Obsession (Endurance) (3 page)

Still,
I saw the emptiness of my life stretch out in front of me and wondered if this
was the one gentle take-away from my ordeal. 

Part
of me recoiled in terror, in disgust, knowing the seed of one of those men had
taken in my womb.  That part of me wanted desperately to vomit.

Another
part of me thought about all the children in violent homes or waiting to be
adopted.  Kids who came from flawed circumstances through no fault of
their own.  They hadn’t asked to be born drug-dependent or physically
disabled or at the wrong time in someone’s life. 

With
my eyes closed I examined who I was and who I tried to be.  This was a
decision that would affect the rest of my life.  It might hurt my mother
and father. 

Finally,
it was Preston who made up my mind. 

I
met her gaze with as much certainty as I could muster.  “I can’t,
Theresa.  My parents tried for twenty-five years to have children.  I
have no family, no real friends who aren’t paid to spend time with me, and one
day my mom and dad will be gone.”

Just
the
thought
made my hand press firmly against my heart.

“It’s
unlikely that I’ll ever marry or have the chance for a relationship or children
in a normal situation.  The legacy from my parents, the love they’ve given
me…I can give that generously to a baby no one else would want.  My own
small family.” 

Truth
. 
I could feel it inside myself.  “Do you understand?”

Theresa
sat on the edge of the bed and took my un-casted hand in hers.  “Are you
sure
,
Ellie?  If you change your mind within the next few weeks, you need only
tell me.”  I nodded and squeezed her hand as tears poured down my
face.  I rested my head against the pillow and cried myself to
sleep. 

When
I woke up a long time later Theresa was gone.  My door was open and I
could see the edge of the black tactical gear my guards wore on either side of
the door.  Mrs. Geldin sat in her wheelchair beside the bed.  I told
her hello with a smile.

“Hello,
dear.  You’re looking better each day.  How are you feeling?” 
Her hands were warped from arthritis and her skin was like rice paper, pale and
fragile.  She held my hand gently in hers. 

“I’m
fine, Mrs. Geldin.  How is your hip?  And Mr. Geldin?”

With
a delicate snort, the old woman’s eyes twinkled.  “My hip is on the
mend.  I hate not being able to get around at more than a crawl.  My
Richard spends almost all of his time here.  Says I’ll run off with a
young orderly if he doesn’t keep an eye out.  I’d divorce him for his
raging jealous streak but we love each other too much.  Besides, if that
nurse from the night shift doesn’t stop flirting with my darling, she’ll learn
how bad I am about sharing.”

I
couldn’t help but laugh.  A movement by the door drew my attention and I
was happy to see my parents.  “Mom, Dad…you remember Mrs. Geldin?  My
parents, Monica and Samuel.” 

Mom
swept in to take the elderly woman’s hand and inquire after all manner of
things.  This told me my parents had checked out every person currently
residing or working on this floor.

My
mother is an Amazon warrior when it comes to me.  The rest of the world
sees her as a pocket Venus.  Small, perfect, still achingly lovely in her
late sixties.  Barely five feet tall with blond hair and violet eyes, my
father towers over her at six-two. 

They
are determined to live forever so I’m always protected.  It’s my hope,
too.  That they’ll live forever…not that they’ll always have to protect
me.  My father still looks as though he could take up a weapon to defend
me.  Dark brown hair and green eyes.  Leanly muscled. 

I’m
a blend of my parents.  Five-six, dark brown hair with a tendency to gain
blond highlights during the summer.  My violet eyes are darker than my
mother’s.  I’ve always been athletic like Dad, possessed of a gentle way
with others like Mom. 

I’ve
always liked the description of ‘coltish’ that my parent’s friends have applied
to me.  Built for speed and endurance, stronger than I look with a love of
running and a hint of wildness.  It fits me. 

My
father approached the bed and sat beside me.  “How are you feeling, pretty
princess?”  I love my father’s hands.  They’re large and warm, more
calloused than people would expect for a man of means. 

