There’s no more time to think about it, though, as Cannon quickly exits the SUV to precede us into the house to get everyone the hell out of the way. I get out and go around to the passenger side where Kingston is pushing the door open. Elliot clings to him. His eyes meet mine, and I know he’s anxious to get her inside and make her feel safe. That’s priority one. But I also see that he wants to know what happened before we got to her… and everything that led up to her kidnapping by that twisted asshole.
My eyes lock on the house, and I’m unable to decide whether it’s good or bad that I don’t hear anything from inside. I wonder how Cannon is managing to herd them away from the entry. I’m positive that Alec hasn’t kept his mouth shut, and they’ll all be curious as fuck to know what’s going on. From the front door, we can see all the way into the living area at the back of the house, so obviously, the same is true in reverse. He’ll have to get everyone either to their rooms, out to the patio, or downstairs.
Kingston eases out of the SUV with Elliot in his arms, ignoring her whispers to put her down. I shut the door behind them, and we make our way up the stairs to the porch. Several minutes go by while Elliot’s anxiety over being here kicks into full gear.Come on, Cannon.I know he’s doing what we told him to do, but fuck, from the look on Elliot’s face, we need her inside. Now. She’s visibly shaking, and since we all saw what went down the last time she was out here on the porch, I don’t blame her one bit.
Just then, Cannon opens the door for us, his face drawn. Lifting one hand, he beckons us inside. Kingston brings Elliot inside first, and heads immediately up the stairs.
I pause in the foyer. “Did they give you trouble?”
Cannon already has his phone at the ready.
No.
Just being their usual dickish selves.
Slow to understand I meant business.
Slower to actually move their asses.
I nod, having expected no less, then draw in a deep breath. “We should go up.”
He holds his finger up before typing out something else.
Dane’s here.
We should ask how she seemed when he left her.
Know what I mean?
“Agreed.” I reach out, patting his shoulder. “But honestly, I think that’s the least of our worries right now.” I huff out a sigh. “Not that we won’t get to it, because I’m not letting jackshit slip past us.”
He gestures toward the stairs, and we jog up them. Parting in the hallway, he heads for Elliot’s room, where I also assume Kingston has taken her, and I let myself into my room. Hurrying into the bathroom, I pull open the drawer with all the supplies I had out not too long ago while I was bandaging up Kingston’s split knuckles. It’s crazy how slow the passage of time seems since Elliot got here… but also how stupid fast everything has happened, too. Piling my arms full, I cross the hall, not even bothering to knock.
I pause mid-stride as Kingston’s low murmurs come to me from the bathroom. “Baby, you have to let us help you.”
Her voice comes out on a stutter. “I-I can do it myself.”
“That’s not the point, Elle. I know this is hard for you. But I’m not leaving this room until I have a look. If you really think Cannon and Archer can’t handle it, I’ll ask them to leave. But you know it’ll only create more questions for later.” He pauses and there’s dead silence among the three of them. “Maybe it’s time.”
I grimace, continuing into the dimly lit bathroom and taking in the scene. Cannon paces back and forth across the smooth marble-tiled floor, his hands on top of his head, fingers threaded together. He glances at Elliot, then away again as he drags in a ragged breath. He’s no better off than he was in that dirty motel and every bit as keyed up.
Kingston has Elliot on the counter, the bath towel we stole from the awful motel underneath her and the smaller one trapped between her legs. His grip on the marble on either side of her legs is so tight, the flesh covering his knuckles is turning white. He’s got his hips cocked back as he leans forward, bringing his face to eye level with her.
Our girl’s blinking a lot, and I’ll be damned… She’s forcing back tears when she should be letting them loose, though I have a horrible feeling that maybe she’s dealt with more than she’s ever let on—to any of us.
I wet my lips, approaching them quietly and setting the first-aid supplies next to them before leaning one hip against the counter at their side. “So, what exactly are we dealing with here?” I glance from Elliot to Kingston while Cannon hovers behind us like a wild beast ready to be unleashed.
Kingston looks directly at Elliot as he answers me, his voice deadly low, “He cut her. With a razor blade.”
A huffed, disturbed breath exits Cannon; he’s not going to take this well at all.
As for me, my heart thumps madly in my chest, and I ignore the sick feeling in my stomach, reaching over to poke the button on the mirror that lights up its perimeter. “Sorry. I’m going to need more light to determine how deep the cut is.”
Elliot stiffens in response to my statement, then murmurs,“Cuts.He cut me three times.”
My eyes flash to meet Kingston’s in the reflection. That sick fuck. I don’t know if Kingston understands exactly what’s going through my mind, but he’s probably got the gist from the grim set of my jaw. It twitches maddeningly as I begin to wonder if she’s going to let us take a look at all. I tuck a few fingers under her trembling chin and guide her face to mine. “Elliot, remember what you said to Cannon after his seizure? Whatever we see or whatever you tell us, it’s not going to change a damn thing. No matter what, you’re still the same person we’ve come to know. You’re still the girl we’re falling for.”
Her sad, anxious eyes roam my face, finally coming back to meet my worried ones. She chews on her lip, nodding.
