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Authors: Amy Love

Elias (18 page)

BOOK: Elias
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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

 

The pack arrived back in Houston after twenty hours of straight riding. As they came down the boulevard through Northside, riders peeled off and were sent off with choruses of horns and waves from the remaining group. Fifteen of them remained with Elias all the way to his drive, and then with woops and horns they pulled away, heading down toward the Log Cabin. Elias watched them go, grateful for every one of them and the brotherhood they shared.

 

After parking the V-rod on the back porch, he came through the back door to find Chelsea in the kitchen making a sandwich.

 

"Sit down, it's time for you to eat," she told him. Her voice was still the child-like voice he had heard from her in the hospital, and the same as she used after her first meltdown; innocent, shy, unsure, cautiously playful, and nervously commanding.

 

"Alright," he agreed, keeping his own voice as nonthreatening as possible, and sat down at the table. "Where is Doc?"

 

"I'm right here," Doc said, coming out of the guest room, seeming pleasantly happy and rather carefree compared to the last month in Arizona.

 

"Any problems with your trip?" he asked Doc.

 

"None at all. Chelsea likes to fly," she pointed out.

 

"It's very clean above the clouds." Chelsea nodded, continuing to work on the ham sandwich. After it was put together, she added chips and a pickle, them set the plate down for him. "I'll get you a beer."

 

"Thank you," he said. "So, how are you feeling?"

 

"I'm good. I took a very long nap when we got home, but you still weren't here when I woke up. So, Doc and I watched a movie together and ate popcorn."

 

"She's doing very well. I'm very proud of her, and you too, by the way," Doc told him.

 

"What did I do that is comparable?" Elias asked.

 

"Oh, just things. Many things. Some large, some small, and barely noticed, but I noticed them." Doc grinned.

 

"Are you going to be spending the night?" Elias asked her as Chelsea sat down beside him and pointed at his sandwich. He took the hint and picked it up, taking a large bite.

 

"No, I don't think I'll need to, but I will be stopping by during the day for a couple of weeks to talk with her. She's eager to get back on track again, and wants to get better."

 

Chelsea nodded her head, and then leaned against him. "I can get better," she said, and it sounded like a promise.

 

"I know you can," he told her, and kissed her forehead.

 

They talked for a while together, and he told them about the trip home. Then he told them about Duffy's major confusion over which bike of his to ride home.

 

"I'm so sorry about that. I shouldn't have taken his Sporty," Chelsea said.

 

"He should have brought his flatbed and not that trike. But I'm very glad he didn't. He helped me and Eric out a great deal. That trike is very fast, you know," he told her.

 

"Eric was here when we got home," Chelsea said. "He told me he likes you a lot."

 

"I like him a lot, too," Elias told her.

 

"His hair is like Thor's," she said, giving him a mischievous grin.

 

"Were you flirting with him?" he asked playfully, hoping her grin meant she was playful too.

 

"Not much. I was good," she said, looking to Doc for assurance.

 

"She was very good. A perfect lady of the house," Doc agreed.

 

"Are you mad that I ran away?" she asked.

 

Elias thought about that. "I wish you would have taken me with you. Next time, if there is a next time, promise me that we'll leave together, okay?"

 

She studied him for a long time, "I promise. Would you really have come?"

 

"Yes, baby, I really would have come."

 

"But what about your house? And your things? And the club?"

 

"Our house, our things, and the club would have understood."

 

"Our house?"

 

"Yes, our house, because without you, I don't like living here. It is very empty without you."

 

She fell into deep thought then, and Elias ate his sandwich and let her think. Doc did as well, sipping on a glass of coke.

 

"I don't want to leave again," she finally said. "This is where we live. You and me, we live here. This is our home."

 

"Is that alright?" Elias asked. "I'll move with you to San Diego if you want, or Boston, or even Sydney, Australia if you want to go that far."

 

"Do they have White Wolves in those places?"

 

"No, they don't. Only here," he told her.

 

"Then I want us to stay here," she told him.

 

"Then, we will stay here."

 

Chelsea remained child-like for several weeks. She drew pictures and cleaned the house as if playing house, and sunbathed in the back. She often sat on his lap in the office while he attempted to work around her. When Duke's sister, Jill, arrived, she made a cake to take to her as a housewarming gift, and invited her over for dinner. She sometimes spent several hours brushing her hair, or rocking in a chair, but seemed to remain coherent.

 

The next month, she sat with Elias in the hot tub and asked, "Am I still your lover?"

 

"You are my only lover," he assured her.

 

"Then, when will we make love again?" she asked.

 

"Whenever you want, however you want. I'll do anything you want me to do."

