Chapter 22

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Chapter 22

Ella's POV:

One minute I'm reliving a horrible nightmare; the next, I'm flying up with widened eyes, my hand clasping my chest. Ragged breaths leave my pasty lips as I try to settle my heartbeat before it beats right out of my chest.

A sheen of sweat clings to my skin, making me a sticky mess. Tears prick my eyes falling helplessly down my cheeks. Can't I ever just get a freaking break?

"Ellie," The voice is breathless, but still the most mesmeric sound. It's the voice of the boy who keeps me sane, the boy I've missed so much.

Gazing up, it doesn't take long for me to spot Declan; we're in his bedroom. Our eyes connect, his grassy ones full of intensity as they stare into my blue ones. He stands up and then begins to walk towards me, his strides quick but fluent, not once taking his eyes off me.

"D-Declan," I rasp, in an unpleasant croak.

When he gets to me, he doesn't hesitate to pick me up gently with his strong arms and place me onto his lap. His arms don't leave my body; they hold me firmly with no intention of letting me go. I shift to my side on his lap, so I can place my arms around him too, and hold on for dear life, all the while my head rests on his chest above his beating heart.

"Shh, I'm here baby," He whispers.

I glance up to see his face; when I do, my heart breaks. His face is all bruised in different shades of purples and blues while his eyes are swollen. Little cuts speckle his face, still dry with blood; he has yet to clean them. What happened to him?

Bringing my hand up, my fingers trace the cuts lightly, causing him to wince, "Declan, y-you're hurt."

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

I shake my head and start crying all over again. "N-no your not, t-they hurt you." I stutter, squeezing him tighter. He shouldn't have those marks; who did that to him? How did he get me out?

He smiles softly, but still, my heartaches. "I'll be fine, Lil' one."

"Promise," I mumble.

He leans down and kisses my forehead, "I promise you."

We stay like this for a while, just holding onto each other, neither of us wanting to let go. Right now, I just want to hold the boy I love with all my heart and have him hold me back, to feel safe again because he is my safety.

His chin rests on my head, "What were you dreaming about?" He asks into my hair.

My body stills. It wasn't a dream, it was a recurring nightmare, and the worst part is, it's true. I can't tell him about it, what would he think of me? He would never see me the same. I am the reason my dad was dead; it was my fault.

Biting my lip, I say the only thing I can think of, "I don't really remember," I feel horrible for lying, but I can't lose him, not when he's all that I have.

"Ella, don't lie to me," He mumbles, which causes me to gaze up. His eyes look sad, hurt maybe?

Sitting up, my eyes fall to my lap, not being able to look at him. "I'm not; it was nothing."

Declan slides off from under me and stands up, leaving me cold without his warmth. He then begins to pace the floor. "I don't understand, Ellie." He speaks quietly. "I've told you things about me that I don't tell anyone, but when I want to know something about you, you shut down and lie to me."

Now I'm sure it's hurt clouding his eyes, but now it's also anger. He's mad at me. "I-I'm not lying." I defend weakly.

He stops for a moment and stares at me. "This is what I mean," He gestures between us, "I've been patiently waiting for you to tell me when you're ready," Then he stops, keeping his eyes on me, giving me a chance to tell him until he realizes I'm not going to.

"Damnit, Ella," He raises his voice, causing tears to swell in my eyes. Why do I have to be so weak? He's right, though. "I've been there for you, I fucking love you, but it hurts to know you don't trust me."

The dam breaks, and the tears fall. Every time he's saved me, he gave me space, giving me time to open up when I was ready. But I've been too scared to tell him, and now if I don't do something, I don't know how that will affect us.

He told me about his sister, who he keeps safe. He told me about his abusive father, and I've told him nothing. He's told me about his mother, that he doesn't speak to anyone else about. But what about his brother? Did he not tell me about him because he's some kind of psychopath?

"I-I do trust you more than anyone," I say, trying to buy more time.

He looks me straight in the eye with his piercing ones, "But not enough," He then starts to walk towards the door to leave.

But I stop him, "Wait."

He turns, "So you can lie to me again?" I flinch.

"Please, I...I just need a second." I plead in a mere whisper.

He sits down on the edge of the bed a little ways away, staring at me with attentive eyes. Taking a long deep breath, I let the words tumble off my tongue with quivering lips starting from the very beginning. First, I tell him about the day he found me crying in the park, how Julian asked me questions that brought up everything I didn't want to remember.

