WHITE WALLS (20 page)

I'd cry in my tiny, child-like voice waiting for Daddy come in and comfort me.

But he didn't comfort me.

He'd open my bedroom door and shout, “Either you shut up, or I'll shut you up! “I remember the nights after that where I'd dream and wake up crying, only to smother my sobs with my pillow in fear of waking the hideous beast in the room next to mine and ask Mommy why? Why did you leave? Why didn't you take me too? I know you loved me so why did you leave me with him?

Another bludgeoning howl cuts into my quiet thoughts.

Slipping out of bed, I tiptoe to my bedroom door. I know Elijah wouldn't want this. He wouldn't want me to come to him, while he's dreaming of what I assume are ravenous and wicked ways of the past. But I know that when I was in his shoes, that's all I wanted. All I wanted was comfort. And warm arms. And loving words. All I wanted was to know someone was there.

To care.

To watch over me.

To keep me away from daddy and away from the forceful blow from his fist.

I know where Elijah’s bedroom is, but I’ve never been inside of it. Three doors down from his study, I can still hear the pain in his voice as it seeps through the walls. Pushing softly on the door, I step into the dark bedroom and close the door behind me. Elijah is twisted beneath his white cotton sheets, his jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. One of the lamps on the bedside table is on and my eyes center on the contours of his bare, muscled chest as the shadows dance along the ridges.

He screams again, thrashing.

I go to him.

Slide into bed next to him.

Pull him to my chest and wrap my arms around him.

Whisper, “Shhh,” into his ear.

He relaxes and his limbs slack beneath my arms. I can’t see him clearly, but my fingers skim over the hard lines of his face and my chin rests just above his golden waves. I rock him in my arms like he’s my child, relief overwhelming me as his howls twist from sobs to whimpers. Then I hear it. It cuts into the darkness like Jack the Ripper on Durwood Street.

I hear it just as it leaves his lips.

My name.

“Adelaide,” his voice shakes and I feel him tense beneath my fingertips.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m here.”

He tries to sit up, but I tighten my hold around him. He struggles, wiggling to try and get me to loosen my grip. “You need to go back to your room.” He raises his voice, but its level. “You shouldn’t have come in here.”

My fingers fan across his face and I know we’re looking into each other’s eyes. “You were screaming.” I touch his eyelashes. His lips. “Your cries were heart-wrenching. I had to do something.”

He manages to pull away from me and sits on the side of the bed, his elbows to his knees, and his head in his hands. “I never wanted anyone to see me like that.”

A sob gets stuck in my throat and my emotions are all mixed up. I want to comfort him. I want to lie here with him and hold him all night long, but at the same time I can’t understand why in God’s name this man is so ashamed of his nightmares. “I don’t understand,” I say and place my hand against his shoulder. “Everyone has nightmares, Elijah. They’re nothing to be ashamed of.” For eight years I felt like I was living in one and I got through it.

He stands and paces next to the bed. “Not like mine, Adelaide. My nightmares aren’t normal.” He faces me, hands on his hips, waves of amber eyes washing over my face. “I break things. Scream. I’m violent. I could hurt someone. I could hurt you.”

I don’t care what he says. “I know you won’t hurt me, Elijah.” I pat the empty spot next to me. “Come lie down. We can talk about it.”

He shakes his head and continues pacing. He runs a hand through his hair. “Can you imagine what people would think of such a weak man?” he scoffs. “I sob in my sleep. How could I ever have a normal relationship? No one would understand. No woman would understand. They’d run Adelaide.” His eyes find mine again. “Why aren’t you running? Why aren’t you afraid?”

I slip out of bed and lace my fingers through his. “I’ll never run,” I say honestly. A soft smile curls on my lips and massage the crook between his thumb and forefinger with mine. “Even if I had somewhere else to go, I wouldn’t run.”

“Why? Most women would?” His voice cracks. “I’ve had these dreams since my father died. He wasn’t…He wasn’t…” He stutters. “He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a kind man.” Something tells me that even though he puts up a hard front on the outside, Elijah is just as broken as I was and still am in some ways on the inside. Something else tells me that we me just be what each other needs to keep each other from falling apart. “My mother died when I was twelve. My father lost it after that. He blamed me for her death. You see, I stepped out in front of a car and my mother pushed me out of the way. The car hit her and she died on impact. That’s part of the reason I became a doctor. I sat there in the middle of the street with her wrapped in my arms. I tried to save her, Adelaide. I tried to give her CPR. I tried to pump the life back into her.” His voice cracks and he plops down on the bed. His chest vibrates and I hold him, trying to stop the shaking. “I couldn’t save her, Adelaide. I couldn’t save her and I’ll never forget it. I relive that moment every night in my dreams and I relive the way my father treated me after.” He clears his throat and his gaze drops to his hands. “He used to lock me in a closet. A small, square storage cubby. He used to tell me it was because I was bad, but I knew better. I knew he locked me in there because I reminded him of her. And because I was a constant reminder of the day she died.”

