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Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She was thinking of whether to put down the window and invite him in, or scream and run in the direction of her house. She chose the first option; assuring herself it was because she didn’t want to get struck by lightning she opened the door.

“Um . . . Hi?” her voice sounded too high for her. Trystan nodded.

“Do you need help?” he asked. At first, Elie thought he was asking her if she was ok – mentally, she was about to give him the cut right there when she realized he was talking about her car. Elie wanted to smack her hand to her forehead for her stupidity, but then he’d really think she was crazy.

“Yes.” She answered, he nodded. He closed her door, motioned for her to pop the hood. Once he set it up, he bent down low, out of her vision, and started working on the engine. After a few minutes, he popped up, yelled for her to start the car. She put her key in the ignition and started it; it stuttered for a few minutes and then went smooth. He put her hood back down and shook  his wet hair.

Elie thought he looked like a fallen angel. A dark one.

She was about to thank him when she realized he already left. She sat up straighter and looked around. Trystan Levi was gone. After five minutes, she started moving.

When she got home, there was a note from her aunt.

 

Hey, sweets!

Sorry I wasn’t there to see you, but I’m still working, I’m going to be in D.C for two days, I made food for the rest of the week, and money if it runs out. I’ll call you tomorrow night to check up on you.

Call my hotel number, it’s faxed to you!

Loves,

Beatrice

 

Arelie sighed. She put her keys down and texted Victoria to make sure she got home safe. After texting her goodnight, she went up stairs to take a shower. She was in there for maybe about an hour, soaking her skin in the hot water and contemplating Trystan.

Yes, the guy was hot. Ok, maybe she was interested in him. But what he was she had no clue, struggling to understand the situation at hand but not getting far enough to realize Trystan was a gang member, one of Florida’s deadliest – according to rumor. Elie sighed again.

She pulled on a big t-shirt over her towel-covered body and grabbed a pair of panties. After Elie had come to live with her Aunt, Beatrice thought it would be nice if Elie had a wider wardrobe to pick from, and because Bea had the money she decided that she could cure one part of Elie’s life, if not another. Elie had her one lamp on, drying her hair with a towel, another lightning flash, another roll of thunder.

Suddenly a noise came from downstairs. Elie paused with drying her hair. The sound came again – padding footsteps. Elie’s breathing hitched. She looked around for her phone and found it at her bed corner. Quietly she came to her bedside; she prayed a thanksgiving to the Lord that she remembered to charge her dead phone.

She grabbed her phone and held it with shaking hands.

The silent footsteps climbed the stairs, Elie held her breath. She quickly started to dial 911 when she heard doors opening. The sound was coming closer. Elie quickly raced through her mind, trying to think of something that would get the intruders attention away from her.

Swiftly and quietly she turned on her bathroom lights and put on the sink; trying to be aware of the approaching intruder. The water was quiet but loud enough to hear. She closed the bathroom door and nearly ran to the opposite side of her room.

Suddenly, she heard the room next to hers being opened, the silent feet roaming the room and the doors being closed again. Then her room door was open, Elie held her breath for what felt like to be an eternity.

The intruder walked stealthily to her bathroom, pausing and hearing the radio she left on and the running water. She heard him silently opening the door and she ran like hell. Slamming her door shut, she flew downstairs, screaming with the roll of thunder as she heard the intruder following her, daring to look back she didn’t see anything, not daring to slow down she kept going and slammed right into a massive chest. Hands secured over her upper arms and she screamed.

Struggling wildly, she tried to budge the man, but he wouldn’t budge.

“For Christ’s sake! Calm down, open your eyes.” Distantly, as she struggled, Elie heard Trystan’s voice. Elie stopped; she looked up at Trystan, her heart stopping. Trystan saw the scared look on Elie’s face and knew, without a doubt, what she was thinking. “It wasn’t me.” He nearly bellowed. They were in the kitchen, near the sink.

“Y-y-you c-came into my h-house?” she struggle to calm her voice.

“Yes.” He answered. Elie moved a few feet back and hugged herself.

“W-why?” she asked calmly. But all that was a façade, she was dying – slowly, from fear.

“I saw someone come inside your house, on my way . . . home.” Trystan decided it was best to just make that last part a lie.

