Page 54 of Taking What's Ours
Rosie barks and runs to the entryway, and I scurry after her. I see a man through the glass and suck in my breath.
Elliott.
“Let me in, Elaina. I just want to talk.”
I crack the door about four inches. “There’s nothing to talk about, Elliott. Whatever we had is over.”
He pushes inside, surprising me with the sudden aggression. He looks haggard, like he hasn’t slept, but that’s ridiculous. I doubt he’s lost sleep over me.
“What the hell are you doing here, Elaina? Where’s my brother?”
“He’s…” I trail off; inside me, warning bells are clanging, and a voice is screaming,don’t tell him you’re alone. “Why are you here, Elliott?”
“My father told me you were with my brother.” He paces and drags a hand through his hair. His skin is sweaty, and I suddenly wonder if he’s on something. He whirls back on me. “I couldn’t fucking believe it. What were you thinking?”
“Maybe the same thing you were thinking when you slept with my cousin.”
“I told you that was bullshit.”
I roll my eyes and whirl, walking way. I don’t get two feet before he clamps a hand on my arm and yanks me around.
Rosie emits a low growl, and Elliott flicks his gaze to her. “Tell your dog to lie down or so help me God, I’ll slit her throat.”
The look in his eyes is wild. Now I’m sure he’s on something. “Calm down and lower your voice, and she’ll relax.”
He shakes me by the arm. “Tell her.”
“Rosie. Down.”
She backs up a couple feet and lies down, but she’s alert, and I thank God she’s here with me. Though, I don’t doubt Elliott’s threat to hurt her, and I’m scared for both of us.
“Where’s the license, Elaina?”
“The license? I don’t have it.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he yells, and Rosie jumps to her feet. “Put the dog out on the deck.”
I hesitate, and he moves to the kitchen island and spots the knife block. He doesn’t pull one, but his threat is clear.
I lift a hand. “Okay, I’ll put her out. Just calm down.”
“Now.”
Grabbing Rosie’s collar, I lead her to the door and put her out on the deck. For a split second, I think about dashing to the apartment and locking the door, but I feel him at my back and know I’ll never make it. The moment the door is closed, he reaches past me and flips the lock, then whirls me around.
“Get me the license.”
“I don’t have it.” I don’t know what makes me stand up to him, what makes me lie. Perhaps because if he gets his hands on it, he’ll file it, and I can’t let him do that. Over his shoulder I see my cell phone on the island.
He catches my glance and follows my eyes. “Who are you thinking about calling, Elaina? Dylan, perhaps? He’s obviously not here. Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Liar. When’s he coming back?”
“Any minute now,” I lie.
He grins. “You always were a lousy liar, sweetheart. No, I don’t think he’s going to be back any time soon.”