by Ben Cass
Ellie knew the shielding had not come soon enough. Blood flowed off of Doyle’s back and onto her arm. She fought to stay conscious, but the stress of her body conspired against her, and the last thing she saw before passing out was the house burn to the ground, even as fire trucks began arriving.
Chapter Nine
When Ellie came to, she found herself in the most comfortable bed she had ever been in. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. Looking around, she realized she was not in her own room. The previous night came flooding back into her memory—the flames, the smell of wood burning and crumbling.
Doyle saving her, saying he’d already saved her sister.
She bolted upright, trying to clamber out of the bed. “Jen? Jen!! Jen, where are you?”
A tall woman came hurrying into the room, much taller than any girl Ellie had ever personally seen. She moved so gracefully it momentarily made Ellie jealous. “Where’s my sister?” Ellie asked. Her throat felt slightly sore and scratchy, as if she’d screamed nonstop for hours. Her muscles were aching slightly, but no more than after playing volleyball for a while, as she often did in the summer.
The woman’s expression was friendly and welcoming, her skin tone different but still very familiar. Right now, Ellie couldn’t place it. Her white tank top and lavender skirt hugged her figure; the outfit looked hand-sewn. A thin line of sequins ran down the sides of the skirt, catching the light as the fabric moved. A silver necklace hung around her neck, dipping down into her cleavage. Ellie couldn’t quite see the bottom of the jewelry, but it looked like there was a small charm on it. An animal of some kind? She couldn’t tell.
The woman spoke. “She is still at the hospital, but they are confident she will be fine. She has a bump on the head and inhaled too much smoke. Alistair managed to get her out relatively unharmed.”
The woman took a cup of water off the bedside table and handed it to Ellie, who took it thankfully and drank. “Your stepsister should be released tomorrow or the next day. Given all she has gone through recently, they decided to keep her for observation tonight, and possibly the next night as well. Fortunately, you were much better off. The doctors gave you a mild sedative to help you rest and I brought you here.” Her voice was proper yet soothing, with the tiniest hint of a lilting accent. British....no, not quite, but very similar. Ellie gave up, as thinking was too difficult right now. The woman sat on the bed next to her, smoothing Ellie’s hair back and laying a hand across her forehead.
“No fever. That is good. How do you feel, dove?”
“I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to be rude, but who the hell are you?” Ellie felt like she should know this woman, but knew they’d never met before.
The woman smiled at her, a dazzling expression that reached deep inside you and made you feel warm and happy. Ellie had seen that smile before, but didn’t know where. “You do not remember anything, do you?” Ellie shook her head.
“No. I have no clue where I am. I don’t even know what time it is. The last thing I remember is the explosion and Coach covering me with his body.” Ellie examined the room with her eyes, taking it in. It was very plain and unadorned; the bed, a dresser, and a small couch were the only pieces of furniture. Warm sunlight poured in through the windows; judging by the light and the angle of the rays, she determined it must be mid-morning. She touched the bedding, which, while soft and comfortable, was a plain gray color, and shook her head, frowning. “Well, wherever I am, this person either has absolutely no decorating sense or simply doesn’t care.”
The other woman grimaced slightly. “A little bit of both, I fear. My brother has never had much interest in making a house a home. I shuddered when I saw the guest rooms.” She sighed. “I really must find him a woman to marry. For now, I shall have to settle for redecorating it myself. Strictly on a temporary basis, of course.” She gave a conspiratorial wink and grin.
Ellie thought about what the woman just said. “Your brother?” She stared at the woman; suddenly, her brain decided to return to full speed and it all clicked together. She finally recognized the resemblance that had tickled at her brain momentarily. The hair, the complexion, the twinkle in the hazel eyes. “You’re Coach Doyle’s sister, aren’t you?”