I squeeze his hand. I’ve waited all this time for him to open and it’s strange because now I wish he wouldn’t have. His past was painful. Almost as painful as mine and him bringing up his past reminds me of mine. I choke down a sob and close my eyes. Then I clear my throat and tell him, “It gets better, Elijah. But I can promise you, if you spend all of your time alone. All of the pain and the misery will eat you alive.” I know this all too well. Sometimes I think that Aurora is one of the reasons that I survived my time at Oakhill. I’m confident that if I wouldn’t have met her, I would have succeeded in committing suicide at some point. Or let Damien keep me in a fucked up reality forever. “I’ve had nightmares too.” I’m sure he remembers because he’s witnessed a few of them. “And what was it that you told me?”

He smiles and my heart skips a beat. “That nothing in your dreams can hurt you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but the moment I do, something unexpected happens. Elijah’s lips are on mine. His hands slide up my collar bone and tangle in my hair. He breathes into my mouth and I taste his cool mint breath as his tongue parts my lips.

A bomb has gone off inside of me.

An explosion of want.

It trickles through my bloodstream to the tips of my nerve endings.

And it’s like all of my senses are heightened.

I’m warm. Warm everywhere. And as Elijah’s body presses mine back onto the bed, I feel the desire burning low in my belly. Pretty soon I know my whole body will be up in flames. “Adelaide.” His lips are against my neck and my name comes out muffled. “I want you. I have for months. I just…I just…”

“Shhh.” My lips are against his. My heart is racing. And as his arm snakes around my waist and he presses into me harder, I know this moment is perfect. It’s perfect because we’re just two vulnerable, people with cracked hearts that need healed and broken pasts that need mended.

Elijah’s hand slides up my bare stomach and a series of tingles washes over my entire body. My fingers glide up his arms over the rocky, ridges of his chiseled biceps. His tongue traces a line from my collar bone to my earlobe. I let out the moan I’ve been holding in my throat and he whispers, “You’re so beautiful. And I’ve thought that since the moment you were tossed into my ER.”

I giggle and his lips silence my giggle.

I know we’re not perfect.

We’re messed up in more way than one.

I know we both have issues.

“Kiss me,” I whisper into his mouth and Elijah responds immediately, twirling his tongue around mine and lacing his fingers through my hair.

He lifts his head, gazing down at me, not an ounce of coldness in his eyes. No. There’s nothing but fire in his warm eyes. His thumbs massage my cheeks. “We can stop,” he says. “We don’t have to—”

My lips reach up and caress his.

Softly.

Sensually.

“I don’t want to stop,” I whisper.

 
“Me neither,” Elijah whispers into my mouth. “I can’t promise that I’ll be able to give you everything you deserve, Adelaide.” He gazes deep into my eyes and his fingers skim my cheeks, tucking strand of black behind my ears. “But I can promise you that I’ll try.”

Yes. We both have issues.

And I know that if we want to overcome all of our issues the only way we’ll be able to do it, is together.

Chapter Twenty Seven

~Before~

The sound of Aurora’s voice rides the coat-tails of the winds as it whips through my hair.

Run Adelaide, run!

I am running.

Even though I have no idea where I’m going.

And the orderly trailing behind me is probably going tom catch up to me any minute. The thought of being free pumps through my body and fills me with so much joy; it makes me pump my weakened legs harder.

It makes me run faster.

But the orderly is too fast.

He grips onto my waist, just outside of the entrance to the forest and tackles me. Digging his knees into my biceps and pinning me to the ground. “No!” I scream and try to move my arms. “NO!” Every time I try to more the orderly puts more weight on me. Digs his knees in deeper.

“And where did you think you were going?” his deep voice is laced with fake curiosity and I wish I had the use of my hands so I could swat at him. I try to spit at him, but his face is too far away from mine. He laughs when a wad of my spit lands on my cheek. He leans over and his stale breath wafts up my nose. “You want to know something?” A second later, he licks my spit off my cheek, swallows it and places his moist lips against my ear. “I’ve always had a thing for brunettes.” There’s finality in his tone and I know deep down in my gut something bad is going to happen.

I buck beneath him as he repositions himself and then I hear him say his brooding, heavily accented voice, “Not yet, sweetheart. I know you’re anxious, but patience is a virtue.”

Inside I’m panicking, but I’m determined not to show. There are insects running laps through my nervous system and there is parasite of fear attached to my spine. I need help. I need help.

But we’re a half a mile away from Oakhill.

With terrified eyes I glance at the orderly. He’s at my feet, removing his shoe laces to tie me up. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Out of nowhere, I hear a grunt. The orderly grunts and slumps over in pain. He’s awake so that won’t give me much time.

But what happened to him?

I get to my feet and my eyes widen. My fear and panic is replaced with a throbbing pain that circulates through my heart. “Mommy,” I whisper, tears brimming in my eyes.

Monique.

My mommy.

She stands next to orderly, her violet eyes pierced with worry and anger. She glares down at him, her pale cheeks flushed. “Fly away little bird,” she says. Her voice is soft yet chilling. “Fly away.”

Mommy doesn’t have to tell me twice. I flap my wings and take off through the trees, into the shadows, and the dead of the night.

Chapter Twenty Eight

~After~

Months have passed.

Elijah opens up to me a little more every day.

And he’s so different when he opens up. It’s like the terrified child locked in the dark closet of his brain is finally able to come outside and play in the light. When I see him happy, it makes me happy. And I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Mainly because Daddy always had a way of cutting my happiness short in the past. Or making sure it didn’t exist at all.

Elijah and I are leaving for the beach today. He’s full of surprises. I think he’s trying to make up for all of the time we both lost as children.