by Lisa Bilbrey
Tears burned her eyes as she said, “I love you, too.”
Callum almost looked like he believed her before he ushered Sadie and Derek out of the house. Elle stood and walked over to the window, watching as they climbed into the SUV and pulled away from the house. She did love them. With everything she had, she loved them. Just wasn’t sure that was enough, anymore.
Elle waited five minutes after Callum left before she grabbed the keys to Sadie’s car, her cell phone, wallet, and left the house. She had promised her lovers that she would stay at the house, that she’d give herself time to heal, but she had questions that needed answers. The only place she would be able to get those answers was at University Medical Center, in room two fourteen. The room where Andrew Flynn was recovering from nearly being killed.
They’d gotten word two days ago that Andrew had woken from his coma. Elle had wanted to go talk to him immediately, but Callum, Derek, and Sadie didn’t think she was ready, said she was still dealing with being kidnapped, tortured, and raped. They were right, of course, but Andrew had nearly given his life for their daughters. Elle needed to understand what had happened that day.
It took Elle twenty minutes to get the courage to leave her car. Another ten before she decided to take the stairs to the second floor, rather than the elevator, and an additional five just standing outside of his room. She cursed herself for being afraid, for letting fear win, so with shaking hands, she pushed the door open.
Andrew’s eyes opened and he turned toward her. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey,” Elle murmured. “Sorry to just drop in like this. I . . . I, um, I wasn’t sure I should.”
“It’s fine.”
Elle stepped into the room, letting the door close. She stayed next to the door, though. Andrew shifted so that he was seated higher in his bed, which was comical to Elle. Such a big man in a small bed, he looked out of place. Of course, the white bandage wrapped around his head said otherwise.
Elle cleared her throat. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve felt better. Head hurts a lot. Doctors say it will take time, that I went through a lot of trauma. I don’t know. Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“How are you?” he asked.
“Been better,” she admitted. “People keep saying it’ll get easier, but . . . I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Elle paused for a moment, releasing a heavy breath. “What happened that morning?”
Andrew frowned. “The bell had just rang when Mrs. Morrow asked me to escort Flora and Willow to the library. We were almost there when I saw her. Trixie. She had a baseball cap on, but I knew it was her. She had just turned the corner toward the cafeteria, so I put the girls in the closest and told them I’d be back for them and to be as quiet as mice. I . . . I thought, maybe, I could stop Trixie. I don’t know. I followed her down to the boiler room.
“That’s when she attacked me. Hit me with something hard. A pipe maybe? I didn’t get a good look at it. The pain was intense. She pushed me onto my back and demanded that I tell her where the girls were. I refused, Elle, and she didn’t like that.”
“No, I imagine she didn’t,” Elle whispered.
“She stabbed me over and over. I lost count, couldn’t think of anything except for the pain. Suddenly, she stopped and dragged me behind a pile of boxes. She left me there, and . . . I don’t know. The rest is kind of in pieces. I could hear people moving around, calling out for me, but I couldn’t seem to make a sound. ” Andrew paused. “Are Flora and Willow okay?”
Elle nodded and tears sprinkled down her face. “From what I’ve been told, they did exactly as you told them.”
“Thank God,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“I should have stopped her from leaving,” he grumbled. “If I had . . .”
“She wasn’t working alone,” Elle said, quietly. “Sometime over the last year, she connected with a man named . . . named Leo. He, um, he was an ex of mine, who I had sent to prison after he assaulted me. Guess he was little pissed with me. Wanted revenge, or whatever. He got it, so. . .”
“They hurt you, didn’t they?” he asked.
Elle nodded. “I left myself vulnerable and paid the ultimate price for it.”
“No, you haven’t,” Andrew quipped.
“Oh, no?” she asked. “They hung me from the rafters and beat me, Andrew. They cut me with knifes, whipped me, burned me with cigarettes. And after they’d inflict more pain than I’ve felt, he would . . . he would rape me. Over and over,” she cried, covering her mouth with her fingers. “They . . . I . . .”
“You’re alive,” he said, softly. “They might have broken you, but you’re alive, aren’t you?”
“I wish I wasn’t,” she whispered.
“Well, I am glad you are,” he said, drawing her attention to him. “You have two little girls that love you, Elle. They talked about you all the time. Mommy said this and Mommy did that.”
“They did?” Elle whimpered.
Andrew nodded. “You’re their hero, Elle. So, yeah, I’m glad you’re alive because Flora and Willow deserve better than living in a world where their mommy is dead.”
“They might have felt like that a few weeks ago, but now? I doubt it.” Elle frowned. “They’re scared of me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he scoffed.
“No, they are,” she said. “I’m a mess, Andrew. I can’t sleep or eat or work. It took me five minutes to get the courage to leave the house this morning and another twenty just to come into the hospital. I just . . . Why? Why me? That’s what I don’t understand why they looked at me and thought I deserved to be treated like shit.”
“I don’t know, Elle,” he admitted. “I wish I did, but I don’t. You’re safe now, though, aren’t you?”
Elle pressed her lips together as she nodded. “Until the next psychopath decides I owe them something, I guess.”
