NINE
Ellie stood in the kitchen for a long time after he left, feeling a little more taken aback than she really had the right to. So what if he needed to rush out? And was a bit... gruff. From the stories she heard about him, that was his personality. Just because he took pity on her for having a nightmare didn't change his everyday personality.
She was projecting her feelings of connection onto him. And she shouldn't even have felt that way. It didn't mean anything. People shared beds with other people all the time. So what if he slipped a hand under her shirt? And traced circles on her skin? And buried his hands in her hair? Nothing had actually happened. He hadn't even implied he was thinking about her that way.
He had even went out of his way to tell her that she wasn't his type.
Ellie washed the coffee cups and walked over to make the bed. She was horny, she realized with a hysterical giggle. That was the problem. Why she was horny was another question. She didn't even really like sex. Sure, there had been times when the intimacy had felt nice once upon a time. But she never experienced the clawing need for sex. Or the fireworks during sex that everyone else talked about.
So wanting Xander was weird.
With a shrug, she showered and changed into black leggings and a nondescript v-necked gray t-shirt. She had just finished pulling her hair into a French braid that reached half-way down her back when there was a knocking on the front door. Her heart leapt into her throat, her heart slamming in her chest. She stepped carefully into the hallway, watching the door as if it was about to burst inward.
Because Xander always said it was him.
She tiptoed back toward the apartment, trying to convince herself to calm down. It was probably a client. Or a friend. Not every knock on the door meant horror. In fact, he almost never knocked. He just found his way in. And waited for her.
"Xander," a woman's voice called through the door. "Open up. It's Hannah."
Ellie stopped moving, her hand frozen on the door. Hannah. Hannah Clary. That was his client who he felt guilty about. Should she let anyone in his office when he wasn't around? She didn't even know when he would be home.
But he needed to see her.
She moved in through the office and unlocked the front door, pulling it open to find Hannah and Elliott Michaels standing there. He looked completely out of place in his immaculate three-piece suit in such an awful neighborhood.
"Oh," Hannah said, her gray eyes widening, "hi," she mumbled, dropping her hand from the door. But not before Ellie saw the scars. They were bright red, angry, awful looking scars around her wrists. They were scars that only come from fighting against some kind of binding, scars that came from being held against your will. They were scars like she herself had on her wrists.
"Hi," Ellie said, taking in the woman's long black hair and curvy body with a bit of envy. Elliott was tall and good looking with dark hair and blue eyes. He looked at her for a moment, before snaking an arm around his girlfriend's waist. What should she tell him? She was the maid? The secretary? His girlfriend? "Xander just ran out on a job. He should be back pretty soon if you would like to wait."
She could feel them staring at her, taking in her black eye that had started to take on a green and yellow tint around the blue, the scratches on her face, her cut lip. She could almost hear the thoughts pass through their heads. Abused woman. Hannah smiled at her softly, as if sensing, or expecting skittishness in the small blonde-haired, blue-eyed, battered woman in front of her. "If you don't mind..."
"Not at all," Ellie said, moving out of the way. "I'm... Ellie," she said, looking awkwardly around the office. It really wasn't meant for receiving guests.
"I'm..."
"Hannah," Ellie finished. "And you're Elliott," she said, inclining her head at him. He really was good looking in a very distant, almost cold kind of way. He wore his power like an aura around him.
"Do you work for Xander?" Hannah asked, moving to sit on the edge of the desk.
"Oh, no," she said, deciding the truth would probably be the easiest course of action. "He's working on a case for me." They both nodded at her and a awkward silence fell. She didn't even have a cell number to call Xander at to tell him to get back. "Do you guys want some coffee?" she asked after a long minute.
"That would be great," Hannah smiled, nodding.
"Cream or sugar?" Ellie asked, wincing a bit at the rehearsed sound to her words. Years of serving tables did that to you.
"Black," Elliott said, looking at the pictures on the corkboard, "for both of us," he said and received a pointed stare from Hannah and smiled, shaking his head. "Please," he added.
Ellie let herself in to the apartment, taking her time pouring the cups, in no hurry to get back to the uncomfortable silence in the other room. She could hear them talking to each other in quiet tones, unaware how the sound carried.
"This is where you went for help?" Elliott asked, his tone disbelieving.
"Trust me," Hannah said, sounding confident. "I did research. Xander is who you want on your side. I just... waited too long."
Ellie walked back in as they stepped away from each other like guilty teenagers. What must it be like to be that infatuated with another person?
Ellie had just handed them their cups when the door opened, Xander looking down at his phone. "What the hell are you thinking leaving the door unloc..." his voice trailed off, looking up and seeing Hannah. His eyes looked confused at first, like he wasn't sure about what he was actually seeing. Then his eyes fell automatically to her wrists and a guarded darkness came over his features.
"Sorry," Ellie said, admitting it was really stupid of her to not lock the door after them. "I wasn't sure if it was okay to..."
