one another’s arms, they let themselves feel it for the first time. Together they wept for what was done, for what they lost and for a love that neither one was sure they would ever feel again. The trick to second chances is that you have to take them.

  The End

  About the author

  Amber Naralim lives in Ohio with her husband, three children, and a feisty turtle. She spends her days painting and working hard to share the beautiful ribbon of words that swirl in her head with all of you.

  Visit her website at http://ambernaralim.com

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  Or contact her on Twitter at @Naralim33

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  Or at her email naralim3@yahoo.com

  Look for Safe and Sound the fourth book in the Monsters series coming November 2017.