Cole’s jaw worked. “I never said I didn’t want to be with you, Elise.” His focus moved between us. “I think it’s pretty damn obvious that I do. And, no, if I’m being honest, I don’t want you with anyone else.”
Well, that shut me up. But what did he mean? He wanted to be with me? But he couldn’t be with me? Was he asking me to wait for him?
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Elise, I don’t want to, but I need to go.” The fight left his eyes, and I hated it. I needed him to fight. “It’s a good thing I’m leaving.”
I willfully played dumb. “Of course it is. You’re protecting your family.”
Cole shook his head, looking miserable. “It’s a good thing for you I have to go.”
“No. It’s not.” It felt like the worst thing for me, but I couldn’t admit that. I swallowed the sudden thickness in my throat and bulldozed ahead. “Will you come back?”
He closed his eyes, looking pained. “Of course, I’ll come back.” The way his voice dropped stoked my doubts. Cole started to push himself off me, and I gripped his shoulders.
“Wait. When?”
He opened his eyes and gave me a grim smile. “When’s your birthday?”
I hesitated, not liking where this was going. “July tenth. But that’s too far from now.”
He nodded, the grin stamped on his mouth didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, especially since I’m talking about your eighteenth. Not your seventeenth.”
My brows leapt, and I tightened my grip on his sweater. “That’s not funny.”
Cole shook his head. “I’m not kidding. If I’ve learned anything today, it’s that I can’t be around you without touching you, so I need to put some distance between us for a little while.”
Eighteen months without seeing Cole? Even before today, I would have flinched at that thought. But now? Now, it sliced me in two.
“You don’t want to do that,” I pushed.
Sadness tinged his eyes. He brought his hand to my cheek and caressed me with his thumb. “You’re right. I don’t. But I will.”
“I won’t wait.” I wanted to punish him. And wanted it to be the truth, but I suspected it wasn’t. Any of the guys at school who would ask me out would now have to be measured against Cole Whitehurst, and I knew without a doubt they’d come up short.
And maybe I’d already held him in mind. My basis for comparison for every boy I encountered. No one else made me feel the way he did. Feel as much as he did. Never in my life. He lit me up. He wore me out. He made me angry and hungry and proud. Who else could do that?
But my aim was true, and my words made Cole wince. Just a little. “I wouldn’t ask you to wait for me.” His voice dipped low, making me regret my hurtful barb. “But I’m asking you to wait until you’re older before you give yourself to someone.”
Give myself? He made me sound like… like some kind of treasure.
Like I needed to be treasured first. And I’ll be damned if he hadn’t just ensured my virginity for years to come because it wasn’t as if any of the guys at Comeaux High School would be worthy of a treasure. Cole probably knew I wouldn’t be able to open my legs for another boy without thinking about him and his request. And that made me mad and molten all at once.
He was watching me closely, but I hadn’t said a word. What could I say? “Yes, I’ll wait. Now that you’ve ruined me for anyone else”? I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. But I also wasn’t going to throw his words in his face either.
Cole leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, his weight pressing against the inseam of my jeans again, sending a stream of invisible sparks along the centerline of my body between my lips and my now-destined-to-remain-virginal lady parts.
I waited for his tongue to come inside again and join mine, but he drew back instead, leaving me breathless and aching all over again.
His eyes held mine, the look on his face suddenly hopeful. “Can you do that for me?”
It was the look of hope that nearly had my lip trembling. But if I gave him that promise, I’d have nothing in return. He was about to walk away from me.
I took a steadying breath and held it until I was sure my voice wouldn’t shake. “You sure do ask for a lot.” The words came out so casual, I watched the corners of Cole’s mouth fight for a good three seconds before his chuckle broke free.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “You make a good point. Still, I’m noting for the record that you didn’t say no.”
“And I’m noting for the record that I didn’t say yes.”
His smile slipped just a little, and I marked that as my victory, small though it was.
I watched, then, as his smile slowly melted until we were just eye to eye, our bodies still pressed snugly together, a world of obstacles between us.
“This is when I say goodbye.” He looked so sad I couldn’t even blame him for having all the power and being so damn honorable.
I ignored the panic rising in my chest. “Can I give you one more kiss for the road?”
His smile returned, and his brow arched. “Asking permission now? That’s not like you.”
Oh, man. Did he ever know how to piss me off. And he loved it. So, he couldn’t have been surprised when I crunched up and slammed his mouth with mine. He grunted at the impact, but I knew it wasn’t because I’d hurt him. Cole’s arms came around me, arching my back and lifting me off the cushion as our kiss deepened. I held onto him as if my life depended on it, and I wasn’t about to be the first to let go. If he was going to leave me — for eighteen months or forever — he was going to have to be the one to pull back. And the way he was kissing me now, I honestly didn’t know if he could. We might keep kissing for hours.
That was my plan anyway. Until light fell on us, and I pulled back with a gasp.
I thought he’d notice. Turn around and see what I was seeing. But he was in too deep, moving to my neck to continue drowning me in his kiss. I gripped him by the shoulders and shook him.
“Cole! That light,” I panted, breathless now from fear instead of passion. “Isn’t that your parents’ room?”