"It's fine," he said, his tone firm, but oddly gentle. Like he didn't want her apology.
"Hey Xander," Hannah said, smiling at him. "How have you been?"
Xander shook his head. "Fine. How have you been?"
"All better," she said, waving a hand. "I called. Left messages..."
"I've been busy," he hedged, looking like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him right then and there.
"I wanted to thank..."
"You have nothing to thank me for," Xander said, moving behind the desk and opening a drawer. He pulled out a manila folder and held it out to her. "Actually, I've been meaning to have this sent back to you," he said shoving it toward her until she had to take it.
She looked at it suspiciously, opening the tab and looking inside. "Absolutely not," she said, shoving it against his chest, making him stumble back a foot.
Ellie almost wanted to laugh. A big, hulking man like Xander being pushed back a step by a pretty black-haired woman in heels. Judging by the strange tilt to the edge of Elliott's lips, he was having the same struggle with his composure.
"Sweetheart..." he started and then looked almost guiltily at Elliott. "Hannah," he corrected himself, "I didn't do the job you hired me to do. I owe you your money back."
"You did a lot of work on the case," Hannah corrected. When he still refused to grab the folder, she threw it on his desk. "You read all those notes. And you broke into my apartment..." she said, almost laughing. "You got into a fist fight with Elliott..."
Ellie looked at Elliott, who nodded at her. She tried to imagine the fight: huge dangerous Xander rolling around on the ground with impeccably dressed, powerful Elliott Michaels. It was a funny image and she found herself bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.
"And then you were drugged, kidnapped, and tortured," Xander said, his tone attempting to sound rational, but sounding sad instead. He was trying to keep it together. The absolute last thing he had expected to deal with that day was a confrontation with Hannah. He wouldn't have even considered the idea that Ellie would have let anyone in his office. He glanced over at her, her hand covering her lips. Maybe her fear had slipped when she heard a female voice. Maybe she felt comfortable letting someone in who had been similarly abused.
Hannah was in rare form. Haughty and determined. Angry almost at him for not getting back to her. For making her trek all the way into his neck of the woods.
"Oh my God," Hannah said, rolling her eyes, exasperated, "it wasn't your fault. If this was anyone's fault, it was mine..."
"Hannah..." Elliott broke in, his tone rational, firm.
"Not in a 'I slept with my boss so I deserved to be stalked by a crazy bitch who was in love with him' kind of way," Hannah shot back. "I mean... for not getting help earlier. I knew it was escalating and I just kept... pretending it wasn't that bad." She reached out and touched Xander's arm and his eyes went to her wrists again. "This was on me, not you. So stop punishing yourself, you idiot," she said, letting her hand drop. "And you're taking the damn money," she added for good measure.
Ellie watched Hannah with a sense of awe and envy. The girl had just gotten out of the hospital a few days ago and she was already back to being some kind of force of nature. She was strong, sure of herself, unashamed of her scars. Ellie looked down at her wrists, covered in hair bands. She was always worried someone would get the wrong impression.
Of course, Hannah hadn't been tortured for years by someone who was supposed to love her. Maybe it was easier to move on when your tormentor was just some random whack job, when they were safely locked away behind bars, when you had someone by your side who held you through the nightmares, who kissed away the fears.
God, what was wrong with her?
"Fine," Xander sighed, his lips quirking up. "I'll take the money. I'll buy a new stun gun and name it after you." He winked.
He hadn't even winked at her, and she felt a rush of desire flood her system, making her skin feel tingly and her heart beat a little faster. She should have lied to another private investigator. One less unnervingly sexy, preferably an old, fat guy. Or a surly, loud-mouthed woman. That would have been the better choice. Now she was stuck in close quarters with someone she was having slightly inappropriate thoughts about. Okay... really inappropriate thoughts about. He looked just as good in a long sleeved shirt as he did without one. Well... maybe not as good. But he was yummy to...
"Ellie," Xander broke into her thoughts. Her head snapped up, her cheeks heating and her eyes looking guilty. Had she been staring at him? She was pretty sure she had been staring. And from the strange look on his face, he had called her name more than once.
"What? Sorry..." she said, her face feeling like it was on fire.
Xander shook his head. She was acting really strange. And her face was red as a beet. "I said I am going to go show Elliott and Hannah a building in the neighborhood," at her blank look, he pressed on, "for the low income housing complex he is building..." he added, wondering how long she had been zoned out. What was making her look so embarrassed? "Do you want to come?"
"No," she said too quickly. "No thanks... I need to..." Take a cold shower, a really, really cold shower, "straighten up the kitchen," she finished, knowing he knew she was lying and not caring.
He sent her a weird smile, leading the Hannah and Elliott toward the door. "Okay," he said, reaching out and touching her arm. "Lock the door," he said and was gone.
Yup, Ellie nodded, sliding the lock, a really cold shower.