Andrew frowned, but he didn’t argue with her.
Clearing her throat, Elle said, “Thank you for saving my girls. I . . . I’m sorry you were hurt, but thank you for keeping them safe.”
“You’re welcome, I guess. Just wish I could have done more.”
“Me, too,” she whimpered, reaching behind her for the door handle.
Elle threw the door open and rushed out of the room, her cheeks soaked as her tears fell. She may have suffered through hell, but thanks to Andrew Flynn, her girls had been spared. And for that, she was thankful.
Slowly, Elle walked down the hallway to the stairs, taking each one with care. She had just taken the last step when the doors to the hospital slid open and Elle saw Gregory Lang, Greta’s son, rush into the hospital. She had only met the man a few times over the last eight years.
He paused and looked around, his eyes landing on Elle. His lips curved into a frown as he walked toward her. Elle felt her body tense, but she couldn’t seem to move.
“Do you know where she is?” Gregory asked.
“Who?”
“My mother,” he said. “I got a call from her neighbor. Said they’d brought her in, but I don’t know where she is.”
“I . . .” Elle shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was here visiting someone else. I bet they can tell you at the help desk,” she murmured and gestured to the desk on the other side of the lobby. “Is Greta okay?”
“No,” Gregory muttered. “Neighbor said she was unresponsive.”
“I’m so sorry,” Elle whimpered. “If there’s anything I can do . . .”
Gregory tried to smile. “Yeah, thanks.”
He turned and rushed to the help desk. A few minutes later, he rushed through the hospital, toward the emergency department. Elle knew she should leave, go back home, but she found herself following him. She settled into the back corner of the waiting room.
Elle reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell. She pulled her feet onto the edge of the seat, her knee
s flushed with her chest as she scrolled through her contacts. She stopped at Samuel’s number.
While she knew her lovers would be pissed, she found herself calling him. The phone rang five times before being directed to his voicemail.
“Hey, you’ve reached Samuel Davis. Can’t come to the phone, but you know what to do.”
A few seconds later, Elle heard a beep.
“Hey,” she whispered through her tears. “I’m at the hospital. Greta’s here, and I’m not sure she’ll make it. I’m not sure I’ll make it. Things are so fucked up. Just feels like I’m falling apart. I just . . . I miss you. I need you, Sam. I —”
The call was cut off before Elle could say more. She tucked the phone between her legs and body, hoping that he would get her message.
—FA—
Three hours passed, and Elle still hadn’t heard a word about Greta’s condition. She felt anxious and worried, scared and guilty. Elle knew Greta hadn’t been well. She had been pale and weak, aged quickly over the last few months. The stress of trying to keep the company together while Elle fell apart had been too much. How could Elle be so selfish? She should have reached out to Greta’s family, shared her concerns.
The doors to the emergency room opened and Elle looked over, feeling her shoulders tense when Derek, Callum, and Sadie rushed in. They stopped and looked around the room, all three of them sighing when they saw her in the back of the room. They shared a look before weaving a path around the sick and waiting.
“Any word?” Sadie asked.
Elle shook her head. “You’re mad.”
“Yeah, we are,” Derek admitted, sitting in the chair next to her while Callum and Sadie continued to stand. “You weren’t going to leave the house. You promised us.”
“I know,” she whispered, tightening her arms around her legs.
“So why did you?” Sadie prompted.
Elle frowned. “I needed answers.”
“What answers?” she pushed, and when Elle shook her head, she knelt in front of her. “You came to see Andrew, didn’t you?”
Tears filled Elle’s eyes as she nodded.
“We told you that we’d come in a few days. He needed time to rest.”
“I know,” she murmured. “But I . . . I needed to know what happened that morning.”
“Did it help?” Callum asked, drawing Elle’s attention to him. “Talking to him, I mean. Did it help?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Why won’t you trust us?” Callum asked, falling into the seat on the other side of her.
Elle frowned again. “I do.”
“Yeah?” he asked, lobbing his head to the side.
“Yes.”
“Then when you found out that Greta had been brought in, why did you call my dad and not us?”
Elle’s shoulders tensed.
“Mom called me when she got the voicemail you left. You called him, but not me, or Derek, or even Sadie.”
“I should have known she was tracing his calls,” Elle grumbled.
“Can you blame her?” Sadie asked, sitting across from them. “After what’s happened, can you blame any of us for being concerned?”
“Concerned?” Elle scoffed. “If you were concerned about us, you wouldn’t be trying to keep us apart. You’d let me see him, talk to him. But instead, you’re keeping me locked away.”
“Is that what you think?” Derek asked and when she shifted her attention to him, she saw he had tears in his eyes. “That we’re keeping you prisoner?”
Elle wasn’t sure how to respond. She loved being with them, but at the same time, she was terrified to let them close, let them love her the way they so desperately wanted. And she hated that she couldn’t go where she pleased without them worrying that she was running away, not that she blamed them. Her behavior hadn’t been rational, but didn’t she deserve better than being treated like a five year old?