Glancing at him with nervous eyes, he nods, encouraging me to keep going, though the look on his face has visibly darkened. Biting my bottom lip to stop the quiver, I continue quietly telling him about my first bad dream with him, about a guy chasing me right into the road where a truck was driving ridiculously fast.

That truck was going to kill me. As my chest tightens, the subject changes to the days where I used to play soccer, the sport I fell in love with. The sobs that I'm trying so hard to keep in shake right out of me, making me look completely unstable. I'm so out of it; I don't even realize when warm arms wrap around me, pulling me right into Declan's hard chest.

That doesn't stop me, though. The words keep flowing like a freaking fountain telling him about how good of a game I was having, how I scored four goals, how my mom and dad were so proud. For a moment, I pause, knowing once the next words come out of my mouth, they'll be out in the open, and there will be no take-backs.

With my blood running cold as the second's pass, I tell him about the ball being kicked out of bounds, how the road was right next to the field, and lastly, how I didn't pay attention as I went to receive it, which in turn got my father killed. I killed him.

Each time I relive the story, a piece of my heart chips off, and now I cry and cry and cry, waiting for Declan to push me away, to look at me with disgust; this is how my anxiety started, this is why I don't get close to people, and this is why I will never play soccer again.

As the seconds' pass, Declan's arms do not leave; in fact, they hold me tighter, pulling me closer as I choke out ugly sobs.

"I'm so sorry," He whispers repeatedly close to my ear, "It's not your fault, Ellie, it's not," I just cling to him like he's the only thing keeping me alive. He doesn't run away, he doesn't say it's my fault, and he doesn't look at me with disgust.

He just comforts me, "I love you so fucking much," He murmurs, kissing my forehead, "I will never ever leave you."

"I can't lose you," I mumble through heaved breaths.

He gently grabs my chin, "That isn't even an option because I'm too selfish to ever let you go."

*

I've been at Declan's house all day, and he hasn't left my side. Sitting on the couch, Declan's head rests on my lap, letting me play with his chocolate curls. I ask why I'm here and not at my house; my mom and Thomas must be worried sick.

"I want you here with me," He says, his grassy eyes connecting with mine. "I know you're safe when I'm with you."

I smile, "You know, I'm safe at my house too."

He doesn't return the smile, though, "Julian's my dad."

My hand's freeze, my body going slack with shock. "W-what?" Did he just say Julian, the guy who's dating my mom, is his dad? Julian's the man who's abused Declan, the man who hurt him countless times, the man Declan hates?

He sits up, "I called your mom and told her I found you at the park; you got overwhelmed and forgot to tell her you were leaving," He pauses for a moment, "I told her that I brought you to my place and that you're fine. Thomas won't tell her the truth."

"Oh," I say stupidly.

That's a lot to take in all at once. Why didn't he tell my mom? Thomas knows? Is my mom safe; will Julian hurt her? My head spins with all this new information, legit twirls with dizziness.

Declan raises an eyebrow at my answer, probably confused. Maybe I should be mad or upset or hurt even, but all I can think is how perfect he is. My lips simper into a smile; he makes me feel so lucky. Then I realize he's waiting for my response.

"I love you," I blurt out. When I realize what I said, my cheeks burn in embarrassment. Why did I just say that? We're not even talking about that right now.

His perfectly aligned lips quirk up into the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. His sharp features steal my breath away; uhh he's so perfect. I have no other way to describe him; he is just outright gorgeous.

He chuckles, "I know," He then reaches up and runs his hand along my burning hot cheeks, "Beautiful."

Becoming impossibly hot, I turn away from him, so he can't see how he's affecting me. He laughs softly and mutters, "So adorable," He makes me so nervous but in a good tingly way. My heart goes mad when I'm around him, and my whole stomach becomes a zoo.

"W-what I..uhh meant was Julian acts so normal and I didn't umm expect him to be y-your dad." I stutter nervously. No wonder Julian gave me a bad vibe. He acts so—so I don't know, ordinary.

Declan eyes glaze, darkening, "He's deceiving," His voice comes out hard.

"He makes me uncomfortable," I say honestly; he's always seemed off. Then out of nowhere, I blurt, " I hate him, I hate him for what he did to you."

Declan grabs my hand and squeezes, "Me too."

