Rocky Road: Sequel Book Three

Chapter 20

Elena/Mike

Elena

My heart pounds in my ears; that voice – the voice. The voice from my past, from the voicemail that I keep calling just to hear it.

It can’t be.

With the grip of the photo in my hand, I carefully turn over my shoulder to see the man in the doorway of the bathroom.

It’s him.

Michael Gilbert is standing in the doorway with a tan towel around his waist -frozen in motion with a hand on a doorknob and the other on the door frame. A scar that I’ve never seen before reaches from his abdomen to his clavicle. There are more sporadic scars, large and small, all over his body.

Other than the scars, it’s the body that I know all too well – tattoos, muscles – those green eyes and that ruffled dark hair.

My nerves are shot. This must be a dream – I’m waiting to wake up. This is the part where people generally wake up!

It can’t be him! He’s dead!

But I don’t wake up. Instead, right when I hear my name fall from those lips everything goes black.

*************

Mike

“Shit.” She fainted. Not wanting her to remain on the ground for longer than necessary, I rush over to scoop her warm body in my arms and lay her on the cot.

Fixing her legs so the knees are propped up will help the blood flow to her brain. Not being able to help myself, I lean down to provide a gentle kiss on her forehead. My lips have missed her almost as much as my heart has – but now is not the time to wallow in that!

I turn to pick up the photo from the floor and place it back on the bookshelf the way it was, then stand there like a creep watching her breathe on my bed.

She’s here. She saw me – she knows and all I want to do is hold her. Be with her…

The selfish part of me wants to be here when she wakes up – but that is wrong!

This is a mistake! She wasn’t supposed to find me.

I run a hand through my wet locks. What do I do?

While I think of a strategy, I figure I should probably ditch the towel and put on some pants. Rifling through some clothes, I find a pair of boxers and black jeans, then slide them on.

She stirs in her fainted sleep. I need a plan! Rubbing my forehead, I think… Perhaps I could hustle her over to Viper’s, put her in bed, and when she wakes up, Viper can make her think she was never here.

That it was all a dream. Or she’s gone crazy…

It could work, right?

Rolling my eyes at the plan – deciding I don’t like the idea of her thinking she’s a mental case, I figure it’s the only option at this point.

I rub the back of my neck as I step towards her. Viper is going to murder me for this. As soon as I’m about to pick her up in my arms once more to take her home, those grey-blue doe-like eyes land on mine and I freeze in place.

She pushes herself up to rest on her elbows. “Mike?” She whispers; the way she says my name is like the softest caress known to man. “Is it really you?” Elena reaches to cup my face, so I let her. Now that I’m feeling her tender touch, seeing the way she’s looking at me, and having her so close – there’s no way I’ll be able to leave her again.

No possible way.

“It is you,” she says louder and with a broad smile full of joy – I give her one in return, then something happens, that I sort of expected but never thought would actually happen.

Smack.

The sting to my cheek with enough force of a hundred wasps just turned my head to the other side.

“How could you!?” Elena screams as she pushes at my chest for me to get off the cot – away from her. “Do you know what I went through?” She hits my chest as she stands up to face me.

I don’t blame her for being pissed – I just take the hits.

She slaps my face again while at the same time hitting my chest with her other hand. “You broke my heart, Michael! I can’t believe you!”

This girl is making me back up to the wall. “This whole time… This whole time you’ve been alive!”

Of course, me being the smartass that I am, I say, “I won’t be if you keep hitting me like this.”

Those blue-grey eyes turn into a whole different storm as they darken with rage. She pauses to look at me and gasps, “You think this is funny?” Her beatings continue after one heavy slap to my chest – I try to block it, but I don’t want to hurt her, so I just let my girl get it out of her system.

She slaps my shoulder, face, and upper body… “No, of course not,” I tell her above her screams, grunts, and the clapping sound of skin, but she’s not listening. Her blows keep contacting me as tears fall from her eyes.

I knew that if she ever found me that this would happen, which is another reason why I worked so hard to prevent it from happening.

This girl was supposed to live her life and be happy.

Without me.

Suddenly, all that is left are tears. Her hands fall to her sides as she sobs. “Why, Michael? Why did you make me think you were dead?”

I reach for her arms, but she jerks them away, so I try again. “Elena,” I grunt as I grab her arms to pull her body towards me. My girl complies and I hold her. “It had to be done. I am so sorry, baby, but I had to.”

She pushes me away in an instant and asks with a shaky voice, “It’s been you, hasn’t it? You were there in that stairwell the other night. You… you’ve been following me, giving me gifts.” Her finger points in my direction after wiping the sleeve of her green sweater under her nose. “You were at my graduation! You…” She gasps and holds a hand over her mouth. “You were at prom and at Rachel's!”

I inhale a breath and glance at the floor, then nod my head once. I expected more blows, but instead, a high pitched cackle pierces my eardrum. Looking up, I see her laughing.

Laughing. The kind where her head has fallen back slightly to just bellow out.

She’s completely lost it.

“I knew it,” she screeches.

My brows knit together in confusion – there was no way she knew.

Her hysterics stop as she pins me with her stare. “In the back of my mind… I felt like you were my guardian angel. It sounds stupid, but deep down, I knew it was you.”

Without thinking of anything but her, I step forward to close the space between us, cup her face and kiss her. It’s a bold move given the situation, but it’s all I can think of doing. Our lips move like they were made for each other, as if no time had passed. She tastes sweet and savory – a lip-gloss flavor in the fruit department, I’m sure. Her moan reaches down to my soul, and I hold her close, but she fights me.

She pushes herself off me and slaps my face. Hard. But then within seconds, she’s back on me.

Our mouths clash, hands are gripping hair. I’m not sure what hands belong to who at this point. Everything is a haze but she’s, my beacon.

My true north.

I back her up to a wall and roam my palms over her with greed in those skintight jeans that just need to disappear. I squeeze her ass and lift her up, those legs of hers automatically cling around my waist as I move my mouth on hers, to her cheek, neck, and back to her mouth. She’s gripping my shoulders and hair while intermittently scratching at my skin behind my neck.

Oh, how I’ve missed her tugging at my roots.

My heart.

My soul. Everything.

With the situation growing hot, I move her to the cot, her legs still have me in a vice and we both work frantically on her cashmere sweater to take it off. No time left to waste; I unclip her bra at the same moment she unbuttons my jeans.

It’s as though we are famished and are given a hefty meal after wandering alone in the desert for days on end. No thoughts, just actions, instinctual and primal actions.

With haste, our hands work with a feverish motion to remove any material separating us.

It. Is. on.

****Thank you so much for your continued reads and patience! Working two jobs, sometimes it's hard to find the mental energy to write. However, here is chapter 20 and I will be working on a very steamy chapter 21 :) I plan to update again next week - should everything go as planned****