She heard Victor walk in but she kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep. The bed dipped next to her and his hand push the hair from her eyes, but she remained motionless.
“I have some food for you downstairs. Come and eat.”
She remained still.
“I know you’re not sleeping, Elsa. Come downstairs and let’s talk.”
Her eyes flew open and she glared at him. What the hell was there to talk about? He stood and tugged her hand, but she resisted. When she did, he reached down and brought her up into his arms and carried her down the stairs. She hid her face in his neck, not wanting to look into his beautifully deceiving and pitiless eyes. His smell was so intoxicating and his warm, strong body was so firm... Why hadn’t he come to that jail cell and taken her into his arms then?
He seated her at the table and pushed a plate of warm food in front of her. She didn’t want to give in but she was so hungry. Picking up her flatware, she brought a forkful of potatoes to her mouth. When she finally had the nerve to look up, Victor was watching her keenly and waiting for her response. She could only guess that he was expecting her to lash out like she had before, but she just didn’t have it in her.
She shot him a withering glance. “How could you leave me there knowing what I’ve been through?”
Silence.
“That was harsh, Victor.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “You were late.”
Elsa sighed and shook her head in disgust with his coldness. “You should know that the reason I was late was because I was in a car accident,” she whispered. His eyes squinted critically. “You don’t believe me? Go outside and look at my rear bumper,” she answered before he spoke.
Victor’s mercurial, green eyes sharpened as he sat forward. His mouth parted and a pained sigh fluttered past his lips. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he clenched his teeth.
“Would the reason have mattered?”
Her question went unanswered and he sat back and sunk into the chair. There was an almost imperceptible note of remorse on his face as he reached a hand out to her.
“Now you know I’m invested, Mr. Black, and I’m not going anywhere.”
20: Clash
While Victor lay next to Elsa with his chest to her back, the names of his Chapters kept slipping through his thoughts, and the undeniable and dreadful facts of everything he had done to them all in the name of helping them. His recent ceaseless inward questions were maddening and eating away at the protective outer shell he had carefully created over the years. He thought by getting closer to knowing who the Cambridge Killer was, these thoughts would dissipate, but they only seemed to intensify.
Unwanted guilt weighed heavily on his heart for having allowed Elsa to go to jail. Of course he would take care of everything and have the charges dropped, but it wouldn’t take away the betrayal she was feeling. He was simply trying to make her see the danger in falling for him. Hell, he never expected her to really go through with it. He had never met anyone so fucking resilient to his methods. He was convinced that his punishment was exactly what she needed to see that he was a hopeless case, but what he hadn’t anticipated was the look of desolation on her face or the admission that there was a legitimate reason for her having been late.
When he observed her standing in front of the window, he found it admirable to watch her struggle. It was a redeeming quality for her to continue fighting against her own will and commonsense to accept his sentence even while knowing triumph was all but a fleeting memory. Her stubbornness and admission that she was still invested in the game was a shocking testimony of the depths of her loyalty for him and he began to wonder just what outcome she expected between the two of them. As he lay in the dark room pondering what it was she saw him, he was simultaneously lost and found in her as his breathing slowly matched hers.
Elsa wasn’t sleeping but wasn’t speaking either. She was waiting for something, but he had no idea what. She was hurt and angry, and could he blame her? She had proven herself worthy of his time and effort, but was he worthy of her? Fuck, no, he wasn’t. What did she think she was accomplishing by staying ‘invested’? It was infuriating that he couldn’t figure her out. The others were so easily readable. God damn her and her light.
Slowly she rose from the bed and began dressing.
Feeling rebuffed, Victor sat up on the edge of bed. “I haven’t dismissed you.”
“It’s after midnight. It’s Monday. I have to work,” she stated without emotion as she seated herself on the edge of the bed to put her shoes on.
Holding onto her shoulders, he turned her body toward him so he could see her eyes. Damn if they weren’t the most stunning ones to ever look back him… Sadness flickered in her chestnut irises and only a hint of the light she spoke about.
“Your light is diminishing,” he said quietly, knowing full well he was the reason why.
A momentary look of discomfort crossed her face before she stood again and pulled her coat on. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt, Victor, but nothing you ever do is going to change who I am and no amount of malice you show me is going to douse my light.”
He sat stunned as she stared at him. How the hell did she know he had been hurt? Was he the one that was easily readable? He flashed back to his three-word confession: yes, I’ve loved. That statement in and of itself was enough to let onto his pain and he was pissed at himself for having said it. He fucking knew better than to do something so ignorant.
“What do you see when you look at me?” she asked as she seated herself next to him.
He said the first thing that came to his mind. “You’re beautiful.”
She shook her head. “I mean really look at me; deeper than my surface appearance. Am I unique?”
Her question left a burning imprint on him and he answered honestly while skimming his fingertips down her arm. “Absolutely.”
“Do you think I’m intelligent?” her eyes implored him.
“Without a doubt.” His hand moved to her back where he traced the vertebrae of her spine.
“Do you think I’m strong or weak?”
He offered a small smile and nodded his head. “Definitely strong.”
She regarded him with somber curiosity. “If I’m all those things, then what exactly are you trying to ‘help’ me be?”
With that one question, he ran out of excuses.
“I’m trying my best to please you, but I’m a direct reflection of you and your guidance, Victor. If you show me honesty, you’ll get honesty in return. If you show me kindness, then I’ll give you kindness and obedience. But if you show me nothing but heartlessness and cruelty, then what do you expect to get in return?”
A pain squeezed his chest. He had no answers for her.
As if tired of the silence, she turned and walked out without saying anything more, leaving him to sit in his lonely denial of what his life had become.
***
Elsa crawled into her bed with the overwhelming urge to break down, but she refused. She had cried enough. She forced herself to see the goodness in Victor even though it was a difficult thing to do.
She listed off his positive qualities in her mind: Sometimes kind. Occasionally gentle. Always brave. Then his negative: Constantly withdrawn. Habitually secretive. Repeatedly cruel. It was like a slap to the face when she listed them out because she knew which list was the most revealing.
She also knew what the smart thing to do was: run like hell.
Even so, she had gotten through to him. She could see it in his eyes when she asked what he wanted her to be. She was so close to breaking him down, she could feel it. She only hoped she could hold out and get through to him before she had a mental break down.