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

"Give up what?" Pete asked, scuffing his way into the kitchen.

"My waffle." Eli forked the whole thing into his mouth at once, making his son laugh. It was cold now, and sticky, but that didn't matter. Pete's laughter did. He even got a smile out of Steve. Eli got up to put Pete's breakfast on the table.

"Where's Marilyn?" Pete yawned as he started eating.

"Asleep." Eli picked up the trash bag and held it out to Steve. "You got time to put this back before we have to get you guys to school."

"Yeah. Thanks." The boy took it and slouched toward the stairs in the foyer. At the doorway, he looked back over his shoulder. "I won't give up."

"Good." Eli nodded, taking it as a promise. Steve was learning about promises, too.

"Give up what?" Pete said. "Stevie already ate his waffle."

"He sure can't give it up then, can he? Eat." Eli pointed at the plate and Pete took a bite.

Eli headed up then to find his shoes and a shirt to wear over his T-shirt. It still got cold in the garage mornings. He crept back in the bedroom, doing his best to be quiet. He glanced at the bed and was shocked motionless.

Marilyn lay sprawled on her back, the sheet down to her waist, arms thrown wide. Her fair skin was marked with raw, red abrasions and mottled blue-purple bruises. The marks Flash had made were healed. These were new. Had he done that?

He rubbed a hand along his jaw, feeling three days' worth of beard. Her skin had always been sensitive to that. The bruises bothered him more. God, couldn't he even make love to her without hurting her?

Maybe Flash wasn't his fault, but this was. He could pick out the marks of his fingers on her arm, five separate, distinct little bruises. Even if there weren't some hideous blackness inside him like she claimed, he still wasn't good for her. He hurt her when he touched her. How could he stay?

Eli shoved his feet into his boots and tied the laces. He snatched a flannel shirt out of the closet and escaped the bedroom. He couldn't think about it.

Downstairs, Steve was prodding Pete into loading his homework in his pack. Eli grabbed up the car keys and his coat. "If you're coming, come on."

Maybe after he got the boys to school, he could come back, figure things out.

The silence thundering in her ears woke Marilyn. That and the cold draft blowing down her back as she curled up in a ball. She'd thrown off the covers, and she wasn't wearing a nightgown. Or anything else.

That reminded her why she wasn't wearing anything. She pulled the covers up to her neck with a self-satisfied smile. There certainly were advantages to having such a young lover. Marilyn snuggled down into the quilt, remembering.

She hoped she had convinced Eli to let go of the guilt riding him. Surely he wouldn't have made love to her like that--her face burned as she recalled just where he had made love to her last night. On the sofa. In the living room. And her stark, staring naked. Where the boys could have come down and seen them. Thank goodness they hadn't.

But it had been so wonderful. Eli had whispered things to her the whole time, sweet nothings. She hadn't understood half of them, but the ones she did understand curled her toes. What woman didn't adore hearing a man tell her things like, "You are so beautiful," or "Amazing," or even "I love you."

He didn't mean any of them, of course, but they were still sweet. They made her feel beautiful. Amazing. Loved. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they were true?

Twenty-Five

***

No. Marilyn pulled the covers up over her head to hide from the thought. No good came from wishing for things that weren't possible. She would just break her heart, falling in love with someone who didn't love her back. When he left, she would...be absolutely devastated because she was already madly, desperately in love with her young lover.

Dear God, when did this happen? How? Well, how was obvious. Eli was perfect. He was young and handsome, a passionate lover, a loyal friend. He was a fabulous father. He never complained. He made her laugh. He even picked up his dirty clothes and put them in the hamper. How could she possibly not love him?

How could he possibly love her?

With a groan, Marilyn forced herself to throw back the covers and get out of bed. She was supposed to go down to the shop today and get all the bills sent out, but maybe she could put it off till tomorrow. She didn't think she could face Eli today. Not now that she knew the truth. How did she manage to delude herself for so long?

Because she never wanted to face facts. She'd rather hide in the sand and pretend everything was just fine. Oh, God, she was just like her mother.

"Marilyn?" Eli's voice came floating upstairs.

In a flash, she dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door. Then she locked it. She absolutely couldn't face him now, without any defenses. Or clothes.

He must have come back after taking the boys to school. He usually did that when he took them, so she could have the car.

"Marilyn?" He rapped on the bathroom door and startled her into jumping and squeaking. "You in there?" He rattled the handle. "Can I come in?"

"Um--" Say something, you dummy. But she couldn't think what to say. She was an idiot. She loved him.

"Is everything okay, babe? Why is the door locked?"

"Um--" Talk. Now. "I'm naked."

"I know."

She could hear the smile in his voice and bit down hard on her thumb. Oh God, she was so in love with him.

"Come on, babe. Let me in. Just to talk. That's all."

She had to make him leave. Get some time, some space to think, decide what to do.

He didn't say anything for such