Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

my side, back, and face while he fidgeted, shifting about. Eventually his hands slowed and his breathing evened out. I lay like that, Luc wrapped tight around me, my fingers gently combing his hair, keeping watch as he slept.

This was what friends did. Right?

You keep telling yourself that.

Chapter Eighteen

Emmie

I was bored. Bored out of my brain.

The respite facility had a recreation centre. The centre was a gathering place for those who stayed here. The room consisted of faded vinyl floors, baby-blue walls, a TV, and some old couches. Scattered here and there were a few tables and chairs for coffee or tea, reading or playing board games.

I’d waged war against Zac, a sassy fourteen-year-old stuck here while undergoing treatment for leukemia. I don’t want to brag, but I was whooping his arse in chess. Granted, his eyes kept wandering to fifteen-year-old Sonya. I’d noticed her eyes wandering his way occasionally.

A text lit up my phone.

Luc: What you doing?

Me: Beating children…

Luc: Are you stealing their candy too?

Me: Only when the nurses aren’t around

Me: Truthfully? I’m bored. Tell me something fun

Luc: You want me to break you out?

Me: Can’t, Physio at 7am. Need to be in bed early

Luc: I’ll be there in 30

Me: ??

Me: Luc?

Me: Hello?

All hope of a decent game of chess was lost as Zac gave into the allure of the pretty Sonya, and I continued to glance at my phone awaiting a reply.

A commotion at the door to the rec centre interrupted my pack up. Luc walked in, carrying a guitar and small amp. He winked at me, before heading to the stage area. Normally reserved for school choirs or the yearly Christmas play, today it was apparently playing host to Luc’s band.

King, Dom, and Mark, Luc’s band mates, followed, waving and calling greetings. Jetta strolled in, hand in hand with Paxton ten minutes later. She threw a smile my way, heading for the stage.

Paxton claimed the seat beside me. The residents watched, murmuring. I saw the resident gossip head for the doors. We’d be joined by the rest of the patients soon enough.

“What is even happening right now?” I asked, gesturing to the stage.

Pax smirked. “I’d say he’s trying to impress you.”

I opened my mouth to respond only to be interrupted by Luc.

“Yo, yo, yo.” His voice pitched and he nodded after a moment at the sound level. His head came up, his eyes twinkled and he looked right at me.

“We’re Behind Utopia, and I hope you don’t mind that we’ve hijacked your Sunday afternoon.”

The residents laughed.

“Take your shirt off!” This came from Shirley, who punctuated her excitement with a clap of her hands. The woman had to be at least ninety and still rocked it.

#GrandmaGoals

“Maybe later.” Luc winked at her, then turned back to the rest of the gathering. “Tonight, we also have a special guest, Ms Jetta Oliver.” He nodded to Jetta who stood beside him, microphone in hand. She grinned shyly at the squeals that followed Luc’s introduction.

“I thought the concert was her first and final with the tour now cancelled?” I asked, turning to Pax.

“Decided to face her fear. She’s too good for the shadows. Fucking proud of her.” Pax’s eyes remained firmly on his woman.

I hid my smile.

“We’re here to entertain and amaze you − we hope. So, without further ado…”

The band started and launched straight into a rousing rendition of Sam Hunt’s “House Party.”

The majority of the residents were unable to dance due to injury or sickness. Instead we clapped, stamped, and chair boogied. I think I fell a little in love with Luc for giving the residents a unique and unexpected way to break the monotony of illness.

The band crossed genres, launching into “Classic” by MKTO, “Dear Future Husband” by Meghan Trainor, then into “Timber” by Pitbull. Jetta killed it. She owned the stage, moving into the crowd, dancing with little old women, laughing at the old men, living it up with the teens.

Luc left the stage, coming to undulate over Shirley, who reciprocated by trying to feel his crotch. Pax and I both laughed until tears ran down our face.

The young kids loved it. They called out requests and filmed the band on their phones, most of them focussing in on Jetta.

They flowed through old classics, Luc rocking out, his growly voice sending pleasant shivers curling down my body as he belted out Stevie Wright’s, Evie, only he changed the lyric to ‘Emmie’.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the slight flutter in my stomach as he pointed at me, grinning.

Finally, after an hour of music and fun, people started flagging, and they wrapped it up with a rousing rendition of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.” Perfect.

Once the crowd dissipated, I pulled myself to standing, using the walking stick to cross to where they were packing up. Luc watched me slowly shuffle across the linoleum floor, his eyes on my legs.

“Well, that was some surprise.” I smiled, reaching him.

“We had practice anyway, just moved venue.”

“Thank you.” I reached out, touching his arm. “Seriously, thank you.”

“What are friends for?” He ruffled my hair before turning to finish packing.

Chapter Nineteen

Emmie

On my seventh week, Dr. CJ finally allowed me to go home. It took me thirty minutes to walk up to my apartment. Luc had time to go up, open my door, dump my bags, put the kettle on, and walk back down to help me up.

He never complained as I huffed and puffed my way up, determined to do it myself.

When we finally walked through that door, I collapsed on the couch face down, loathed to move.

A mug of tea and a glass of water appeared on the coffee table. Luc’s arms snaked around my torso, and he gently shifted me up, positioning a pillow on my bad side.

As I settled, he moved to sit at the foot of my couch, scowling and shaking his head.

I glanced over as I reached for the meds and water. “What?”

“Don’t know if I should leave you. Maybe you should stay with me. At least