Chapter 14
COLE
I was kissing her goodbye. Kissing her — I hoped — better than any high school boy ever could. Giving her a kiss that could hold her over until she turned eighteen. Because then I wouldn’t feel like a criminal. Like a pervert.
But I was kissing her, too, for myself. Memorizing her taste. The texture of her lips. The eagerness of her tongue. I was tucking these treasures away to take them out later, one at a time, and savor them.
I had no idea what the next year and a half would bring. Maybe it was crazy to even think about a future that included Elise. But one thing was sure. I couldn’t have her now. And I definitely needed to put some distance between us for both our sakes. And, yeah, maybe after tonight we’d go our separate ways and never look back. But if Mom and Ava were coming to live with me in New Orleans, it wasn’t as if I’d be going out every night like a frat boy. And kissing Elise made the thought of any other girl seem lukewarm and empty.
She was so real.
The way she fought me. The way she demanded her due. I loved it. Even the way she was shaking my shoulder, pulling me from her neck…
“Dammit, Cole. Look!” I jerked my head up as Elise pushed me off her. “Your parents are awake.”
I whipped around and saw the light in their bedroom window.
“Fuck.”
“Do you think they heard us?” Elise sat up with me, her hand on my shoulder.
“No,” I muttered, certain in the pit of my stomach that the light on in my parents’ room had nothing to do with us.
“Why are they—”
“Shh.” I held up a hand to silence her, and for once in Elise’s life, she didn’t argue. Sounds fell from the second floor. Voices. I couldn’t make out the words.
Beside me, Elise sucked in a tiny breath.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“They’re arguing.”
At her words, I shot to my feet, ready to sprint into the house. I didn’t even get two paces in when Elise grabbed me by the wrist.
“Wait!” she hissed. “I’m coming with you.”
I spun on her. “You are not. I’m not letting you near him.” I pointed to the guesthouse. “Get inside where you’ll be safe.”
Instead of letting go and retreating like I wanted her to, Elise shook her head. “But I—”
“Elise, you know what he’s like. I’ve got to get Mom and Ava out of here, and I can’t do that if I’m worried about you—”
“Someone was upstairs,” she said, her eyes wide now, “when I packed your mom’s bag. Was it you?”
“What?” I felt my brows pinch. What the hell was she talking about? “No. What do you mean?”
Her hand around my wrist tightened. “When I was coming out of your parents’ room, I heard something in the hall. When I checked, it was empty, but someone closed your bedroom door.” Fear etched her eyes. “Cole, what if your father saw me?”
In one move, I turned and shook off Elise’s hand. I bolted toward the house, clearing one empty lounger and flying up the porch steps. I heard her behind me, close, and faster on my heels than I thought she’d be, so when I made it to the kitchen door, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed my way inside and slammed and locked the door behind me.
For as long as I live, I’ll never forget the look of outrage on Elise Cormier’s face through that door pane. I only saw it for a moment before I turned to race across the house, but a moment was enough. She was pissed, and I’d be paying for it later.
I cleared the kitchen, thinking it would probably be the last I saw of her for months. I hoped so, anyway. I was going to have to physically remove my mother and sister from the house. Right now. Against my father’s wishes. I’d have to fight him.
And I didn’t want Elise anywhere near that.
“DON’T LIE TO ME, ABIGAIL!” My father’s roar ripped through the house, stripping all thought from my mind.
I reached the bottom of the stairs. “Mom!”
“Cole?” My mother’s pinched cry, muffled and distant, fell on my ears. I don’t remember climbing the stairs. I wasn’t even sure my feet touched any. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ava’s bedroom door open as I slammed my shoulder against my parents’ door. It gave barely a rattle.
“Mom?” I called, aware that Ava had started to sob at her end of the hall. My pulse drummed in my ears. How could I break the door down?
“It’s my fault,” I heard my mother cry. “Please don’t hurt him, Garrett.”
“I’ll never let you go, Abigail,” my father growled. “Not ever.”
The gun.
If I fired at the lock, maybe I could kick to door in. It worked on TV. Turning to my room, I thanked God, with almost fervent gratitude, that I’d carried down Ava’s bags first and my suitcase was still in the house. On my bed. Right where I’d left it.
My hands on it shook, and the zipper stuck.
“W-we were just g-going for a few days. Please, Garrett.”
I heard Mom choke on her sobs as I finally opened the damn suitcase. My hands riffled through the clothes. Whenever I came home, I always kept the gun at the bottom. Under my shoes. All the way to the right.
But it wasn’t there.
“Are you going to do something about that?” Ava now stood in my open door fully dressed and in her coat, clutching herself, her face wet.
I tossed out my shoes. No gun. Running my hands along the bottom, I tried to shake off the dread that poured into my stomach.
“It’s here,” I muttered to myself. “It has to be here.”
“Don’t do this, Garrett, please.”
“Cole? Can you hear her?” Ava’s voice climbed even as her words pinched. “She sounds frightened.”
I threw jeans and t-shirts in every direction, my breath coming in short spasms. “Fuck… fuck!”