“I am indeed,” the woman replied, placing a hand over her heart and bowing her head slightly. “His twin sister, to be more precise. My name is Kira.” She offered a handshake, and Ellie took it. “It is certainly a delight to meet you. Well, meet you again. You were not exactly conscious when I brought you here, but I did talk to you the entire way.” A twinkle seemed to always dance in her eyes, much like her brother. Ellie doubted this woman was ever sad for long. She felt completely relaxed and safe with her, the same way she felt with Jen and, surprisingly, Doyle.
“Well, that explains a lot,” said Ellie. “I didn’t even think about him having a sister.”
Kira’s eyes sparkled in amusement, although her face didn’t show it. “Of course not. You were far too busy admiring him, no doubt.”
Ellie flushed. “How did you know? And why am I in Coach’s bed and not a guest room?” She looked around the room again, taking it all in. Doyle’s bedroom; somehow, it looked nothing like she had imagined his room to look. She’d imagined weight sets, sports equipment, maybe a big screen television and posters of bikini-clad models. But a room with a bed—albeit a large one—a small couch, and absolutely no color or decor to speak of? Definitely not what she would have expected.
Kira laughed lightly and waved a hand idly, interrupting her thoughts. “Just a lucky guess. He always was too attractive for his own good, that scar notwithstanding.” She gently bumped Ellie’s shoulder with her own, winking at her. Ellie caught a slightly fruity scent. She recognized that particular shampoo, but couldn’t remember the name. She knew Abby liked using it. “I informed my brother you would be occupying his bed for the moment, and he would be taking the couch when he comes back. I figured you have earned a comfortable rest, what with all you have gone through recently.”
“How’s Coach doing?” asked Ellie, remembering him being blasted with glass and wood, and the blood that had flowed out of his back. And that gash on his arm! She hoped he wasn’t laid up in the hospital, too.
Kira looked a little less happy. “He is...in better condition than he has any right to be, but he did take a lot of damage from the debris. He had pieces of glass and shards of wood stuck all over his back. Lots of cuts and gashes to go along with them, and some vicious bruising on his ribs too, unfortunately. He said he was lucky to not break any ribs with the way he hit those concrete steps, although I am certain he actually broke at least one, and probably several, no matter what he tries to tell me. He will get through it, though. He always does.”
To her own dismay, Ellie’s control suddenly broke and the tears came flooding out. Kira’s arms immediately enveloped her. “Oh, my dove, there is no need to cry. He will be fine, really. Just try to avoid patting him on the back or squeezing him for a while.”
“That’s not it,” Ellie sobbed, having trouble controlling her breathing. “My parents....they...died...in a...house...fire...” She felt her head being pressed against Kira’s chest. The other woman’s heartbeat seemed the most comforting sound in the world.
“Let it out, love,” she soothed. “You will feel better very soon, I promise.”
“It...almost...happened...again,” Ellie got the words out and her sobbing increased. Kira sat there, stroking her hair, rocking Ellie like she would a troubled infant. She hummed softly, a wordless tune meant to soothe. Ellie clung to her like she would have to her own sister.
After Ellie had cried out what felt like every drop of moisture in her body, Kira finally spoke, her voice very soft and comforting. “It did not happen again, though.”
“It’s just...the memories,” Ellie said. “I thought they were gone, but now...” She shook her head, trying to banish the unwelcome thoughts. “Jen took me to the movies that night. The boy I liked didn’t ask me to the scho
ol dance, and she decided I needed a girls’ night out.”
“Every woman needs a girls’ night from time to time,” Kira agreed, still stroking Ellie’s hair.
“We got home close to three in the morning; it was the latest I’d ever been up, and I was sure my parents were going to be angry with Jen, and then...” She started crying again. Apparently there was still some moisture left in her body. “Then we came back and saw the flashing lights and the remains of the house. There were still some flames going. We got out of the car, and when I saw...saw the bodies on the ground, covered in sheets...” Her stomach rolled, and she retched several times. Nothing came out, fortunately, but Ellie’s intestines didn’t really seem to care that there was nothing to offer as sacrifice. They continued trying anyway.
