Romance: Calmer Tides - A Suspense Romance Novel (Romance, Suspense Romance, Contemporary Romance Book 1)
Page 7
Eli looked straight down into his lap, his expression completely blank.
Abby leaned over, touching his left shoulder. “Are you… okay?” He didn't acknowledge her. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into tight, bloodless fists. He was shaking. His breathing was irregular, and his head twitched violently to the side.
Then, in an instant, he stood so suddenly that the whole table shuddered. His chair legs screeched as he pushed it back, and conversation at the tables around them cut off as people looked around. Their attention focusing solely on him.
“Sorry,” he said. He sounded robotic, as though he wasn't really there. “I just need some fresh air.” With that he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and threw three twenty-dollar bills on the table. Enough to cover everyone’s meals and leave the waitress a very good tip, too. His smile barely showed through. And then he left.
“What was that all about,” Eric finally said, after several long seconds of silence.
“Beats me,” Molly murmured.
They both looked at Abby for her opinion, but she was already standing. Already turning, already moving after him. She didn't really know why, or what she would say. It wasn’t as though she handled herself with any ease. She was probably the person least qualified to give advice, but she had to go after him. He needed someone.
“And where are you going?” Molly called after her.
Abby pushed the door open hard. She scanned the parking lot, searching for him. Hoping he hadn't already left.
Where could he—there.
He was slowly creeping into his old pickup truck. The engine roared to life, and Abby ran toward it.
She went to the passenger side window, and pounded an open hand against the glass. He looked up, startled, and quickly leaned over and unlocked the door. Abby climbed in. Inside the old Ford smelled of mold and stains, and there was trash piled up in the back. Eli looked at her blankly as the seconds ticked by. Then his gaze turned back toward his hands on the wheel.
Abby’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She had started this habit of doing things without thinking them through, and was beginning to hate it. No plan. No strategy. Just reckless abandon for whatever whim tugged on her heart.
But she could follow through for this, at least.
She laid her hand on Eli's shoulder. His body was cold, and she felt the tight muscle underneath. Tense and uneasy.
“You don't have to say anything,” she said, “but just know that whatever it is, we're here for you. Um. I mean, I’m here for you.”
They sat there for what seemed like an eternity, Abby never wavering, Eli never making a sound. Eventually, she felt she needed to go. Not because she wanted to leave him, but because she was worried Molly and Eric would leave without her, and she would be stranded here. She slowly started to shift her hand from his shoulder, now warm with heat from her hand, but Eli caught it. Holding it firmly in place.
When he finally turned, she could see his eyes were puffy and red, glassy with tears. Abby had never seen a man cry like this before. But it seemed only to confirm that he was the sort of man she’d built up in her head. It was so much better to show emotions, rather than bottle them up the way she did.
“I'd like to show you something,” Eli said. The sudden noise after so much silence surprised her, more than the words he’d actually said.
“I'm sorry.” He shook his head. “Can I show you something?”
A few seconds ticked by. “I’ll drive you home right after, promise.” He sounded genuine, but also completely vulnerable. It both terrified and flattered Abby that he'd be so open with her after knowing her for such a short time. The conviction in his eyes grew, and she nodded.
He nodded back, and let her hand go to grasp the wheel. She had no idea where they were going, and that, for some reason, was just fine.
ten
THE WINDING ROAD CRUNCHED beneath the Ford's rubber tires, but inside the cab it was silent. Darkness lay ahead of them, and behind them the town had long since receded into evening gloom.
Abby never thought she would be able to trust someone again, and although she trusted Eli, the feeling was new and had it limits, and a twinge of uncertainty still gnawed away at her stomach.
He hadn’t spoken since they left the restaurant. Never so much as twitched in her direction. His eyes stayed glued to the road. So she spent the majority of her time looking out the window. Watching the road pass too quickly to focus on any of it. Allowing her brain to wander and wonder about her life and where she was headed. If taken literally, she was headed into the Sherlock Mountains, where even in the last dying light of day the view was still spectacular. She glanced over at Eli, but he was still unfazed. He seemed focused. Determined. The security Abby felt around Eli was both comforting and chilling to her. It felt good to be close to someone, but terrifying too. Her nightmares were alive and well in her heart, and she remembered all too well what had happened the last time she let herself feel safe around someone.
They neared the pass at the very peak of the mountain, which had a sheer drop-off on Abby's right and a wall of rock to her left. As they approached, the truck began to slow, and Eli shifted the car gently onto the shoulder. Away from any potential traffic, though they hadn’t passed a single car on the way there.
Eli let out a long, shaking breath. And then he spoke.
