Knight In Black Leather by Gail Dayton (people reading books .txt) 📗

"They care about me." She knew they did. They just didn't understand.

"Then they should act like it."

"And you're the judge of whether they're acting like it?"

He twisted in the seat, trying to turn toward her, but was blocked by his oversized leg cast. "No, you are. It shows when you hurt, Marilyn."

She stopped at the sign at the bottom of the hill and Eli reached over to touch the twin lines rising from between her eyes onto her forehead. "Here," he said. "It shows here. And when I see it, I'm going to stop it."

"How?"

"However I have to. Even if I have to throw you over my lap and wheel you away."

Her laugh snuck up the back way and escaped. Crazy as he made her, Eli could always make her laugh too. "I thought the hero was supposed to ride a white horse," she said.

His smile faded. "I'm no hero. You'll have to make do with a wheelchair and a Harley."

Why was he so sensitive to the "hero" word, even in jokes? She'd noticed it before and didn't understand. "A Harley's just fine with me," she said, hoping to get his smile back.

"Good." His eyes smiled, if not his mouth. "It's all I got to offer."

He seemed to truly believe it, that he had nothing in himself worth offering to anyone. And yet, he'd stood up for her against her family. The people who were supposed to love her, no matter what. The hard edge in his voice when he'd said he wouldn't let anything hurt her still sent chills down her spine. He meant every word of it. He would look after her.

No one had looked after her in so long. Four years? More? The desperate isolation had eventually faded, but it left her empty. She didn't feel empty now. She felt warm. Content. Cared for. What would she do when he moved on?

What was left of the evening passed quietly. Eli sat beside Marilyn on the blue plaid sofa watching her more than the television she turned on. Did she seem quieter than usual, or was that just his imagination? Was she really okay?

When it came time, Eli went into the bathroom to change from his party clothes into his old shorts. As usual, the bed was folded out and waiting for him when he left the bathroom. He accepted Marilyn's handto move from the wheelchair--all the help he needed these days--then lay back, tucked his good hand under his head and stared at the ceiling to wait for the end of Marilyn's turn in the bathroom.

When she came out, she puttered around, filling the coffee pot for morning, moving cups from the sink to the dishwasher, checking the lock on the door. Homey stuff. Stuff to delay the moment she got into bed beside him.

He kind of liked the idea that it still made her uncomfortable, sleeping next to him, even after almost four weeks. It meant she was aware of him as a man. At least he hoped that's what it meant. It also meant he still got to say "Come to bed, Marilyn."

"I'm coming."

She turned off the lamp on the sofa table before taking off the thick blue velour robe he'd come to hate. She slipped under the covers and took the hand he stretched toward her and finally, it was here. His favorite time of the day. When they would lie side by side in the same bed, holding hands, and just talk.

Tonight, he rolled to his side, onto his leg cast--a recent accomplishment--so that he faced her. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. "So, really," he said, knowing she would tell him now, in the dark. "How are you? Okay?"

She turned toward him, their faces now separated only by the breadth of their clasped hands. "I'm fine." She sighed.

Then she sighed again, a long, drawn-out, quavery kind of sigh, and Eli's gut shivered. That was not a good sound.

"It's just--you're right, you know. They're my family, so it hurts more that they don't understand. That they don't want to bother, they don't even want to try to understand. I--God, I feel so alone." The slight tremble in her voice as she started to speak grew with each word until with the last, she was weeping aloud.

Nine

***

"Oh, hey--" Eli moved his uppermost arm, thinking to put it around her, but he'd brain her with the cast on that one. So he tugged his lower hand free and slipped it under her head, around her shoulders, and pulled her close. "You're not alone, okay? I know it's not much, but I'm here."

Marilyn tucked her head into his shoulder and cried on it. "You're not staying."

"Sure I am. Long as you want me, I'll stay. Promise."

It was an easy one to make. She wouldn't want him around that long, just till she got her feet under her. Till her family got their heads straight. Joey already did. The others would come around soon enough. Probably sooner if Eli was out of the picture, but that was just too bad.

She cried harder. Her sobs scared the shit out of him. He didn't know how to make her stop.

"Hey." He tightened his arm around her, let his plaster-free fingers rest on her arm. "What did I say wrong? I didn't want to make you cry more."

She shook her head, sobbing like her heart was breaking. Her hand slid up across his chest, under the broken arm and around to his back. Now she held him as tight as he held her.

Eli kissed the top of her head. He couldn't help it. He wanted to kiss her tears away, but that would probably make her cry harder. "Shh," he breathed, rocking her slightly in his arms. "Sh, sh. It's all right. It's gonna be all right."

"Oh, God, Eli," she said, voice cracking. "Hold me."

"Sure." Carefully he added his cast to the mix, placing it behind her. He pressed his face to her