Great Sass: Providence Family Ties Series

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Great Sass: Providence Family Ties Series Page 5

by Mary B. Moore


  Me? I did none of that. Instead, I blushed and stumbled through to my bedroom again, discreetly looking around me as I went for hidden cameras. Yeah, I wasn’t a smart person at that moment—I’d penis-struck by Elijah’s perfect, pierced pecker.

  “So, he’s been released?” Elijah asked, frowning as he thought over what MeeMee had just told us.

  The man who’d tried to rape me, Orson Riley, had been released and was now living in a small house in a place called Hayes that bordered the town it’d all happened in, West Wickham. He was on license—aka probation—but that didn’t mean jack shit because he’d already been seen out and about in the town I’d lived in.

  Judging by the information she had, he’d even been out last night at The Swan pub in the center of town, laughing it up with his mates like he didn’t have a care in the world. If I’d still been there, I’d have more than likely bumped into him. The thought made me feel sick.

  “Yes. He released three weeks early, thanks to his perfect behavior.” MeeMee rolled her eyes and then frowned as Dobby rubbed his head against her leg. “I don’t like you, so I don’t know why you insist on doing that.”

  She was lying, she loved him, and I knew that because I’d borrowed her phone a couple of weeks ago and found about three hundred photos of him on it.

  “What’s the relevance of the pub he was in?”

  Shuddering, I swirled the little bit of coffee in the bottom of my mug, focusing on it instead of making eye contact. “I used to meet my friends with our grandmothers there on a Tuesday night. It’s the closest pub to where I lived, so I didn’t have far to stumble if I had too much to drink—which was hardly ever,” I added quietly.

  Once you’ve had your power tested, you stayed in control as much as you could, and being drunk wasn’t being in control.

  “But you got drunk with Ari and Beau,” he pointed out, knowing full well I had because he’d seen the security video footage of the whole debacle.

  Yes, because I trust them.

  “Please don’t remind me,” I whispered. “Those videos will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

  I hadn’t wanted to say anything because it would make his family feel terrible, but the videos were humiliating for me. Yes, I laughed at myself all the time, and I wasn’t upset with them for showing people the fun we’d had, but the embarrassment I felt at the things I’d done on them…

  Frowning, he leaned forward slightly and looked at me carefully. “You deserve to have fun and laugh, Sadie.”

  That was rich…

  “So do you,” I replied, not missing a beat.

  I regretted it as soon as I said it, worried that he’d shut down, but instead, his mouth twitched. “Touché.”

  “I’m still here,” MeeMee snickered, then sighed when Dobby jumped up onto her lap with a thump. “I wasn’t talking to you, you bald bastard.”

  Not offended by the insult, he started purring and nudging her hand with his head.

  “Looks like he likes you,” Elijah mused. “Either that or he thinks you’re a steak. Every time he looks at me, I swear he sees a thirty-ounce piece of beef waiting for him.”

  Nodding, she gave in and started stroking his head. “You’re father and I made sure we had eyes on Riley, but you needed to know. We’ve also told Phyllis,” she assured me, talking about my maternal nan who was just as crazy as she was, “and she said she’d let us know if she saw him—”

  “No, she didn’t,” I interrupted, narrowing my eyes at her. “She said she’d cut his balls off or hurt him in some way, didn’t she?” I knew them both too well. There was no way she’d ‘let them know’ if she saw him.

  Shrugging, she kept her eyes on Dobby. “She might have plans to nudge him into the traffic or even turn her car into a Bentley with him as the symbol on the hood.” That was more like it. “The point is, we have eyes on him.”

  “And he can’t get into the country because I’d assume with him being on parole, he has no passport,” Elijah added.

  “He probably won’t even be able to get an ESTA,” I told them both, referring to the travel authorization document you needed to complete and be granted before flying to the States from England.

  “I don’t think we should rest our assurance on either of those matters,” MeeMee huffed. “The man’s shown he’s got zero sense but a hell of a lot of plans and determination in the past. Complacency is what gets people hurt.”

  Shitting shit, she had a point.

  “Which is why I’m so glad you’re staying with Sadie now,” she said, looking at Elijah with a beaming smile on her face. “Although, I’m intrigued as to how you got those bruises on your face and why she was wearing god awful sweatpants that weren’t hers.”

  Blushing, I sank down in my chair and tried to cover my face with my hair.

  “I train,” Elijah hedged, “and last night it got a little more involved than normal. Then, this morning, Sadie must have picked up the first thing she could get her hands on—“ not a lie “—as she came to answer the door.”

  “And how did they come to be the first thing she could get her hands on?”

  “I dropped them there to change into on my way from the couch to the bathroom.”

  Raising an eyebrow, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You know, I’ve got my own son, and Sadie and her brother and sister have always been a handful. I’ve learned the art of how to tell when someone’s full of shit.” I had to give Elijah credit because his expression didn’t change. “You might call it training, the rest of us call it relieving tension. You also might refer to the bed as a couch, but a bed is a bed.”

  Glancing at me, Elijah raised his eyebrows like he wanted to know how to proceed.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I huffed. “He got the snot beat out of him—”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “—so I shoved a blinking tampon up his nose to stop it bleeding—”

  “Which I tried to stop her doing.”