“Oh God. Someone’s in here-” a crash of glass sounded as Elie screamed, Trystan grabbed her and shoved her behind him. He turned to her; his eyes dark, his hair wet and ruffled.

“Don’t move.” He warned, telling her through his words that the danger may not be over. Elie nodded vigorously, not trusting her voice. Trystan left and Elie suddenly felt really cold. Trystan had come to her rescue again, Elie thought. What would I do without him? She thought with a shiver.

A hand fell on her shoulder and Elie jumped.

“It’s me. The guy left, he broke a mirror, I think, and left through the back door. I would’ve chased him but I didn’t want to leave you here alone.” Trystan blew a frustrated sigh. He looked down at her, “Arelie?”

She jumped again and looked up at him. He pulled her up and watched her with a hard expression.

“Not really the way I hoped your first visit to my house would be.” She offered up a helpless, faint smile. Trystan still watched her.

He saw the shaking of her hands, heard her breathe in brokenly, and caught her when she collapsed against him and burst into tears. He held her there for a long time. His arms wrapped around her waist as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Soon enough, Elie’s tears still flowing she searched for comfort in Trystan’s arms. Her arms had wound around his neck, her face pressed up against his shoulder, her face towards his neck. Trystan braced against the counter of the sink. One large muscular arm at Elie waist, another at her back; was steadying her, supporting her, comforting her.

Elie looked up at Trystan and he stared down at her, his scar deepening and his green eyes darkening as they met her brown ones. His face came down to hers, their eye contact never breaking, as his lips descended down to hers.

The kiss was powerful, electrical. They both couldn’t seem to get enough. Elie pulled Trystan’s head down, tugging at his smooth dark hair, begging for more. Trystan’s hand at Elie’s waist tightened as he drew her closer. They back up into the corner of the kitchen, Trystan pressing Elie against wall as he kissed her with such passion that she forgot her name.

Elie found out how dominant and male Trystan was. All male. His powerful, bulging muscles were so big she was sure he could crush her with one flick of his wrist. But the gentle way he was handling her made her moan with such yearning she could’ve died.

Trystan was sure he’d died and gone to heaven, even though his seat was reserved in the deepest Hell. Elie was warm, complying and soft. Her red curls were clouds, he was sure of it. They had the aroma of cinnamon, her skin was different. She had cocoa butter softness applied to her pale skin, making her soft and shining. He heard her moan through his haze of desire, he brought her closer, kissing her deeper.

And then the cops came.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

February 23

“Why the hell didn’t you call me? Were cops there?” Victoria nearly yelled, when she heard what happened, Arelie sighed, trying not to catch any attention.

“Yes, calm down, Victoria. It ended up that the neighbor heard the screams and called 911. By the time they got there though, the intruder had already left.”

“How did he get in?” Tori asked.

“Front door. It so happens that I forgot to lock the front door.” Arelie wanted to hit herself when she found out the cause of all this.

Of course, Arelie didn’t tell Tori that Trystan had been there, had rescued her again, and comforted her. She couldn’t, Tori would start her yelling all over again! After the cops came, Trystan had pulled away from her, he said a few curses, and then looked at her.

She didn’t realize then, what a sight she was, because the corner of Trystan’s mouth twisted up in a half smile. He looked away, heard the cops slam their car door and start up the steps. He asked her if she was alright, if she was going to be fine. After she assured him she was; he left.

He probably vanished out of thin air, because he was so quick, Arelie didn’t see him. The cops knocked on her door, then. She had run to the front door, opened it widely and breathed a sigh of relief. There were two cop cars. The second two cops checked the backyard of the house, securing all the doors and windows. The backdoor had been unlocked.

After a few questions, the cops left. They had forced her to call her aunt. Arelie took about twenty minutes explaining things to her aunt and that she was fine, that Bea didn’t have to come home early. The cops had assured her that they’d have a nightly visit before she went to bed. They also helped her figure out the security system and updated it. Now, if someone even tried to break-in the alarm would go off and if she didn’t take it off, they’d send the police to check up on her.

The next day and Friday Arelie didn’t get a visit from Trystan. She saw him at school, but he never approached her. She found it

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