Page 48 of Tainted Love
I drop my head into my hands. “I don’t know. Up until a couple of days ago, I thought Jas was dead.”
“Sheisdead.”
“Then why am I getting messages from someone who knows things that only she could know?”
Benny shrugs. “Maybe she told someone.”
“Who? Jas had no family. She had no friends except you, me, and Oli.”
“You shared a room with Nick, maybe he overheard you?”
“Where is he now?”
“I turned eighteen and left the year after you, but he stayed, and I haven’t spoken to him since. I haven’t spoken to any of them, the same as you. As soon as I was out, I never looked back. You know what went on in that house, man. I didn’t want to have anything to do with them.”
I study Benny carefully, but he doesn’t seem to be lying. “Someone’s stalking me and my girl. They’re claiming to be Jas. They’re making threats and leaving the same gifts at my home that I would leave for her. I need to know it’s not her.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Jas couldn’t have survived it, could she?”
“It isn’t Jas,” he agrees. “Do you think it’s them?”
“Who else would it be?”
“What are you going to do?”
My shoulders slump, because that’s the problem. What the hell am I going to do about it? I have so much more to lose than I did back then.
Chapter 27
Bea
ELIAS ISN’T HOME when I get back from shopping. Even though his car is gone, I still knock on his bedroom door before pushing it open. I don’t know what I was expecting, but his room is impeccable. There is a stack of notebooks piled neatly on his desk, and two guitars sit on their stands under his bedroom window—one acoustic, one electric. His bed is neatly made, his sheets a simple grey. The scent of his body wash and cologne lingers in the air, and I breathe it in deeply. When I realise what I’m doing, I shake my head. This is exactly what I can’t be doing.
Walking over to his bed, I place the garment bags on top of his sheets and turn to leave. The record player in the corner of his room has me pausing. Curious, I step over to it and run my hand over the glass top. Despite knowing that Elias could come home at any moment, I can’t help myself. I need to know what he's been listening to. I lift the top carefully, switch it on and lift the needle so it swings over the album. A mellow tune fills the room, and it immediately calms me.
I look around for the sleeve, but with everything meticulously in its place, I won’t know what I’m listening tounless I go through all the records on the shelf beside the player until I find the empty one. Closing my eyes, I focus on the lyrics, swaying slightly to the music. It’s a melancholy duet about loving the right person at the wrong time. The singers’ voices complement each other, and I can feel the emotion through every word. The push and pull of a rising tide.
“What are you doing?”
I let out a yelp, and spin around to see Elias leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t look angry; he looks tired. His eyes are bloodshot, and he scrubs a hand down his face as he watches me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, taking a step toward him before I realise what I’m doing.
“I’m fine.” He pushes off the doorframe and takes a step into his room. “What are you doing?”
“Oh.” My cheeks heat. “I was, uh, just dropping these off”—I wave at the garment bags on the end of his bed— “and I, um …”
He arches a brow, a lazy smirk tugging on the corner of his lips. “You thought you’d just go through my things?”
“No. I mean, well, yes, but … I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
Elias moves so he’s standing directly in front of me, and I hate the way my body tingles, in anticipation of his touch. But I’m not going there. I won’t let him play with me again.
I sidestep around him, and I smell the scent of weed clinging to his clothes. He’s high and unpredictable. “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I won’t do it again.”
He reaches out and grabs my wrist, sending a current of electricity shooting through me. “Whatisall this?” He gestures at the clothes at the end of his bed.
I unconsciously pull my bottom lip between my teeth and look up at him through my lashes. “It’s a tuxedo.”
“A tuxedo?” His brows rise in surprise. He drops my hand and steps over to the bed to unzip the top garment bag. I hatehow I miss his touch, the way I crave it. “This is what you’ve been doing today?” His red-rimmed steel eyes flit up to meet mine.