Ava stepped closer. “What? What’s wrong?” I couldn’t spare her a glance. In one motion, I upended the suitcase onto my bed, the rest of my belongings spilling out.
No gun. No fucking gun.
“Someone was upstairs.” Elise’s words from moments before hit me square in the chest.
I grabbed my hair at the roots, sucking in empty air. “No… no…” He couldn’t have.
I forced myself to take a slow breath. I never kept the gun loaded. That was idiocy. But I always had the bullets with me. I flipped the suitcase on its back again and went for the outside panel. From inside it, I yanked out my phone charger, my shaving kit, my deodorant. But the box of Winchester White 9mm wasn’t there.
A surge of nausea nearly took me to my knees, but then I heard my father’s voice.
“I’ve told you. I’ve told you a million times, Abigail.” He wasn’t shouting, and perhaps that’s what broke a cold sweat over the back of my neck. “You’re never going to leave me.”
And I knew.
I knew what my father was going to do. Time slowed to an almost comical crawl. It felt just like running in the pool. My quads pumped with aching slowness. I noticed everything. The nap of the fibers in my carpet as I launched over it. The way Ava’s mouth fell open in confusion and the moment a nanosecond later when she recognized the look of doom in my face. The detail of the grain and mahogany staining on my parents’ door as I threw all my weight into one shoulder and that shoulder connected with the solid wood.
“Mom!” Someone screamed. They sounded terrified. My throat burned, and I realized the screamer was me. I pounded on the door, pain shooting down the heels of my hands.
“What’s happening?” Ava shrieked.
I needed help. We needed help. I looked back at her. “Call 911,” I hissed. Ava gaped at me for a second and bolted for her room. This was different. We both sensed it. I reared back and kicked at the door, the force of my heel landing just beside the knob.
“Mom!” I yelled again, needing her to hear me, needing her to know I was coming.
“Take your sister, Cole,” she pleaded.
I kicked the door again, and this time I heard a splintering. I threw my shoulder into it a third time and pain shot through me, but the door held.
“G-Garrett, please,” she begged. Her voice was low and shaking.
“You know it’s the only way, Abigail.” My father’s voice was so calm it was almost gentle.
I lost it.
I kicked the door with fury. “Dad!” I hadn’t called him “Dad” in more than a decade. My fear had reduced me to a little boy. “Dad, please don’t hurt h—”
A blast swallowed my words.
I froze, listening for my mother’s screams. But I heard only silence.
Ava ran from her room, her cell pressed to her ear. “What was that?” Shock and disbelief creased her brow.
I opened my mouth, but unbearable fear held me mute. What if I called her name, and she didn’t answer?
“Mom?” The word was choked. Hot tears blurred my vision.
And I wasn’t alone. Behind that closed door, I heard a low sobbing. But it wasn’t my mother.
It was him.
“Oh, Abigail.”
Rage filled my lungs, and I kicked the door again. “God dammit! What the hell did you do?” The wood gave a final protest and then cracked as the door knob wobbled. I kicked again, and the wood split.
And another blast shook the house.
Chapter 15
ELISE
Cole slammed the door in my face, and I heard the lock clunk. I glared at him through the pane, and for the split second that our eyes connected, I’d expected to see his shine with triumph, but, instead, they held relief.
And then he was gone.
“Cole!” I didn’t shout, though I wanted to. I took off around the side of the house. The garage door was closed. No surprise there. Cole would have snuck out some quieter way to put Ava’s bags in his car.
I tore around to the front of the house, my breath frosting the night
air as I sped up the steps to the front door, but that too was locked. And even though the glass door gave me a majestic view of the Whitehursts’ front hall and their stunning staircase, the stairs were empty. Cole had surely mounted them in the time it took me to run around the house.
The muffled sound of shouting carried through the closed windows, and I stepped back onto the lawn to look up at Ava’s room. I could see movement, a hurried silhouette, and, panicked, I pictured Cole fighting his father.
That thought had me darting for the side door, but that one too was locked up for the night, and I cursed Cole under my breath because everything had changed. Now. Now, I was afraid for him. And if he was going to have to fight for his freedom, to protect his family, I wanted to be by his side.
Mama’s keys.
She kept them on the dresser in her room. I’d have to be quiet, I knew, but I could get them. I ducked through the wooden gate on the right side of the Whitehursts’ house, and the sounds of yelling grew. My heart climbed in my throat at the fear in that sound.
I had my hand on the guesthouse door when I heard a pop.
I froze. My stomach plunged as I looked back at the house, all too aware of the sudden silence. And then adrenaline spiked my blood because I knew I needed to wake Mama. Cole had shot his father, and we would need to testify to the police. It was self-defense. I would tell them about the abuse I’d seen that very night with my own eyes. They’d have to believe me. And if they didn’t, they’d have to believe Mama. They’d just have t—
Cole’s screams sliced through the night. “God dammit! What the hell did you do?” And the house shook before I heard another pop.
Two gunshots. Why two gunshots?
“Mama!” I burst through the guesthouse door and ran toward her room. “Mama! Come quick!” I threw open her bedroom door in time to see my mother scramble out of the blankets and reach for her glasses.
“Lord, Elise, what’s wrong—”
Shelter Page 18