 

She laughed. "I think
I'm
supposed to say that."

 

"I think that both of us can say it, because it is true for both of us."

 

She searched his eyes. "I love you."

 

"I love you too," he said, and kissed her lips.

 

"Will you marry me some day?"

 

"I'll marry you any day," he assured her.

 

"Tomorrow?" she asked.

 

"If you would like," he replied.

 

"Who will marry us?" she asked.

 

"John? He can marry us. He has a marriage license, and is a minister."

 

"John? He seems very big to be a minister," she said softly. "But that would be nice, wouldn't it? We could get married at the Log Cabin, in the same spot where we met, and I told you that you weren't going to get into my pants, and I wouldn't have a relationship with you," she said.

 

"Do you really want to be married?" he asked.

 

"Yes, but only to you," she told him.

 

"Then I'll call John, but how about we do it next month, so that we can invite everyone we want to. Do you want your dad to be there? He probably would like to give you away."

 

"My daddy?" She faltered. "Um, I'm still broke. I don't know if I want him to see me broke like this. Maybe we should wait a little longer. Let me get better first."

 

"Alright."

 

"Can we still make love, though?"

 

"Oh, definitely."

 

"Do I still turn you on?"

 

"Very much."

 

"Duke's sister Jill likes you. She would make love to you I bet," she told him.

 

"Jill is a very nice young woman, but I don't love her."

 

"Too bad for her. You're really good in bed, you know," Chelsea told him, then snuggled against him. "I'm sorry I'm still broke. I'm taking my meds."

 

"It's alright. You're getting better, and trying hard."

 

"Do you really think so? Am I really getting better?"

 

"Yes. Soon you will be mended. Just like a phoenix."

 

"A phoenix?"

 

"It is a bird, a mythical bird, that burns up in a volcano and then it rises from the ashes, whole and complete again."

 

She looked off into the sky, seeming to imagine the phoenix as he described it. "Like my meltdown," she whispered. "I want to rise again. I want to be Chelsea for you. The real Chelsea. You haven't met her yet, but I know you will like her. She's still in me. I can see her sometimes, peeking out. I dream about her sometimes, too. So I know she is there. I just need to get her to believe it's okay to be real again."

 

"I would like very much to meet her then; she sounds very nice."

 

"She isn't all that nice, but she is real. She is smart and funny, and she doesn't meltdown like I do," Chelsea said.

 

"You know, Chelsea, you are real. You are the realist person I know, and the strongest," he told her.

 

"Not as strong as you," she said.

 

"I'm not sure about that," he mused. "Not sure about that at all. See, I've always been able to fight back, to use my fists, and guns, and my brains. I've never had to face being hurt without those things. I've also never had to face being hurt alone. I'm not sure I would do as well as you have. The real Chelsea is only inside of you because you protected her. You kept her safe when no one else could. You got her away, and ran to me. Those are very strong and brave things. Very strong. I think you
are
the strongest person I know. So I know you will get better, and that someday I'll meet real Chelsea, and that we will be married, and live here, because you are strong enough to do those things. To rise up like a phoenix and do those things; to live again."

 

A month later, Chelsea began taking walks down to the Log Cabin during the day while he was working. After he was done, he would drive down to get her and they would have a drink together, and sometimes dinner. She talked with Marvin, the cook, and Fred, the bartender. After two weeks, Chelsea told him after he arrived that she had a job.

 

"A job?"

 

"I work in the bar as a waitress now. I start tomorrow," she said with a nod, then sipped on her rum and coke through a straw, looking very young.

 

"Really?" he asked.

 

"Yep," she said. "I know all the drinks, and all the prices now. I studied while I was here. I can tap a keg, and do all the math, and make change. I'm going to dress like Daisy Duke, and make lots of tips."

 

He smiled. "I bet you will."

 

The job seemed to help her a great deal. Doc commented several times that she was growing by leaps and bounds now. "I'm amazed, hell, I'm stunned, but so very grateful," Doc told him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

 

Five years later

 

Chelsea answered the front door and said, "Hi, daddy."

 

"You know, Chelsea," her father said as he came inside, "Most people have a guest room, not a guest house."

 

She grinned. "You could have slept on the couch. It is very comfortable, or so I hear," she said as she closed the door behind him.

 

Her father lifted an eyebrow. "Lover's spats?"

 

"Not with me, but it was mentioned in that context I believe," she said with a smirk.

 

"Grandpa!" said three-year-old Julia as she ran out of her room and down the hallway, arms open for a hug long before she was close enough to get one.

 

Her father swooped her up into his arms and Chelsea watched them rub noses and playfully tweak each other's ear lobes.