To Ellie’s surprise, Kira didn’t so much as move a muscle. She just continued to hold her through the dry-heaving. Ellie thought back to her therapist’s advice: replace that image with a happy thought. She tried, but it was difficult to do. After several minutes, she was able to latch onto her favorite memory: the day her parents first brought Jen into the house. Jen had been so wide-eyed at everything, like she’d never seen televisions or furniture or electricity before.
Then again, with her amnesia, she basically hadn’t.
The memory of Jen sitting down to read a book to Ellie ran through her mind. Jen had been so patient with her, reading the same book four times in a row that night. She must have been going crazy, but never showed it. She even curled up in bed next to Ellie and held her until they both fell asleep.
“You have gone through a tragedy nobody ever should,” Kira said tenderly, breaking into Ellie’s reverie. “Losing your parents is...heartbreaking.” Her voice caught for a moment. It sounded like she was talking from personal experience. “But remember this: no matter what has happened, both years ago and in the last few days, you are alive and your sister is alive. And as long as my bullheaded brother is around, you are both safer than you have ever been before. He is many things, but chief amongst them, he is a loyal protector.”
Kira rubbed Ellie’s back, her strong fingers applying pressure to some muscle knots. Ellie took a deep breath, held it, and slowly released it. She felt better, but her emotions were still like shirts twisting on a laundry line at the mercy of the wind.
“I’m the bullheaded twin?” came Doyle’s surprised voice. “Since when?” Kira’s head jerked up and to the side, clearly surprised by his arrival. Ellie leaned forward and watched a shirtless Doyle walk through the doorway and head straight for his closet, which was about twenty feet from Ellie; she hadn’t realized the true size of the room, but now saw it was larger than most bedrooms she’d seen. Maybe the coach had knocked some walls down and created one giant bedroom?
She stole another glance at Doyle as he walked by her. Ellie caught herself counting those abs—Six? Eight? So many!—but immediately felt guilty. He was obviously badly hurt, and he’d gotten that way from saving the lives of the Aston sisters. She forced herself to look past the body and examine the injuries.
She could see the vicious gash on his bicep, which was not stitched up; dried blood formed a thin crust all along it. He turned into the closet, and Ellie’s eyes popped at the dozens of bandages covering him. She couldn’t even count how many there were. It looked almost like every inch of his back was covered by a bandage. As Kira had said, there was a rather nasty bruise on the left side of his rib cage. It looked about eight inches long, at the minimum, and several inches wide. Ellie agreed with his twin: there was no way he didn’t have broken ribs. His face was surprisingly cheerful, though his brow creased with a hint of worry.
“What are you doing here?” asked Kira. The tone of her voice could have taught Antarctica a thing or two about coldness. Ellie could feel tension coming through Kira’s body, her muscles quivering as though ready to pounce and attack her brother. “You may have refused stitches for your arm and all those wounds, but you are still supposed to be at the hospital, recovering.” Her emphasis on the last word was not lost on Ellie, nor, given the way his mouth twitched, on Doyle.
Doyle looked pointedly at Ellie, but Kira waved dismissively. “I have the situation under control, thank you. I daresay I am better suited to care for a young woman than you are.” Kira glanced at his body and puckered her mouth. “At least have the decency to put a shirt on. It is not proper for you to walk around half-naked when a young lady is present. She does not need to be exposed to...that.” Kira gestured at him, waving her hand up and down, a slight frown on her mouth. Ellie had a sudden urge to giggle; the scolding sounded like something her mother would have said. She’d always spoken in a very proper style, almost identical to Kira’s. The resemblance was rather eerie, actually, now that she thought about it.
“That’s why I went to the closet, Kira,” Doyle replied quietly, rolling his eyes. Ellie heard the long-suffering tone and felt another rush of warmth. She often sounded the same when responding to Jen’s nagging. She found it funny to realize that, despite his physique, charm, and tendency to save lives, Coach Doyle was just an ordinary person like her, with an overprotective sibling.
