We chatted about the book that Sioux and I were reading and how things were going with her. Elijah commented that he was happy to hear that I was socializing more, which made me think back to what my mom had said last week about Elijah not really being interested in the genealogy project.
“You seem distracted, Salem. What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“It’s probably silly and dumb, but my mom said something last week to me that has bothered me ever since. It has to do with you,” I began.
“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side slightly. “Let’s talk about it.”
“Okay. Good, I’m glad because I don’t really know what to think.”
“Then this is definitely something we should discuss. Please,” he encouraged and gestured toward me to begin.
“Okay. Last week, I told her that you told me that I had inspired you and that you had become interested in ancestry. She told me that you probably weren’t really, but you were doing it to try to encourage me to be less introverted.”
“I see. And how did that make you feel?”
“Terrible!” I laughed and shook my head. “I believed we were friends and that you really had an active interest in the genealogy stuff. But when she’d said that to me, I worried and started second guessing it,” I confessed.
Elijah’s eyes remained on mine while he rubbed the stubble on his jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, only nothing came out, and he closed it again. My pulse began to race because I thought there might be truth to what my mom had said after all.
“Would you excuse me for one moment, Salem? I need to get something from my office,” Elijah said before he stood.
What, was I going to say, ‘no?’
“Okay,” I replied quietly.
“Don’t get your mind made up about anything until I come back, Miss Peace.”
With his hand on the doorknob, he turned and winked at me, then he walked out of the office. A few moments later he came back with the notebook that I’d helped him organize last week. Elijah closed the door and sat on the loveseat. He set the notebook down on the table and thumbed to a particular page. When he found the page he was looking for, he turned it so I could see it. Written on the page were new entries about his mother, two of his aunts, and his grandmother.
“I was able to get this page written out and created the branches for the men my aunts had married.” Elijah paused and looked at me. “I did this over the weekend using the website you’d sent me with the format suggestions for organization. If I weren’t genuinely interested in one, being your friend, and two, being interested in my ancestors, then why would I work on this over a weekend?”
“You wouldn’t.” I smiled at him, hoping my smile conveyed that I’d understood and believed him.
He closed the notebook and scooted forward on the loveseat. Elijah’s feet were shoulder width apart, and his elbows rested on his knees with his large hands clasped in front of him.
“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Salem. Never doubt that I want to be your friend. We are friends, no matter whatanyonesays, including your mother. If ever you are in doubt, you have my cell phone number. You can text me anytime for reassurance. Do you understand?”
I nodded before I said, “Thank you.”
“Also, and this is very serious, you need to be very careful who you send pictures like that to. You have no idea who any of those men at Thomas’s parties are. They could have ulterior motives and end up becoming a problem. You don’t need a stalker on your case. Give me your word that you will stop sending pictures and videos to other men.”
“I promise I will stop. I don’t do it very often,” I tried to explain.
“Your mood and temperament seem to dictate when you send them at all. That alone is very dangerous. If ever you end up in any sort of trouble from them, you call me. Do you understand?”
I nodded quickly, confirming that I’d understood. His tone told me that he was dead serious about this, and I needed to stop. The next thing that popped into my head was whether or not he was going to tell my mom. If he did, that would bring on a whole other level of problems.
“I’ll stop, I promise. Are you going to tell my mom?”
“No, I’m not going to tell your mother. If I felt you were a threat to yourself and considering self-harm, I would talk with her. If I felt that one of those men were a problem … I would handle things.”
Handle things?That sounded hot and sexy, and I wanted to hear him elaborate on that.
“Handle things?” I let my question hang in the air.
His eyes were glued to mine, but he took some time before he replied.
“If you were upset or in danger, I would handle things.”