“This… this is where it happened.” His voice broke, once, hoarse and dry. He still wasn’t looking at her. “This is where everything changed. I met Hanna, my wife, in college. She was a sophomore, and I was a freshman. I knew as soon as I saw her that she was the one for me.” His focus shifted back towards his hands on the steering wheel. “We met on the debate team. We were matched against each other in the beginning of the semester, arguing whether schools should incorporate longer breaks in between classes.” He chuckled. “Stupid right?” The smile faded. “Well, she didn't think so, and completely kicked my butt. It wasn't even close, and she always made sure I remembered it…. When... when she died... it was harder on me then most people realized. Except for Ricky, I think everyone around town actually thought I was handling her death pretty well—but I wasn't.”
Abby lay her hand gently back on his shoulder. “You don't have to tell me this if you don't want to.”
He shook his head, regaining his composure. “No, no I really do. I've been living with this secret for too long, and I can't handle it eating away at my insides any more.”
Abby went pale. What secret?
“A few months after her death I put a gun to my head.”
Abby placed her other hand on his knee, providing support the only way she knew how.
“I pulled the trigger, but the—but the safety was still on.” He laughed a little. “And I didn’t have the courage to do it again.”
Abby was crying too, now, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
“I really tried to enjoy life after that but... the hurt was too deep.” This time he didn’t even try to stop the tears.
“I tried again with a rope in my apartment, but the rope snapped.” He undid the top of his shirt, revealing his lower neck and upper chest. A scar spanned the width of it, as though the noose was still there.
Eli was a sobbing mess at this point, and so was Abby. His pain was so raw she could feel it inside her own body, as though she had experienced it right alongside him. Or maybe it was just a manifestation of her own pain. She tightened her grip on him.
“I felt so useless!” he screamed, not even attempting to control his voice. “I couldn't control her fate, and then I couldn't control my own, either! I got completely wasted at a bar, and decided to drive home, except I didn’t drive home. I came up here, to think and pray, to try and make sense of it all. And that's when it happened. There was a huge storm coming up the coast, and visibility was terrible. I should have pulled over. I shouldn’t have been driving at all, drunk as I was.” Eli rubbed at his chest. “I veered into oncoming traffic. A family,
a young couple and their son, was just trying to get home and I—I ran them off the road. Their car broke right through the barrier up there,” he pointed to a spot about 20 feet in front of them, “and they went hurtling over the edge. The adrenaline sobered me up enough to make me realize what I'd just done, and it gave me the strength to save the very lives I’d almost taken.” Eli's tears had slowed, and his head fell down towards his lap. “Next thing I know, everyone is calling me a hero. Saying I 'saved' lives... but I didn't. I'm the one who almost killed them. I'm the reason poor Maggie almost lost her leg, and has to use a cane. I'm the reason little Billy wakes up haunted by nightmares! It's me, it's my fault!”
Eli collapsed onto the steering wheel and began once again to sob. The sound of it was like nothing Abby had heard before. A cry so deep, so full of hurt and self-loathing that it nearly pulled her back into the pit she’d so laboriously pulled herself free of.
Slowly, she gathered her strength, not just for herself but for him, too. “Eli… it's not your fault.”
“What are you taking about, of course it is. I almost killed those poor innocent people.” His tone was angry, but when he looked up there was only shame on his face. He was angry with himself—and it was destroying him.
As if any of us are ‘innocent’, Abby thought.
Because even if he’d almost killed that family, he’d also saved them. He hadn’t meant to harm them, and he wasn’t a drunk, just a broken man trying desperately to cope with an unbearable pain. And Abby couldn’t judge him for that, not with her own mistakes so fresh in her mind. If anything, it only made her more sympathetic, since she knew firsthand what he was feeling and, more importantly, what he needed.
She placed her hand on his back, and began soothingly rubbing it back and forth.
“I forgive you Eli,” she said quietly. She had no idea where the words were coming from, but said them nonetheless. “I know what it's like to lose something, to feel broken and betrayed. Alone and misunderstood. To be surrounded by a sea of people and feel you can't trust any of them. People make mistakes, and you can't predict what they’ll do, but we have to—now more than ever we need to trust other people, and you’ve just trusted me. You can always trust me, Eli. And I will always be here for you.”
* * * * *
And she meant it, Eli could tell. Just looking at her filled him with hope. Hope that one day he would wake up without this pain, without this guilt, without this constant feeling of needing to make up for the mistakes of his past.
Thoughtlessly, he lurched into her arms. This woman was safe, in a world consumed with hurt; she was safe. And for a moment, just a moment, he could forget his terrible past. Pressed against her, he could almost reach out and grab the possibility of the future. They sat there at the top of the mountain, surrounded by darkness, heartbeats thudding against one another’s ribs. He could feel them become one. He never wanted to let her go. He would hold onto this moment for as long he could.
* * * * *
That morning, getting ready with Molly, Abby never would have expected to find herself here. It wasn’t even a terrible turn of events. This experience was worth more to her than a thousand perfect dates, because it showed her Eli’s true nature and how he acted in his weakest state, and it proved he felt comfortable enough to trust her with that side of himself. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run, or get as close to him as she physically could.
He pulled back slightly, his face now directly in front of hers. Inches apart. She could feel his warm breath on her face and her heart quickened.