  “—And I couldn’t leave him to sleep on the couch when he was bruised and looking like a beaten puppy—”

  “The hell I was.”

  “—so he slept through with me.”

  I was about to ramble on about piercings, but I snapped my mouth shut at the last second and stared at my grandma, who was looking between the two of us.

  Whatever she saw was good enough for her because she nodded and put her cup on the coffee table. “Great. I’ll let your father know I’ve spoken to you and that Elijah is taking great care of you. Thanks for the coffee.”

  She was gone before either of us could say goodbye or ask her not to tell him about Elijah, leaving us blinking at the chair she’d been sitting in, which was now occupied by a pissed off looking Dobby.

  “And I thought my family were tornadoes,” Elijah muttered, shaking his head as he stood up. “I see where you get it from now.”

  If I wasn’t so focused on the fact Orson was out of prison and that my grandmother knew what happened inside my home, I probably would’ve pointed out that was rich coming from him.

  As it was, I just nodded and picked the phone up to call Nan and make sure she was okay. We lived relatively close to the pub he’d been in, and he knew where my house was, so the fact he could get to her easily… I wasn’t happy.

  Chapter Five

  Elijah

  I’d been staying with Sadie for three days, and being around her and seeing how she handled what she was going through with the guy in the UK had made me think harder about where I was in life.

  Cooper's parents blamed me for not getting to him quickly enough and held me responsible for him not coming home alive that night. They hadn’t called me a murderer outright, but it’d been close.

  It was sad because our parents had been best friends since we’d met, and we’d even spent holidays together, but now there was a huge divide that wouldn’t ever go away. How do you forgive someone for saying hurtful things to you during one of the worst moments of your life? And for my fami
ly, they lost an honorary son that day as well and had to witness the shit they’d said to me. My guilt on top of it had made it a very dark time for all of us.

  I’d finally gotten to the stage recently where I’d stopped analyzing every move I’d made that night. At home, I had a notebook about the lead up to the call out, including my last bathroom break, and none of it gave me any answers. I literally couldn’t go any further with it, and that was probably the biggest reason why I’d gone into that fight the other night—frustration.

  The thing was, taking time away from places I was familiar with and spending time with Sadie at hers had given me space to breathe and think clearly. Now I felt like I was looking forward for the first time in almost two years, instead of looking backward.

  Flipping my phone around in my hand one last time, I hit the screen and pulled up a number I’d been ignoring calls from for a while—Samson’s.

  It only rang once, and then his voice barked, “Where the fuck have you been?”

  He wasn’t my C.O. anymore, but I still respected him as one, and he was a friend, so the anger in his voice hit me hard.

  “I needed time.” I knew he’d understand it and why.

  He’d been there when Coop’s family had screamed at me at the funeral. If it hadn’t been for his grandparents, I’m sure they’d have kicked us out, but they still made me sit at the back of the church anyway.

  There was a moment’s silence, and then he blew out a breath. “You know, I’ve watched a smart, ambitious, dedicated man crumble since that night. You were always the one I looked at, and knew you had the strength to work any situation, any call. I understand you needed time to get your head around it, and I’m not just talking about what happened that night.” I winced but didn’t make a noise to give away my reaction. “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, and I want you to be brutally honest with me. Can you give me—your friend—that honesty?”

  If he hadn’t stressed the word friend, I probably wouldn’t have agreed. But by saying the way he had, it triggered a reaction inside me that lowered my defenses and brought loyalty to the front.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think if he’d been in your shoes, Cooper would be kicking himself like you still are?”

  “Absolutely. He’d be wondering what he could’ve done differently, and doing what I’m doing and analyzing every movement I made before and during the storm.”

  “No, Elijah. Analysis is different from emotion, you’re pitting technicalities against reason. Coop was reasonable, and he was level-headed. Given all of that, would he be kicking himself like you are? And by that, I mean holding himself to blame like a cold-blooded murderer.”

  Fuck.

  He was right—actions versus sense and reason.

  “No,” I admitted begrudgingly. “He’d want to go back and do things differently, even plan out how he’d have done it. But he wouldn’t be looking at himself like a cold-blooded murderer.”

  “Right, I didn’t think so.” There was a brief pause, and I focused on Dobby so I didn’t have to acknowledge the burning in my eyes. “Next question: how many times do you need to fight someone and feel the pain when they hit you until you feel like you’ve been punished enough?”

  I swear, hearing those words made the world stop turning, and all noise disappear from it. Not just because Samson knew I’d been fighting, but also because he was right. I’d been fighting and thinking I was working out stress and tension, but now I realized I’d been trying to get punished for what’d happened.

  “You still with me, E.T.?”

  Licking my lips, I stared blindly at a photo of Sadie with her brother. I didn’t need to see it because I’d already memorized every detail, including the street sign behind her with The Glade written on it—the street she’d lived on in England.

  “Yeah,” I rasped. “I didn’t… fuck!”

