I also had a message from Exile telling me that Elle was on her way home.
Finally, I looked at my messages from Elle. The first one said she killed a man, but no one important. The second one was a selfie at the hospital with her smiling and a bandage over her eyebrow. The third one was a picture of an ultrasound image with the words “Wilbur flashing his crack.”
I hated how Elle was clearly trying to chill me out over what happened. Her final message was a weird shot of flesh. I assumed she sent it by mistake.
“That’s a close-up shot of my boob,” she clarified in the next message. “You’re welcome."
Though I smiled at her gesture, exhaustion washed over me. I needed Elle to be a bigger part of my life. The status quo couldn’t work. Something had to give, and I wasn’t sure if she was willing to bend to my needs.
As I rode for the next few hours, I considered a lot of options on how to spend more time with Elle. The only one that made sense was for her to move to Baton Rouge. Of course, that option wouldn’t interest Elle.
I finally arrived at the Reed house around dinner time. Clint sat on the front porch with Ivy. He instantly moved to meet me before I could enter the house.
“She’s okay.”
“I want revenge.”
“There’s no one left to kill. Elle iced the guy, and they’re still mopping up the bitch from the intersection.”
“There’s got to be someone who can pay for what happened.”
“We can steal the guy’s body and let you chop it up,” Clint offered. “As long as I get to piss on it before you get started.”
“Deal,” I said, appreciating how he understood my rage.
“Don’t stress Elle by talking about revenge. She’s rattled but calm right now. The doctors checked her out. Everything looks good. But her getting stressed is bad for the baby.”
“I like when you dumb down shit for me, man.”
“I knew you’d appreciate my helpful nature,” Clint said and offered a tight smile. “But seriously, Elle was a very anxious teenager. I don’t want today’s crap to stir up old habits.”
“She’s fine,” Sabrina insisted while walking past us and onto the porch. “If she stops being fine, we’ll tie her down and make her watch ‘In the Mouth of Madness’ until she gets over her anxiety.”
With Sabrina headed wherever Elle was located, I ditched Clint and followed her. I felt him behind me, probably shooting daggers at my back.
Sabrina walked through the house and down the stairs. Shay sat on the couch with Sutter. They both stared at me like I was a monster entering their safe space.
Nodding at them, I kept close to Sabrina until we reached Elle’s room. Then, I jumped in front of Sabrina and took the lead.
“Fucker,” she hissed.
Ignoring her anger, I focused on Elle curled up on her side. When she saw me, she asked, “Did you see the picture of Wilbur?”
“How’s your goose egg?” Sabrina asked, zeroing in on the knot over Elle’s eyebrow.
“Throbbing,” Elle replied as her gaze held mine. “Your son flashed his crack at me during the ultrasound. He’s already a smartass.”
Approaching the bed, I leaned down and whispered, “You need to quit your job and stay home.”
"Stop trying to shove me in a box,” Elle snarled.
"It's for your own good."
"No fucking way."
Smiling, I kissed the lump on her forehead. "I think if I designed a comfy enough box, you'd climb inside and let me close the lid."
Elle shared my smile, but her eyes revealed zero interest in getting cozy inside any boxes I might create for her.
