14. Clothes Off!

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With my phone resting against my English anthology, I continue chatting to Elliot, our thirty minute back and forth mostly consisting of potential conversation starters.

"I suggest playing it safe with a simple hi," he offers.

"I agree," I state, logging into Instagram as S_D_S and bringing up Lucy's account.

After all, we don't know what we're up against yet.

"D'ya think she did it?" I ask, hitting send on our agreed 'hi'. "D'ya think Lucy killed Sienna?"

"Anything is possible," he replies. Why?"

"I used to play with her. When we were kids."

"So?"

"So, I'm having a hard time accepting it."

He shuffles closer to his camera's lens, seemingly studying me. "That's okay."

I spy a small section of his bedroom and notice a bookshelf to his left. It's a lot withered and barely standing, housing no more than ten books. His walls are dark. Perhaps blue? And he doesn't have curtains.

"No, it's not okay. I'm not supposed to let my emotions get in the way of the investigation."

"Says who?"

I shrug. "It's just fact."

"Real life dictates us sometimes," he informs. "It requires action."

I take pause, hating my reluctance. "They did this in Killer King."

"Did what?"

"Ignored the evidence. Refused to accept what it was trying to tell them."

"You're not them, Helena. You're you," he states. "And we have an actual fighting chance at figuring out the truth with you on the case."

I smile, appreciating his kindness. His determination.

"You really believe we can do this, don't you?" I ask.

"I believe you can," he replies, voice soft.

I'm about to respond when my laptop pings, signalling a reply. I avert my attention and flip the camera on my phone so that Elliot can read along with me.

Lucy_G_:
I did everything
you asked. Please.
No more.

From this, it's clear Lucy isn't S_D_S.

"Ask her what she did," suggests Elliot, squinting to read the screen.

S_D_S:
What exactly
did you do, Lucy?

Lucy_G_:
I posted the pictures
and sent the texts.
Everything you asked.

S_D_S:
And what do
you get in return?

I feel slightly guilty goading her like this. It's clear she's being threatened but I need to know why? I need to know what leverage the killer has over her?

Lucy_G_:
You promised you
wouldn't post the video.
Please, I'm begging you.
I've only just got my
life back on track.

"The sex tape," reveals Elliot. "The killer is blackmailing her."

"No, it's more than that," I say, flipping the camera back to me. "They're setting her up."

"Huh?"

"Think about it. Lucy sends the texts, which can easily be traced back to her in Ohio. She already has beef with Sienna regarding the sex tape, therefore a plausible motive. And why else would the killer ask her to post replica images of Sienna, Tom and Zoe on Instagram?"

"Holy shit. You're right. Lucy's being framed and she doesn't even know it."

I sign out of the fake account and straight into mine, dragging up Lucy's profile. We're not following each other but I don't let it stop me. I click on the message icon and watch as it brings up a completely empty chat bar.

Lena_xo:
Hi Lucy.
It's Helena Gallagher.
We used to play in
your paddling pool as kids :)
I'm investigating the
murder of Sienna Michaels.
Please can we talk?

A few minutes pass.

Lena_xo
Please?

'Your message could not be delivered at this time.'

"Fuck!"

"What?" asks Elliot.

"She blocked me. Lucy blocked me!"

"As S_D_S?"

"No, as me. "

I've blown it.

"She's in trouble, Elliot."

"Yeah," he agrees. "What's the plan?"

"We could recruit Michelle. They're still friends, right?"

"I doubt Michelle will comply if Lucy blocked you."

Shit!

"You're right. Any ideas?"

"Let's sleep on it and regroup tomorrow. There's bound to be a way."

I nod. "Don't hang up just yet, though."

"Okay," he says. "I won't."

I close the lid on my laptop and climb into bed, positioning my phone on my pillows. Elliot watches my every move, saying nothing.

"How good at you at sneaking out?" I ask.

"I'm alright. Why?"

"Wanna hang?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Now?"

I nod.

"Helena, it's eleven thirty. There's an 8 PM curfew. If I get caught..."

"I'll pay the bill," I promise.

He falters. "You're really that desperate to see me, huh?"

"I got a letter from Penn today."

His posture stiffens in an instant. "And?"

"And, I haven't opened it yet."

"Why?"

"What if I don't get in?" I ask. "What if they don't want me."

"They'll want you," he insists. "Trust me."

I shrug.

"Alright, hang tight," he relents. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Really?" I cant help but smile.

"If I get caught, you owe me."

"Don't get caught then."

He simply glares, then hangs up, leaving me with nothing to do but stare at a blank screen and await his arrival.

His much anticipated arrival.

****

****

Asking Elliot to trek across town when a blizzard is raging outside is careless, selfish and damn right stupid. He's soaked through by the time he reaches me, shivering from the cold.

"Take your clothes off," I instruct, once I close to door to my bedroom.

"What?"

"You'll get sick, otherwise."

"Helena, I'm not stripping," he informs, clutching his leather jacket.

I roll my eyes and take it upon myself to make him see sense. I grab the hem of my pyjama top and pull it over my head, revealing my white, lace bra. I then do the same with my bottoms until I'm left only in my panties.

"Now will you?"

His eyes stray from my face, exploring my half naked body.

"Helena-"

"It's just skin, Elliot. I don't want you to get sick."

He sighs. "Fine."

He drapes his leather jacket across my chair, his T-shirt following shortly after. The dampness of his jeans cling to his thick thighs as he pushes them slowly down his legs, begrudgingly so. I shamelessly watch his every move, enjoying the way his body ripples with each item of clothing that is removed. I take his jeans and T-shirt, placing them on my heater, figuring they'll dry much quicker this way.