She looked into his eyes and found them already looking back into hers. Focused, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
His eyes dropped to her lips, and still she didn't move.
He slowly eased closer, as though drawn by some magnetic pull. Abby tilted her head, eyes closed. Heart open.
She could sense his lips were mere millimeters away from hers. Confident. Steady.
This is it, she thought. I want this... don't I?
No, her head answered. Not yet.
She pulled away at the last possible moment, unable to continue, instantly extinguishing the moment. She opened her eyes, but Eli wasn’t hurt, just confused. And then a faint smile slipped over his face.
“I'm sorry, I—I'm just not ready,” she said. “Not yet.”
Eli laid his hands on either side of her head, directing her attention toward him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Please, don't ever let me do anything that you aren't ready for, or don't want to do.” There were no expectations in his voice, or ulterior motives. No lies or manipulation. Simply trust, and respect for her boundaries. Nothing more, nothing less. It made Abby feel safe. “Promise?” he asked.
She nodded. “Promise.”
She smiled.
He laid his hands back on the steering wheel. But as he disengaged the emergency brake, Abby opened her mouth to say one last thing.
“Eli?”
He stopped completely, and turned toward her.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
* * * * *
The ride back was the same as the ride out: silence. But now, instead of nervous anticipation, the truck was filled with exhilaration. Eli dropped her off at Melody’s, even walking her to the door, but he didn’t try for anything more than a simple goodbye and a lifted hand.
Abby silently made her way upstairs and slipped into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Once she was done she headed straight for her bed, and held nothing back as she crashed into its warmth and security. But even completely drained, she couldn't fall asleep. The events of the past few hours replayed again and again in her head. But eventually her exhaustion proved too much, and she slipped into a deep sleep. And for the first time in a long time, she was excited for tomorrow.
Interlude three
Six Months Ago.
TUCKER GLARED AT HER. Menacing, hunched over, malice in his eyes.
“Please,” she said, “you're scaring me.”
No answer.
“Tucker, please. I don't know what's wrong, but we can work it out, just—”
“Shut up!” he shouted. Terror pierced Abby's soul. She had never seen him like this, never seen anyone like this; it was though he had been taken over by some invisible force. Slowly, she crept backward. He matched her step for step.
“Tucker.” Her voice was only a whimper, now. “Please.”
And then she ran.
Bolting back through kitchen towards the front door, her only other means of escape. Her feet pounded furiously against the wooden floor. Faster, faster. She could see the door. Tucker was right behind her, but she didn’t look back.
Her fingers were on the handle when he grabbed her. Powerful hands crushed against her neck and arm, spinning her around until they were face-to-face.
“What are you doing, Tucker?” she cried out. Half begging, half sobbing.
“Shut up. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be!”
He threw her against the opposite wall. The collision sent a shock of searing pain down her spine. Abby tried to yell, but he’d bruised her windpipe, and all that came out was a pained wheeze.
Tucker grabbed at her shirt and pulled down forcefully. The collar cut into the back of Abby's neck as the stitching strained.
Abby reached for his eyes, fingers landing just below his right. He yelled, but her struggle only seemed to intensify his anger, and his strength. He grabbed her hand and pinned it forcefully against the wall.
“It's been almost a year of dating, and you still haven't put out,” He hissed in her ear.
“Tucker, please,” she gasped, but even as she forced it out, she knew it would do no good. Tucker was too strong, and there was no use fighting him….
Behind his head, she saw a picture of her family that her parents had framed and given to her as a present. She thought it looked stupid, but had hung it up anyway. Now it sat inches from her hand, and if she could just reach it....
She broke free, and sprinted for the back door.
Tucker, stunned, regained his composure and followed. Blood poured from his face, streaming into his eyes; he stumbled as he came after her. But he was still coming. Abby threw a lamp at him, and he stumbled again, grabbing at the curtains to catch himself. Instead he only pulled them down, crashing to the floor. The curtains fell onto a candle on the little table in the living room, and a long tongue of flame immediately flared to life.
Tucker scrambled to his feet, and followed Abby to the back door. She was halfway out when his hands locked in her hair, dragging her back in so forcefully that the back of her head slammed into the wall behind the door.
A bright flash exploded in front of her eyes.
And then darkness.
eleven
ELI WOKE FEELING ODDLY AT PEACE. Lighter, even. As though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He’d never meant to tell anyone what really happened, but with Abby the truth had just come pouring out. As though something in him recognized, instinctively, that she was safe. And suddenly he was able to share a burden that had finally become too great to bear alone. He needed to see her again. He couldn't get her face out of his head. Last night had been like a dream, and he still didn’t want to wake up.
Hopefully he hadn't scared her too much. His past was enough to cause him to stammer; it was a lot to take in, especially taken with the sudden turn toward romance. He wanted to see her and explain. Wanted to know what she thought, and prayed she’d felt the same pull he had.
But it would have to wait. At least for a day. Today he had another, urgent business—business that was about three years overdue.