“I’m
good, Dad.  Are you both here to try to talk me into coming home again?”

A
gentle smile touched his face.  “No.  Ellie, we’re
taking
you
home.  There won’t be any discussion.”  From the corner of my eye, I
watched as my mother touched cheeks with Mrs. Geldin and held the door wide as
she left.  Then she closed and locked it, turning to me with a resolute
expression on her face.

“I…I
think I should finish recovering here…”  Watching their eyes, my voice
trailed off as understanding hit me.  “You know.”  I glanced around
and noted the IPod speaker system they’d placed in my room when I’d been
admitted.  “You’ve been bugging the room this entire time.”  I closed
my eyes with embarrassment and more than a little worry. 

I
felt my mother sit on the other side of my bed.  “Ellie.  Look at me,
love.”  The tears were falling before my lids fully lifted.  “The
casts come off in three weeks.  I found a positively evil physical
therapist to come and work with you five days a week to get you back to full
mobility.  Theresa and her team promise that’s possible and will continue
monitoring you from home.”

“Thank
you.”

Dad
stroked my cheek.  “Why are you alone so much, Ellie?”

I
gave a small shrug, “I hate the not knowing.”  Dad’s face told me he
understood what I meant.  “If I were the heiress to millions that would be
one thing.  To be an heiress to billions, even if money isn’t important to
me, I just never know.”

Both
of my parents opened their mouths to dispute this simple fact but I
smiled.  “No matter how you vet them, you can’t know the inner workings of
someone’s mind.  If that was possible, all seven of those men would have
disappeared at the bottom of a rock quarry covered in lime…and I would have
been holding one of the scoops to sprinkle the bodies.”

“Ellie…”

“No,
Mom.  I know I was the one who pled for mercy.  I asked you to give
them a chance.  I asked you to spare them because they were young and I
thought they could change.  I was painfully naïve, I realize that
now.  I…I punished Hyde as horribly as I punished myself.”

Mom
stood and began to pace, suddenly crying out, “Ellie, he was not
raped!
 
No one should ever experience what you went through!  What you’re going to
go through!”  She slapped her hand over her mouth. 

“I…I’m
so sorry, baby.  Men rarely know what it means to be raped.  Physical
torture is bad enough.  Rape goes deeper than the physical.  It is a
rape of the mind, of the emotions.  Women…we go through our entire lives
protecting our bodies but it is our minds that suffer most.” 

She
closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I am horrified by what Hyde
endured.  Absolutely horrified.  But
no one
was more
brutalized than you, Elliana.”

“Don’t,
Mom.  Don’t think about it.” 

“Hyde
would give his life for yours.  You cannot torture yourself over what
happened.”

“Is
it so difficult to understand that I don’t
want
someone to give their
life for mine, Mom?  My protection detail, the employees I’ve grown up
with, and the two of you and your friends…that is the extent of the people I
have to talk to.  The only friends and family I have.”  I hated the
lump in my throat. 

Dad
petted my hair, “No, Ellie.  Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

I
hated being lonely but even more, I hated that I could lose my only friends to
violence.  “I…I want something of my own.  I’m keeping this
child.  Others might consider this child an abomination.  I consider
it an unexpected bright side.”

Mom
nodded and came back to perch on my bed, stroking the hair on the other side of
my head.  “Then keep it you shall.  Your baby, our grandchild, will
never
know a life without love.” 

“Thank
you, thank you for understanding.  I doubt there could be a stupider
mother-to-be but I’ll learn.”

Her
fingertips on my cheek, Mom whispered, “You were always amazing with Preston,
Ellie.  He adored you; you could do no wrong with that little boy.”

Fresh
tears started as I thought of the little boy I’d met at a charity function for
the Boys & Girls Club in the summer of my sophomore year of college. 
A little boy caught in the system who was half-black, half-white and HIV
positive.  He was also crack-addicted and had been beaten by his crack-head
mother until permanent brain damage had rendered him mentally disabled. 
He was only six and everything that could have gone wrong in his life certainly
had. 