"Are you still cold?" I ask, turning around.

Sporting only black boxers, he nods, prompting me to shuffle closer. I gently place my hands on his arms and rub furiously, hoping to initiate enough friction to ignite heat. He watches me watching him, my attention prominently on his toned stomach.

"What are these?"

"Scars," he replies, his voice a mere whisper.

I trace the outline of one, the jagged skin rough against my fingertips.

"I was my dad's punching bag for years," he shares. "And his ashtray."

I snap my gaze to his, his ocean blues now midnight skies.

"Is that why you didn't want to strip in front of me?"

He nods.

"You're still beautiful," I tell him, pushing his hair back. "Still sexy."

He smiles.

"I didn't mean to ambush you."

"You didn't," he insists, nervously placing his hands at either side of my waist. "You're stunning."

Goosebumps appear on my arms.

"I can't believe I'm looking at you."

"Why can't you believe it?" I ask, tip-toeing closer.

We're a mere inch apart.

"I've been imagining it a lot lately."

"Oh, yeah?"

His thumbs circle my hip bone.

"What you might look like underneath your clothes."

"Me too," I admit, blushing. "I hope I live up to expectations."

"You exceed them," he ensures, resting his forehead against mine.

I breathe him in, hating the chill still present throughout his body. "C'mere." I guide him towards my bed and under the covers. "I swear this isn't an ambush."

He laughs.

"I'm not trying to seduce you."

"Consider me seduced," he jokes.

I pull the covers over our heads and sit cross-legged, opposite him.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask. "About your dad."

"Not right now. Let's focus on you getting into the college of your dreams."

I'm immediately reminded about the possibility of failing.

"And if I don't?" I ask, sliding the letter out from underneath my pillow.

"Then, I'll kiss you."

What?

"I beg your pardon?"

"If you don't get in, I'll kiss you. Either way, it's a win-win."

"Is that so?"

He nods.

"Can you open if for me?" I ask. "I'm too nervous."

"Sure. Now?"

I shrug. "Might as well."

Elliot grasps the crisp envelope and tares into it with perhaps a little more strength than necessary. Uncovering the letter, he uses his phone's light as a touch and skims over the words addressed to me. I attempt to read his expression, though he gives nothing away. I feel sick. Ready to puke. Dread washes over me as I consider my options. There's always Northwestern to fall back on. Chicago isn't too far away and it's a good school. A brilliant school, in fact. Ranked ninth in the country.

"You got in."

I what?

"Are you sure?" I ask, straddling his lap to read through the letter. "Oh my God!"

He wraps his arms around my waist and lies back, taking me along for the ride. I land on top of him, squealing my delight.

"I'm going to Penn, Elliot!"

"I never doubted it for one second."

I sit up, noticing tears in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Just happy," he admits, still holding me. "You're gonna do amazing things, Lena."

I rest my hand against his cheek and caress his skin. "Will you still kiss me?"

"A celebratory kiss?"

I nod.

"Sure."

He places a sweet kiss on my cheek. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

I snuggle into his chest, overwhelmed by his kindness. "That was my first kiss."

"Did it live up to expectations?" he asks.

"It exceeded them."

He shoots me a smile and kisses the other.

"Now, you're just spoiling me," I say.

He grins and for a moment, it's all I need.

"Can I ask you something?" I say. "About your dad?"

"Yeah, sure," he replies, pulling my body flush to his.

The lace of my bra presses into his pecs.

"Is he the reason you wanna be a cop?"

Every inch of him tenses beneath me. "Yeah. My third grade teacher saw burns on my arms one day."

"Miss Polly?"

He nods. "She told social services and the police. They conducted a home visit and did nothing."

I take to caressing his arms.

"My dad beat me every day for the next seven years."

I hold onto his face and level my gaze with his. "I can't believe it. Seven years?"

He nods. "I thought it was normal. I thought every dad did that to their kid."

My heart breaks for him. For the childhood he never got.

"I want to make sure that doesn't happen again. I want to protect kids like me. Help them."

I smile.

"You patched me up one day," he claims. "I don't know if you remember that?"

I search my memory, coming up short.

"We were ten. I came to school with a cut on my leg and you put a band aid on it. You told me you wanted to help people when you grew up." He laughs. "I asked you to marry me."

"Oh my God. What did I say?"

"You let me down gently. Said you couldn't commit to a relationship."

I laugh, swatting his chest. "I rejected you?"

"Still hurts, even to this day."

"Bet you never expected to see me in my bra and panties years later."

He instinctively looks to my chest. "I think my ten-year-old mind would've exploded at the thought."

We both smile.

"Look, I can't offer you marriage but I might be able to give you the next best thing?"

"What's that?" he enquires.

"A honeymoon."

He frowns. "A honeymoon?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking about ways to contact Lucy."

"And?" he asks. "What's that got to do with us having a honeymoon?"

"Ever been on a road trip?" I question.

Another frown. "Never even left Michigan."

I shoot him my cheesiest grin. "That settles it then. Let's go to Ohio. This weekend."

"Are you serious?"

I nod. "It'll be fun, plus informative."

He squeezes my waist. "Fuck it, yeah, let's go!"

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," he replies, kissing my cheek again. "Honeymoon to Ohio!"

I can't wait!

****

I mean...it ain't a wattpad book if it doesn't include a ROAD TRIP!

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