He shifted his legs, never moving me from the comfort of his lap, his strong hands pulled my head towards him, stroking my hair from my face.
My survival instinct told me to move, told me to run, but I couldn’t. The loud thump of his heartbeat soothed me and mine, and, just for a moment, the pain disappeared.
“Shh, shh. You’re okay, bird.” He said, his voice smothered me, coated me like a thick, knitted blanket.
I had only just realized that my fingers gripped his white shirt; the material was straining. My eyes fluttered shut, and I took this moment to catch my breath, my lungs still screaming for more oxygen.
It was a bizarre moment. In all my years at Purgatory, and during all the times Marnie and Edith stitched me up, glued me back together, never had I felt such a peace as I did in this strangers’ arms.
Who was this man? What power did he possess to calm me so? Oh, my. His lips. The lips I had felt on mine were his. The thought smacked into me, startling my nerves and sending my heart into an erratic state of neediness.
Cradled in his arms, I could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, the smoke from his cigarette, and it was such a heady aroma. And those eyes.
My hands slipped down his chest, skirting over his pecs, and I flinched, pulling away. “I’m so sorry,” I said through each sob.
Realization of my seeking comfort from someone other than my husband hit me, smacked me, and scratched at my open wounds. Pushing him away, I scrambled from his lap, my legs still refused to work, leaving me just a pile of limbs beside him. The tears came, the pain burned, my lungs hollered.
“Hey, hey. Come here, Ella. Jesus, woman. You’re in shock.” His voice said, calm, smooth, deep, rich. But I was hysterical now. My palms pressed against the floor, as did my knees, and I choked, bringing up yet more water. Not much, but enough to scare me. “Ella-”
“Mrs. Chrobak,” I choked.
I could feel the roll of his eyes. “Mrs. Chrobak, let me help you, for fuck’s sake. Your wounds need cleaning. Not to mention you’re frozen to the fucking bone.” His hand gripped my elbow, a thumb rubbed along the goosebumps covering me.
Shuddering from head to toe, I allowed him to help me stand, trying with all I was to ignore how his touch made me feel, even though I was exhausted.
Once upright, I dared to look at my savior, quickly looking back down at the floor. His face was too much for me and my vulnerable state. It was as though his scorching gaze controlled me, and I wasn’t sure what that meant.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I went to reply, but as I opened my mouth to speak, a male’s voice from behind us interrupted.
“Well, Murdoch,” it smiled. “You don’t waste no time, do you?”
My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor.
Jax
That fucking voice would haunt me. The smug, arrogant tones of this jacked-up prick had me raising my lip, turning on my heels, and keeping Ella behind me. I didn’t trust this fucker, not one goddamned bit.
The grin told me how pleased he was with himself for ‘outing’ us. His finger resting on the trigger of his gun told me nothing; I doubted he even knew how to use it, the man was far too pretty to risk getting his hands bloody.
Brown eyes lowered, his head cocked to steal a glimpse of Ella, crying, curled up on the floor.
“You know, I’d heard all the stories about you, but I always thought they were bullshit, man. No-one can attract pussy the way they said you could.” He stepped forward, emerging from the darkness, and clicked his tongue. “Huh,” he said, looking down at Ella, “Seems they were right, Elle.”
She mewled, hands gripping the backs of my calves, much to Marco’s fucking horror.
“Hey, why don’t you do us a favor, and back the fuck off, alright? She’s been through enough tonight; after saving her damn life, I was helping her inside the fucking house.”
Marco laughed, changing the click of his tongue for a condescending tut. “Oh, Jaxon, there’s a pecking line here, man. I think it’s best you learn it and quick.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I said, mocking the fucker. “Vlad’s at the top, and you peck his fucking ass clean, am I right?” Granted, I was pushing my luck, but the butt of the gun smacking me square in the face had still taken me by surprise.
My nose felt as though it exploded; blood seeped through my fingers, and the shock of my spine hitting the floor had me groaning.
Ella screamed, scrambling to her feet. “Please, enough!” She raised a shaking hand before a flushed, pleased-with-himself Marco. “It’s true, Marco.” I watched as her little body took big, gulping breaths. “I passed out, fell into the water. I’d have died if it weren’t for Mr Murdoch finding me.”
Marco wasn’t listening, though. Far too enraged at myself to listen to Ella’s words. He pushed passed her, and his eyes darkened as he hovered over me. “I can see why Amy left, having to put up with you and that other fucking prick," he sneered.
I didn’t even think about it. Him mentioning her fucking name was all it took, was all the fuel my fire needed.
My body left the floor, anger surging me forwards, and I raised my fist, striking his smug fucking grin right off his face. My knuckled throbbed, but I threw another one, watching as he stumbled, and then fell to his ass, hand covering his soon-to-be bruised jaw.
“Don’t you fucking say her name, you got that?” I yelled.
Ella’s screams continued behind me.
Marco rubbed his jaw, a smile graced his fat lip. “Temper, temper,” he provoked, before spitting blood on to the ground. “That will get you in trouble around here, Murdoch.”
Ignoring him, turning my back on him, I walked towards Ella, who was now on her feet and looking petrified. “Ella-”
“No!” She screamed, slamming her eyes shut and stopping me from approaching her.
“Ella?” I asked, lowering my voice to almost a whisper.
She shook her head, wet hair unmoving around her cheeks. “I just want to go to bed now,” she said, chest continuing to heave.
“Okay, but we need to clean those wounds, sweetheart. They’ll get infected.” I said.
A body barged passed me, jolting my arm, and Marco stalked towards Ella, hand outstretched ready to grab her. “I’ve got it, Murdoch. You’ve done enough for one night.”
Ella’s blue eyes widened, her mouth agape as Marco took hold of her.
“Ella?” I asked.
I saw the tip of his fingers turn white, and I gritted my teeth.
As if she wasn't hurt enough.
“It’s fine, Mr. Murdoch.” I saw her throat move as she swallowed down the lie. “Thank you for all your help.”
I seethed as he marched Ella away, back into The Mansion.
Her footfalls were still shaky, unstable, and my blood came to a boil when she turned her head, oh so carefully, and gave me the saddest fucking smile.
She was terrified of him.
Ella.
The silence between us was a fierce weapon, the farther through The Mansion, and the farther away from the bedroom Marco dragged me, the stronger this weapon grew.
For some reason, he wasn't taking me back to my room.
We'd diverted away from the stairs, his fingers digging into my flesh, and made headway towards the kitchen.