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

move in with Jetta and me, or with Luc. Your choice.”

I blinked. “Um, neither?”

“You’re the one who emphasised the danger. You need protection. I can’t guarantee your apartment. Luc and I have gated, high-fenced properties. We’ve got the best security systems. We can have eyes on the property 24/7. Further, both properties have their own generators. They try to fuck with us, they’re going to find it difficult. Those are your choices.”

I hesitated, feeling Luc approach from behind. “I don’t want to put you and Jetta out.”

“Good. It’s settled.” Luc clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’re staying with me.”

“I didn’t–”

“Get her stuff this afternoon, take one of the company trucks if necessary. I want her out today.” With that Pax turned his back on me, moving to where Brean and Kel were huddled, discussing their options in Western Australia.

I looked over at Luc. “I’m not moving in.”

“I’m not having this argument.” He shook his head. “This is happening, Em. Either accept that we’re now part of it, or we’ll drag you along for the ride.” He dropped his hand and turned on his heel, heading for the door.

I sunk into a nearby chair, nervously tapping the marker against my leg. I watched as the men and women around me drew lines, discussed links, and did what they did best − look for solutions.

With a tired sigh, I pushed up from the chair and turned to the whiteboard. I pulled the lid off with my teeth and began to write.

Father - John Gwynn - Deacon

Mother - Helen Gwynn, nee Pye - Whereabouts unknown

And so it went. Line after line I drew my family tree. Abel, my eldest brother. Cain my second. Moses my third. Me. Esther, Charity, Mary and Beth, my younger sisters.

My father’s second wife. My half-siblings.

My husband. His brother, the Prophet Edward.

Their wives.

Their children.

The elders of the church.

Their families.

And so on and so on and so on. All of it, line after line, as much information as I could remember in the ten years it had been since I’d escaped.

A hand touched the small of my back. “Em?”

I jumped, shying away, turning. “What?” I blinked at Luc, realising we were alone.

“Where is everyone?”

He frowned. “Working upstairs. They need to clear their cases to make this their priority.”

“Right.” I nodded, lifting a shaky hand to my hair. “Of course.” I tucked a strand behind my ear, catching Luc’s eye.

“What?”

He hesitated, then shook his head, taking a step back and moving to face the whiteboard. I looked at my progress.

It was horrifying. Details I’d suppressed for years filled on the board. Dates, times, places, my aliases.

He whistled. “If nothing else, we know you’ve got a good memory.”

We both stood silent for a long moment, my eyes reading over the family trees, trying to remember if I’d missed anything.

“What was your real name?”

“Hmm?” I looked over at Luc. He pointed to where I’d written Emmie Franklin into the hierarchy. “You need to put your name in.”

“Uh. No.”

“Uh. Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Luc–”

“Emmie.”

I glared at him. “I said no.”

His hands went to cross over his chest, legs hip width apart. I knew that pose. It was his I’m-a-stubborn-jackarse pose. “I said yes, Em. This is need-to-know time.”

I knew that. I did. I just didn’t want it to be that time.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe today. Maybe now.”

I sighed. “Please…” I kept my voice soft, pleading.

“We have to do this.”

I pulled a face, huffing softly. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll do it.” My hand shook as I lifted the marker to the board. I added a slash at the end of Emmie Franklin and began to write. I dropped my hand, stepping back.

We were both silent for a long moment.

“Abishag? Am I saying that right? A-bi-shag?”

I nodded.

“I… Is it a Bible thing?

I nodded again.

“Am I meant to know it?”

I quoted from memory. “When King David was very old, he could not keep warm even when they put covers over him. So his attendants said to him, ‘Let us look for a young virgin to service the king and take care of him. She can lie beside him so that our lord the king may keep warm.’ Then they searched through Israel for a beautiful young woman and found Abishag, a Shunammite, and brought her to the king. The woman was very beautiful; she took care of the king and waited on him, but the king had no sexual relations with her. 1 Kings 1-4.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “David used to say I was his Abishag. I would keep him warm in his old age. He used the quote at the wedding. In the weeks before, he’d whisper that, unlike the story, I would not remain a virgin.”

Luc’s hands turned me, one pulling me into him, wrapping around my back. The other lifted to my face, wiping away tears I hadn’t realised were falling.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered the words, my voice unsteady. “I don’t mean to be a wuss.”

“You’re fine.” He offered a comforting squeeze. “This is good. You should talk this out.”

I laugh-sobbed. “No, I really think I shouldn’t.”

“Have you ever told anyone?”

I shook my head. “Not till now.”

He pulled me in, crushing me against his chest.

“Em…” He trailed off.

“I’m okay, Luc.”

“You’re not. But we’ll get you there.”

I pushed against his chest, forcing him to move back and let go. “I won’t break.”

“But maybe I will.”

I stopped, looking at his face. Blank but for his furious eyes. I read in them rage.

Pure and utter rage.

I blinked.

“Why are you…?”

“You were raped, Emmie. You were fifteen. A child. Your first time should be with someone you lust-love. Someone you trust. Someone who makes it awkward, but you both enjoy it anyway. Hell, it may be in the back of a car during a drive-in, or while your parents are at work, or maybe it’s after you get married. Maybe you’re seventeen, or twenty-three, or maybe it’s when you’re forty. Maybe it’s none of them. Who knows? But it should be your choice. Yours. No one had the right to take that from you.”

“You’re