Before she could give him an answer, the doors leading to the back of the emergency room opened and Gregory Lang walked out. He looked around the room, frowning when he saw the four of them sitting there. As he started walking toward them, Elle stood up. The look on his face told her everything, but she still found herself voicing the one question she didn’t want answered.
“She’s gone, isn’t she?”
Gregory nodded. “She never regained consciousness. They said . . . they said it was quick, painless.”
“I’m so sorry,” Elle cried, wrapping her arms around her torso.
“Yeah, me too.”
Gregory turned and walked away, leaving Elle standing in the middle of her lovers. Greta Lang had died and it was all Elle’s fault.
Twenty-five
Elle sat in the middle of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, and her arms wrapped protectively around them. Her face was moist with tears that had fallen non-stop over the last three days. Tears for a woman who had loved and accepted her as one of her own. Today was Greta’s funeral, Elle’s chance to say one last goodbye.
Sadie flittered out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of black panties and matching bra. “We’re going to be so late thanks to those dicks.”
Elle sucked the inside of her lip between her teeth as she watched her wife pull a black dress out of the closest. Sadie’s body was gorgeous and Elle wanted to touch her, to feel her, to taste her, but she was terrified. How could she let go of her fears and allow her husbands and wife to love her again?
Sadie paused and looked over at Elle. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“No,” Elle admitted, tightening her arms around her knees.
“Cal and Derek could go,” Sadie suggested. “You and I could stay here, spend the day cuddling in bed.”
Elle frowned.
“It was just a suggestion,” Sadie mumbled and laid the dress on the bed before turning to the dresser. She picked up a diamond pendent Derek had given her for their anniversary two years before. “Is it appropriate to wear jewelry to a funeral?”
“I don’t know.”
Sighing, Sadie laid it back onto the dresser and turned to her. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Me, either,” Elle whimpered as tears filled her eyes once more.
Sadie picked up her dress and carried it into the bathroom just as the door to their bedroom opened and Derek walked in. In a dark suit, he looked handsome, yet tired at the same time. Elle wanted to wrap her body around his, assure him that she was okay, but she couldn’t because the last thing she felt was okay.
“Your mom just picked up the girls,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “They were excited about going to that new shopping mall. Apparently there is a killer toy store there.”
Elle nodded.
Derek reached over, covering her hands with his, but didn’t say anything. The defeated, wary look in his eyes told Elle everything she needed to know. Derek had reached the end of his rope.
“We’ve got to leave now, or we’re going to be late,” Callum said, rushing into their bedroom while straightening his tie. He paused and looked at Elle and Derek before turning his attention to the bathroom. “Sadie, babe, hurry!”
“I am hurrying,” Sadie snapped as she walked out of the bathroom. She stopped in front of him so that her back was facing him. “Zip me up.”
Callum pulled the zipper up on her dress.
“And we wouldn’t be so late if you two hadn’t . . .” Sadie trailed off as her eyes shifted to Elle. “It doesn’t matter. Just need my shoes and then we can go.”
Elle resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t an idiot. While she had spent most of the morning on the front porch, her lovers had spent their time making love. It was silly that the three of them being together hurt her heart, but it was just one more way where she had failed them. She wasn’t the lover they needed anymore.
Once Sadie had her shoes on, Elle climbed off the bed and followed her, Derek, and Callum downstairs and out to the car. She climbed into the backseat
next to Sadie, her hand automatically falling onto her thigh. The pain had become her new normal. They’d tried to push her to use her new cane, but it made her feel weak and stupid. Everything made her feel weak and stupid, though. Elle pulled a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and hid the tears that once again saturated her skin.
Twenty minutes later, Callum parked in front of Johnson Brother’s Funeral Home. The parking lot was packed and there were a couple dozen people milling around outside. Most of them were from the company, employees who had taken advantage of the day off to attend Greta’s funeral. Elle had sent a companywide memo closing Davis Architecture and Design for the day. Felt like the right thing to do.
As they climbed out of the car, people shifted their attention to her, clearly surprised to see her in attendance considering she hadn’t been back to work since her breakdown. Elle clenched her hands into fists, struggling with the urge to turn and run.
“Come on, beautiful,” Derek whispered, his arm wrapping around her waist. “I’ve got you.”
Elle nodded, trying to keep from trembling as they followed Callum and Sadie to the front of the building. Murmurs of “Hey” and “Hi” followed them inside. Elle tried to smile, tried to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside, but with each step, her heart ached more and more.
Gregory was standing just inside the building with a tall, skinny man with dark hair that was thinning on top. He looked over as Elle entered, his lips curving into a frown. He whispered something to the man next to him before walking right up to her.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.
The suddenness in his request shook Elle. “Um,” she murmured, shifting her eyes to her lovers. “I guess.”
“Just over here,” Gregory suggested, gesturing to a corner ten feet away.
Elle nodded, and followed him over, knowing that her lovers weren’t going to go too far.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, inwardly smacking herself. “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”
“It’s about as good as it can be right now.” Gregory reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. “Met with Mom’s attorney yesterday about her estate and assets. And, um, he said she left this for you.”