We stayed quiet for a minute, that's when I recall the guy who took me. He said he was Declan's brother. Is it true? Declan hasn't mentioned him? Was he lying? "Is the guy who took me your brother?"

Declan grinds his white teeth; by the look, I can tell it's true. "His name is Hayes."

"Why did he take me? Why didn't you tell me about him?" I whisper, glancing down at my feet, a feeling of hurt washing over me. There must be a reason he's never mentioned him.

Letting go of my hand, his clench into white-knuckled fists. Anger filling his bloodstream. "Because of me, I didn't do what he wanted." He grits, trying to hold himself together. "He deals drugs for my father; Julian's a drug lord."

He keeps going, "I needed money, so I did a couple of his deals for him, but after, I cut him off, and he didn't like that," I reach over and push my fingers through his, making him release his fist and grab my hand, "He's seen me with you, and he knows that you're important to me."

I squeeze his hand, "Oh, Declan, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

His lovely green orbs meet mine with such intensity, "Tell you about my messed-up family, yeah, right." He mutters before continuing. "You look at me like I'm all you see." His other hand rises to my cheek. "You're blue eyes watch me; they see me not through me. You're the only one who looks at me like that; I didn't want that to change."

I pull him into a great big hug, "Nothing, not even any of that can change the way you make me feel," I whisper softly. "I love you so much that I c-can feel it i-in my blood, in every single part of my body."

Declan lips come falling down onto mine. His minty taste envelopes my mouth as he kisses me with a force that makes my stomach do all kinds of weird things. It's much different from the last kiss we shared.

"What about my mom?" I ask him gently.

Just like that, our eye contact breaks, "I'll take care of it."

That was the wrong thing for me to say, and now his answer has my anxiety arising all over again. He can't take care of it; he could get hurt. "No, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't."

"Declan, no, he's hurt you, and look at your face," I point out as my eyes become watery. Not this again.

"I'll be fine, I promise," He tries to reassure me, but I don't buy it. He can't assure his father won't hit him or what he'll do to him.

I stand up off the couch, "Please don't." I plead, my eyes begging him. I can't bear the thought of him getting hurt even more than he is now.

"Ella, I have to."

I can't look at him. He knows how much I care about him and won't even consider my feelings. The water comes bursting out of my eyes. Not being able to look at him, I run out of the room and towards the bathroom.

"Ella!" I ignore it and keep running, salty water staining my swollen cheeks.

Locking the door, I slide down against the back, bringing my knees to my chest, hugging them, and letting myself cry for the millionth time today; he's going to leave me, he's going to get himself hurt.

Why is my life so screwed up? When I finally become happy, something always gets in the way. He's the only one who understands me, the only one I can be myself around, the only one who makes my heart go wild.

I can't seem to catch a break. My tears are like a river, flowing with no intention of stopping.

A soft knock sounds on the other side of the door. But I can't open it. I care so much about him, and he doesn't see how much it affects me. If something were to happen to him, I wouldn't be able to live. Nothing would be the same.

"Ellie, open the door." I don't answer; I can't. I tighten my arms and squeeze my damp eyes shut. I won't agree with his decision, not when it puts him in harm.

Again he knocks, "Open the door, Ellie," He says softly. I shake at the words. Ellie. I hate how he can use my nickname and make me melt like butter. But it doesn't matter; I won't open the door. I care way too much to let him get hurt.

I hear him slide down the door on the other side, making my heart hammer and my chest heave; this is what he does to me, and if something were to happen to him—I wouldn't be able to bear it.

"Come on, open up," He lilts, his voice straining into a plea. My insides clench. No, no, no, don't open the door, Ella. He'll leave, and then Julian or Hayes will hurt him. I hiccup as the thoughts run through my head. I can't let that happen.

"Baby, please," He pleads, sounding so broken that my heart breaks and my resolve shatters. I can't take it anymore; I slowly and painfully stand up, unlocking the door, and then slide back down against the wall going back to hugging myself. The crying doesn't stop.

He throws the door open and rushes in. When he spots me, he slides down next to me and pulls me off the floor and into his lap, "I'm sorry," He whispers, "I'm so sorry."

I don't say anything; he pads my tears away with his calloused thumbs. "I'll figure something else out."

Edited by @Marilyn_McKnight! Thank you, I appreciate you lots!

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