 

"Can we go swimming?" Julia asked.

 

"Maybe after lunch," her father said. "If mommy says it is alright."

 

Chelsea lifted a finger at her daughter as she spun her head, question loaded to fire. "Don't ask right now. We'll see after lunch, Julia."

 

"Aww." Julie pouted, but quickly brightened and turned back to her grandpa. "I'm drawing pictures for you. Come see?"

 

"Alright," he replied with a nod.

 

Cheslea watched her father carry Julia down the hallway to her room, which at one time was the guest room, and for a time, her room. She bit her lip, wondering exactly how happy a woman could be during a single day.

 

It wasn't her father's first visit. He came down from Boston for the wedding, and then for Julia's birth, and for each of Julia's birthdays since then. Elias has told him several times that if he wished to visit more often, they would gladly help with the travel expenses, but her father only shrugged and never brought the matter up.

 

She went into Elias' office. "Dad's here."

 

"I heard the squealing announcement." Elias nodded with a grin, remaining focused on his computer screen.

 

She sat down lightly on his lap and searched his eyes. "Do you miss being more involved with the club business?"

 

He glanced at her and said, "Not really, no. Eric is doing a fine job, and the club is running smooth. We ride at least twice a month with two long trips every year."

 

"What about the security stuff, and the bodyguard stuff. You use to love that, didn't you?" she asked.

 

He reached out and powered his computer screen down, and then leaned back in his chair to look at her, "What's bringing this on?"

 

"Nothing—not really. I found myself out there looking at dad and Julia, being deeply happy, and I would like you to be deeply happy with our life as well. I don't want you to feel like you have to give things up for us."

 

He studied her eyes and then kissed her lips. "I haven't given up a thing I didn't get tenfold back with you."

 

"But… then you did give it up for us," she said.

 

"No," he said shaking his head. "No, that's not the way of it at all."

 

"What's the way of it, then?"

 

Elias thought for a moment, and then said, "There's an edge you have to keep in order to do that kind of work. To keep that edge, you have to possess a sort of carefree attitude regarding your own life. You have to be able to take risks, to make split-second decisions with less than perfect information."

 

He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face, with a gentle caress. "When I saw you with Julia for the first time, I knew I didn't have that carefree attitude any longer. I would never be able to take risks again, not like I was willing to do in the past. I wanted to grow old, watch Julia grow up, meet her first boy friend, see her go to college. So, it was over. It just was. Things I thought were important were suddenly trivial, and things I thought were niceties in life, like financial security, and planning a future, were suddenly, absolutely, important."

 

"That's why I gave up the Sergeant at Arms position, and why I don't do the bodyguard work anymore except as an adviser, and why I'm very content and happy with those decisions. So, no, I didn't give anything up. I just let the dead weight fall to the side of the road."

 

"Are you happy, Elias?" she asked.

 

"Very. So very, very happy. But I would be happier if I could finish my work day now." He smirked.

 

She playfully slapped his shoulder. "Brat. I was trying to have a moment."

 

"We'll have a moment when you get back from Doc's, how about that?"

 

"I may not want one then," she teased, and got out of his lap. "Do the voodoo that you do. I have to get going anyway."

 

"Taking the bike?"

 

"I thought it would be nice. Dad is jealous as hell, still."

 

"I would buy him five if he would accept them," Elias said, flicking back on his computer monitor.

 

"I know. He's just…"

 

"He's just a man, like me, and the rest of the brothers. We like earning our own way, and don't enjoy handouts," Elias finished for her.

 

"Something like that, yeah," she agreed.

 

The Dyna Low Rider was the most fulfilling ride she had ever experienced. The tank and frame had a custom paint job, done by Elias. The bike was his wedding present to her. The base color was a blended metallic blue which shone with a reddish gold in the light. Painted on the tank was a phoenix, rising up from a torrent of flames, and the vanity plate read "PHENX."

 

She loved the bike. Loved it and rode it as often as she could, which wasn't as often since Julia arrived in their lives, bringing with her things like mini-vans, diaper bags, and car seats.

 

Wearing leather pants and a tight, laced-up leather vest with no shirt or bra, she mounted the bike, adjusted her helmet and sunglasses, then idled the bike out of the backyard and to the road. There she checked the street, and then with a grin of pure joy, opened the throttle, and let the big engine roar her down the street toward Doc's office. She passed the Log Cabin and saw a few people waving. She returned the greeting, but didn't slow down. Hitting the boulevard, she glided through traffic, feeling the Texas sun warm her skin almost as fast as the wind cooled her.