Doyle picked out what looked like a silk shirt, black with pink flowers on it. Not the kind of shirt Ellie would have pictured him owning, honestly. He shouldered into it, wincing slightly. Ellie even saw him bite his lip in pain, although he hid it well. He had to slowly ease the shirt over his right arm, avoiding the still-bloodied gash. Kira looked at Ellie, who nodded. Kira squeezed Ellie’s hands, then went over to the walk-in closet and helped Doyle button the shirt up, lightly slapping his fingers away when he tried to stop her.
“Do you realize how lucky you all were?” she whispered, her mouth barely moving, but Ellie found she could still hear clearly, as if they were sitting next to her and talking loudly, even though they were on the other side of the room. “If Theonus hadn’t been there...”
Doyle gave her a sharp glance, and she bit off her sentence in the middle. Ellie saw her impression of Kira’s height had been correct: Kira was almost as tall as her brother, which would put her near or over six and a half feet. How tall is Doyle, anyway? She knew he was what her mother would have termed “freakishly ginormous”; Ellie’d seen him duck to walk through doors at school. Ellie, being rather short herself, had a difficult time estimating the height of giants. As far as she was concerned, he was as far off the ground as the peak of Mount Everest.
Kira continued her whisper, “No matter everything else you can do, you are not invulnerable, you know.”
“And what would you have had me do, Kira?” Doyle whispered back, his lips moving even less than his sister’s had. How am I able to hear them? “Sit back and watch?”
Kira sighed, finishing up the buttons. “Of course not. I just worry about you.”
“How are you feeling, Elowyn?” asked Doyle, raising his voice and stepping around Kira, but not before giving his twin an affectionate squeeze on her arm. He sat on the bed next to Ellie. “Don’t tell me you’re crying on my account.”
Ellie wiped her eyes. “Not really, but...yeah, sort of, I guess.”
“And why is that?”
“Because if I hadn’t tried to get that box of stuff, we could’ve made it out in plenty of time.” To her surprise, Doyle reached out and took her face in his hand. Despite the size and obvious strength of it, she could feel the tenderness in his touch.
“Those were more valuable to you than anything, perhaps even your own life. I can’t say I agree with you, but I don’t blame you for it,” he said.
“Really?” Ellie tried to smile through her tears, which were threatening to start up again. Doyle gently wiped her eyes for her.
“Absolutely,” he said gently. “Which reminds me...” He reached down slowly, pulling a box from underneath the chair that sat next to the bed. It was the pictures he had carried out with her. “I thought you’d like to know this survived.” He set it on the seat and smiled at her. He suddenly leaned over an
d kissed her cheek, making her gasp in surprise. She felt like her face was suddenly on fire. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.”
“As will you, provided you leave right now and go rest,” said Kira, coming up behind him and lightly poking his shoulder. “I think you have embarrassed the poor woman enough for one day.” Woman? Ellie liked the sound of that.
Doyle squeezed Ellie’s hand and bounced off the bed, grimacing and yelping involuntarily as he did. He grabbed his rib cage, muttering some particularly nasty words under his breath, making Ellie’s eyes go wide. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or pretend she hadn’t heard him.
“Watch your language! There is a young lady present!” his twin scolded, her index finger jabbing at him. Doyle ignored her admonition and walked away.
Ellie called out after him. “Hey, Coach?”
He stopped in the doorway and turned around. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked. Ellie saw Kira nod with approval when he said ma’am.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything, but how did you know our house was on fire?” She frowned. “And how did you just happen to be there when Jen was jogging down Primrose?”
He nodded. “That’s a fair question.” He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “The truth is, ever since your sister was mugged, I’ve had my dog staking out your house and keeping an eye on her. If anything happens, he barks really loudly to get my attention, and I magically appear to save the day.”
Ellie stared at him for a second before he winked at her and left the room. “Jackass,” she grumbled. When Kira’s eyebrow rose, Ellie blushed again. “Sorry,” she said to Doyle’s sister. “I didn’t mean that.”