Something
made him gravitate to me, made him walk up and slip his small hand into mine,
and I’d fallen instantly in love with him.  I found every reason possible
to visit him and see how he was doing.  I organized huge outings with
every child at the center where he lived to spend time in his company. 

Anything
to make his life easier, a little more bearable. 

He
died in his sleep from HIV complications and an undetected blood clot that had
been waiting quietly since the final beating he’d received two years
before.  He was found within the hour, a little smile on his face. 
Preston was still clutching the stuffed turtle I’d bought him during a zoo trip
for the center. 

That
little boy’s death had hit me harder than those close to me could
understand.  I had him buried in our family cemetery and I put the stuffed
animal in the coffin with him.

“Preston
was easy to be good to, Mom.  He…he asked for nothing and loved every
single moment.  I wanted to adopt him.  I’d already talked to the
attorneys about it.  And then he was just…gone.”  I took a deep
breath, unable to meet my parent’s eyes. 

“I’m
stuck in stasis; unable to move forward or back.  If not for the
charitable work I do for you both, I would have no purpose, no direction. 
Now…now I’ll have the stigma of
this
.  I’m nothing more than a
story.  Like a sideshow attraction.”

The
fury I felt, though not shouted, must have bled into my expression.  I was
clenching my jaw and my good hand so tightly the joints ached.

My
father’s rage matched my own and, just like me, he kept his voice controlled
and even.  “Hyde and Si have taken out one of the three men, Ellie.” 

I
flicked my eyes to his green ones and silently asked him the question I wanted
the answer to.  It was something I thought about at night and it should
have shamed me.  I thought myself civilized, kind, sometimes too
influenced by the gentler emotions. 

My
need for blood did not shame me.

He
understood and answered honestly.  “He went hard.  Every minute of
your time in that building was repaid.  His body will never be found.”

Shockingly,
I felt a smile curve my lips before I caught myself and bit my lip.  My
mother took my cheeks in her hands.  “Don’t you
dare
feel bad about
wanting their blood, about wanting them to scream.”

I
held her small pale hand in my larger, tanned one.  “If only their deaths
assured
no one
would remember.”  My tears were unexpected and the
accompanying sobs more so.  My parents held me and did what they could to
soothe me. 

After
a long time, I calmed myself and leaned back to give my parents the closest
thing to a smile I could manage.  As subtly as I could, I asked, “Do…do
you think Hyde will come back to work after he finds them?”

My
mother stared at me intently and I had the strange feeling she could see into
my soul and knew all the secrets I held there.  “I think, short of death,
you will find it impossible to peel Hyde from your side for the rest of your
days, Ellie.” 

I
nodded, picking pretend lint from the blanket over my lap.  “Elliana, if
you ever found someone to love, someone who loved you, we would welcome that
person with open arms without questions or conditions.  I hope you know
that.”

I
took my time answering.  “I won’t ever find love like that.  It’s
just…there are so few people I…I care for, that I can trust, and whose company
I can be easy in.  When I lost Sensei Pendragon, I felt it deeply. 
He’d been my instructor for so many years.  The people around me, who
protect me and take care of me, I forget they’re paid.  I forget they’re
with me because I’m an assignment, a job.  I
try
to forget.” 

Lost
in thought, I cleared my throat and admitted, “I have a pretend world. 
Bianca is my older sister who is more world-traveled and confident than
me.  If I have a question about something I overhear or see, I can ask her
without feeling like she thinks I’m stupid.  She’s so pretty, like a Valkyrie. 
Fierce and feminine.”  I added quietly, “If I could choose a sister, it
would be her.”

I
glanced out the window with a smile, “Si taught me to cook and laughs with me
when I mess up.  When I accomplished the oh-so-delicate Crème Brule, he
bought me a pastry torch of my own.  It was engraved with my name and the
date I’d gotten it right.  Did I ever tell you that?”  My parents
shook their heads but didn’t speak.  I was glad they didn’t.