Page 54 of Festive Fugitive
How incredible is that?
My appetite is back, so I enjoy my food while Eli sinks into his phone.
It must be at least half an hour later when he takes a deep breath, puts down the phone and looks at me. “Hm… I… I’m sorry, Cesar, but it’s Christmas Day. I even tried offering some people I managed to track down sizable bonuses if they come to do the jobnow, but no one’s biting. Would you come to the back seat with me? I’ve got something there—Just come, okay?”
I squeeze my knees as disappointment washes over me in an icy wave. I should have expected this, but after having hope dangled in front of me, this feels as if something was taken away from me. Something I was promised.
But it isn’t Eli’s fault that the world won’t align with our whims, so I take a deep breath, like when Sullivan forced me to endure pain for the sake of knowing how to, and leave the car.
The cold air helps, but when I’m back inside our cozy home on wheels, I have to brace myself so I don’t fall apart again. I don’t know how to deal with this issue though, so half my mind is elsewhere when Eli sits next to me and opens my jacket.
I clear my throat and point to the parade preparations not far away from where we’re parked. “Eli, there’s kids here…”
He groans and rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying to have sex. Just let me try something, okay? Take off your sweater.”
I already know I’d give him anything he wants, and soon enough I’m sitting in the back of the car shirtless, the skin in the middle of my chest red from my nervous scratching.
Eli soothes it with some gentle stroking. “How about I… I mean, I will give you the ink, Cesar,” he whispers and pulls out a black Sharpie. “Fill all this empty space.” He smiles at me shyly and puts his hand over my heart, which responds by trying to knock through my breastbone and touch his palm. My gaze seeks his, and just like that, the shards inside me melt in the warmth of his gaze. How could I doubt him, when he’s promised to help me?
“Please,” I tell him softly, because my voice is threatening to break under the weight of the emotion welling up inside.
Eli leans in for a quick kiss, and the intense smell of the pen when he takes off the cap couldn’t have been more soothing. I could inhale it and get high on it.
“Looking back, I think your best job was at our cabin,” Eli says and it’s hard to tell what exactly he’s drawing when I look upside down, but I’m pretty sure it’s a house by the rectangular shape. The pen glides over my skin, leaving marks that cover what was a blank canvas. “So that is taking center stage… And we have four threats eliminated, all for me.”
I have to bite my lip not to snort at the cartoonish skulls he’s drawing around the house. His is a completely different style than the somber, realistic images coveringthe rest of my torso, but I like it, because it reminds me of him.
He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“I am quite proud of that one.”
Our eyes meet, his filling with glee. “But the picture wouldn’t be whole if I didn’t add some of the decorations we had in our cabin. The holly leaves we cut out, or the paper chains you so meticulously glued together…” Eli draws those as a frame around the house and skulls, taking his time to fill the whole space for my last tattoo.
He has talent. How come he hasn’t shared that fact with me yet? I hope he can draw me too, or us, something to hang on the wall of the home we will soon share.
My thoughts come to a jarring, unexpected end, and I take a deep breath, feeling as if I’m tumbling off a cliff, frantically clinging to my hopes for safety, becausethatis what they are. Hopes.
When I first followed him into the night, making sure nothing happened to him during the flight from the gala, my goals were simple—to make sure he didn’t suffer any negative consequences of freeing me, and the rest of the fucking world, from that crooked reptile Sullivan. When did it become more than that?
When did I start assuming Eli would follow my lead and want to retire with me? It’s not fair to just project that onto him, when he ought to choose his own destiny once we’re both safe.
I feel so selfish when he smiles at me and finally pulls away. “Okay. Wait, I’ll take a photo so you can see if it’s acceptable.”
But even as he shows me the picture, I struggle to look at the screen, because I want to seehiminstead. He thinks I’m his savior, but he’s the onewho’s savedme. Again.
I pull him close and press my lips to his forehead while my heart gallops, trying to absorb the ink.
Everything inside me longs to be close to Eli, to fall asleep with my head in his lap and fiercely protect him from anyone who dares come too close, but I shouldn’t be selfish.
He took off my chains, and making sure he knows he’s free to leave is the least I can do.
Chapter 21
Eli
Gettingonboardisnerve-wracking. Cesar has bribed someone to turn a blind eye to our presence on the ship, so technically we are not even registered as passengers. By the time we step onto the deck under the watchful eye of the seaman who looks as if he could hunt down a whale with a harpoon on his own, I’m too frazzled with stress to be afraid.
The man’s beard is a pure white shade, just like the snow we are leaving behind in the glow of the artificial lights. It’s around four in the morning, and bitterly cold, but if this plan pans out, I might really have gotten away with murder.