  “Yeah,” Samson repeated, “you didn’t know that you were looking for punishment. But the problem is, pal, you’re not going to find it like that. The bigger problem is, you’re looking for something you’re never going to feel because you know deep down that you don’t need punishing.”

  Groaning, I hung my head and grabbed a fistful of hair. A part of me deep inside agreed with what he was saying, but a more significant part of me needed to blame someone—me. “It was my job to save him.”

  “It was your job to save people who could be saved, Elijah, not the ones who’ve died. I’m not a deeply spiritual man, I’ve never been one, but even I believe that everyone on earth has a time they’re meant to be here for. That time can be short, it can be long. The ending can be peaceful, or it could be a God damn Greek tragedy. We never know when that time’s going to hit us, so we have to live life to the max so we don’t leave behind an empty legacy.”

  I nodded, not even thinking about the fact he couldn’t see me do it.

  “Cooper made an impact on the world in the twenty-eight years he was with us. He did a job he loved that not many could do, and he loved the fuck out of the sea. Do you think he’d want to die in a car accident or being hit by lightning? No, he lived in the sea, it was his happy place, and you have to respect and appreciate the fact that he died where he’d want to die.”

  “Not then,” I rasped. “He wouldn’t have wanted to die that soon. He’d have wanted to be saved.”

  “You think?” he asked incredulously. “Few people actually want to die, Elijah. I’ve seen people on the cusp of it, begging God to grant them more time. I’ve seen men panic and kill themselves when they’ve thought they had no more time,” I knew that case because I’d been there, too. We’d boarded a drug smuggling sub, and knowing that they’d be killed in prison, the guys onboard had shot themselves in the head before we could stop them. “Cooper most definitely didn’t want to die then because he had plans. But then, so did you, didn’t you, E.T.?”

  Christ!

  “You had plans together and were about to start making them happen. Do you think he’d want you to cancel them all to live your life the way you are right now? Do you think he’d want you to live a life of misery, pain, and desolation? Or do you think he’d want you to live life to the God damn max, be happy as fuck, find a woman and have kids?”

  My answer was instant. “He’d want me to live life, be happy, find a woman, and have a bunch of fucked up kids.”

  When he spoke again, it was with a barely concealed rage that made his words pour out of him harshly. “And do you think he’d be happy with his family for how they’re treating you?”

  Out of all of the questions, this was the hardest for me to answer. I felt disloyal to the people I’d grown up with, the ones who’d been there with me pretty much every step of the way. The ones who now held me responsible for Cooper breaking his neck and dying on the ship.

  “No, he’d be pissed.”

  “Yeah, he’d be fucking pissed. He’d be losing his shit at them and doing to them what you’re doing to your own family and friends.”

  “They’ve got a good reason for—”

  “They’ve got no fucking reasons at all,” he yelled down the phone, making Dobby jump and hiss. “There isn’t one reason for them to blame you. You didn’t make him go out fishing. You didn’t make the storm hit. You didn’t make the boat take on water and capsize—the responsibility for it was down to bad fucking luck. You didn’t make any of it happen, but you did go out and try to save his life. You did almost break your back, trying to save him and the others. You did bring him home so that his family could bury him and have a place to go to speak to him. You did all of that, Elijah. You. You risked your life to save them all, and then you held him even though you needed emergency medical care. He didn’t die alone, he didn’t suffer, and he wasn’t left alone until we had to physically separate y’all. That’s more than most people get to do for their loved ones, and hand to God, it’s what I’d wish for if I lost anyone.”

  Feeling something on my cheek, I flicked it with my finger and rea
lized it was water. I hadn’t cried since the hospital, it wasn’t going to solve anything or fix how I felt all the time. But hearing him put it into words like that, it felt like I had to start some of the grieving process all over again. The final goodbye.

  “I hate that I had to do this, Elijah. You know I love you like a brother, even when I had to order you around, and all I want is for you to have a life and not blame yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

  Just then, the door opened, and I turned around to see Sadie stumble through it as she juggled bags and her umbrella. Getting up, I put the phone between my shoulder and neck and reached out to take some of the shit from her. “Okay, Samson. I’ll think about it all, okay?”

  “She’s home, isn’t she?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice now. Again, I wasn’t surprised he knew I was with Sadie, I’d spoken about him to her during our last conversation months ago, and he knew something was different about her for me.

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll let you go to her after I say one last thing. Stop fighting, Elijah. Fighting the world and being angry all the time isn’t going to get you the atonement you’re hoping for, but it could end up causing you an injury that prevents you from living life to the max. For Coop's sake and your sake, don’t do it.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Not used to me answering things with one word, Sadie shot me a puzzled look and then pointed to her bedroom to see if I needed privacy. Shaking my head, I took the umbrella from her and dropped it in the sink in the kitchen to drain the water off it.

  “No, not affirmative, say you’ll cut that shit out now.”

  “I’ll cut that shit out now,” I sighed, avoiding the look Sadie was giving me now.

  “Excellent, because if I hear that you’ve done it again, I’ll come down and personally beat the shit out of you until you’re begging me to stop.” He would as well. He might be over twenty years older than me, but the man worked out twice a day and ate the souls of superheroes in a protein shake for lunch.

 

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