 

Entering Doc's office, she gave Maria a smile and asked, "Is she ready for me?"

 

"Yep, her last client left a few minutes ago," Maria assured her.

 

Chelsea nodded and went into the office, closing the door behind her.

 

She met with Doc only once a month now. Most of the time it was just a quick talk about how the meds were working. She'd had four major med changes, but the last set seemed to be holding up. Her focus and memory were clear. She rarely had an episode anymore, and her sleep was sound and refreshing. Sex wasn't a problem. Sometimes social gatherings made her feel a little uneasy, and sometimes thoughts about Julia being hurt or injured would plague her. But none of these things were strong or overbearing any longer.

 

When Julia was first born, Chelsea was terrified her child would be hurt or kidnapped by someone. She spent many sleepless days and nights sitting in Julia's room by the crib, protecting her. From what, she didn't know, but she couldn't leave. She even had a gun in there with her, though she hid it from Elias. But after a few months, that passed, and it didn’t return.

 

"Hello, Chelsea," Doc said as Chelsea sat down in the chair across the desk from her. "How are you felling?"

 

"Very real," Chelsea told her. "Very real."

 

They talked for a bit, and then Doc brought the subject over to her father’s visit, which was a major minefield since his first visit for the wedding.

 

“I’m still not ready to discuss this with him. He knows something happened, and that I’m seeing you and taking meds. But I just can’t tell him the details, or even the highlights.” Chelsea confessed.

 

“You don’t think he’ll understand?” Doc inquired.

 

“No, I think he’ll understand perfectly, but there’s nothing for him to do. The cause is solved, and buried. The damage is still real, and present, but he can’t do anything about that. What am I going to accomplish handing him an emotional ball of shit like this, when there is no way for him to get it back off his hands?”

 

“So, you are protecting him,” Doc pressed.

 

“I’m protecting both of us! I can’t stand the thought of him looking at me with shame and pain for things he had no piece of, or worse, trying to hide his shame and pain. Seriously, when does crap like that get fun?”

 

“Chelsea, you have come a long ways, and your father’s visits have been good mile markers for us. His visit for your wedding, for example, you were terrified to tell him what
you had become
. Do you remember thinking like that? You took it all on as your responsibility. You
let
them do this to you. You firmly believed that you
agreed
to be that way.”

 

Chelsea wiped at her eyes, “Yes, I remember that.”

 

“So, Chelsea, you’re right, it probably isn’t something you want to lay at your father’s feet, and say ‘here you go, deal with it’. But your reasons for not wanting to do so are so very far from where you began. And that’s why I asked.”

 

Chelsea thought about that and then nodded her understanding, “I haven’t felt like it was my fault in a long time.”

 

“Which is quite the rise for you,” Doc agreed. “So, Julia is three now, and running around the house, waking-up to crawl into bed with you at odd hours — how’s the sex life?”

 

Chelsea looked at her watch, “About to get better in thirty minutes.”

 

***

 

As soon as Julia was in the pool, Chelsea hurried to the office and pulled on Elias’ arm, “Come on, now,” she growled playfully.”

 

“Just a minute, let me finish with —”

 

“No! I’ll make it up with sweat labor at the bar if you want. We don’t have a minute,” she laughed, and yanked on him hard.

 

“I’m going to tickle you until you pee if you don’t cut it out,” he told her.

 

“Fine, but after,” she said, and yanked again.

 

“Done,” he said with a voice of victory, and for a moment she thought he was agreeing to the deal, and really intended to tickle her until she lost bladder control.

 

“Meep!” she squeaked, but then noticed that the
transfer completion
message was on the screen, meaning he was
done
with the transaction she was interrupting.

 

“What?” he asked, getting up, and coming at her.

 

“Nothing,” she lied innocently, and then grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

 

She began undressing before she reached their door, throwing her shirt and bra toward the closet as she crossed the threshold. Then starting on her pants, “Hurry up!” she hissed at him. “You know she’s going to have to tell us something soon!”

 

She got her blue jeans off and charged at him, as he was unzipping his. She reached in with well-practiced grace, and pulled his cock out, “You know what?” she teased, stroking him, “Just do me against the fucking wall, you slow old man.”

 

“Old huh?” he laughed.

 

And then she was spinning, and pressed against the wall beside the closed door, “Wee!” she squealed, her hair flying as she turned.

 

She lifted her ass as soon as she felt him, and then he rammed his cock into her with beautiful velocity. “Oh fucking sweetness!” she growled, her hands rubbing and clawing at the wall as he started pounding into her. “God I love you and your fucking cock,” she moaned, and pressed back with each of his thrusts.

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