Never Giving Up (Never #3) (8 page)

BOOK: Never Giving Up (Never #3)
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“Deal, but it was fun just the one time.” He lightly patted my rear as he headed out the door.

“I think we both really lucked out in the man department, Fella,” Megan said, watching Porter leave the store.

“We sure did,” I sighed. “I’m gonna go take a look at the sales reports in the back, cool?”

“Sure, everything is saved on the computer and I think the hard copies are in the filing cabinet if you’d rather see those.”

“Ok, thanks, Megs.” Megan was doing a fabulous job running this store for me, and every day I was more and more impressed by her drive and savvy business sense. I rarely worried about Poppy anymore knowing she was here and making it thrive. “You’re really doing a great job here, Megan. I hope you understand that I really appreciate everything you do for this store.”

A slight blush spread over her face. “Thanks, Sis. I love this store and I love the girls. I’m so glad you gave me this opportunity.”

I winked at her and headed to the back room. I grabbed some of the paper files and then settled onto the love seat to look them over. Megan was right, the sales at Poppy were strong, stronger than they had been at that time last year. I tried not to think about how last year’s numbers could have been tainted by Kyle’s embezzlement. Again, I tried to push those thoughts out of my head. Poppy was doing well all on its own, with Megan, Brittany, and Sarah supporting it. They were working hard and it was paying off.

I yawned, realizing all at once that I was exhausted. I flipped through a few more reports, but felt my eyelids drooping, feeling very heavy. Suddenly, I was alone in the dark, laying still on the couch. I must have fallen asleep, but I was confused as to why Porter hadn’t come back for me.

I jumped when I heard a loud knocking coming from the front of the store, as if someone was banging on the glass. My heart stuttered and my pulse thundered through my veins. Without my permission, my body stood and started walking towards the front of the store. Inside, my mind yelled not to go out there, but my legs weren’t listening; they carried me out. There wasn’t anything I could do about it.

When I came around the corner, out of the backroom, I saw him standing there—the man in the black hoodie. This time he wasn’t outside, he waited for me in the store. Head down, face hidden, he raised one arm towards me and I screamed the instant I saw the gun. My mouth opened and I heard my shattered cries echo off the walls.

I jumped, gasping for air at the sound of the gun firing, but when my eyes opened I wasn’t looking at the shooter, I was looking at Porter.

“Ella, hey, what’s happening? Is everything ok?” He knelt on the floor next to the couch I was sprawled out on. I blinked a few times, trying to focus on him and not the pounding of my heart or the incessant pulsing in my ears. I was sweaty and hot.

“He was here. I saw him,” I mumbled, trying to put into words the thoughts running through my mind.

“Babe, no one is here. It’s just me. Take some deep breaths for me.” I gripped his arm needing something to anchor myself. His hand came up and gently caressed the side of my face and I leaned into him. “Just breathe, Ella.” I took his advice and let the air pass through me, trying to release the tension with every exhale. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I must have fallen asleep,” I whispered. “I was just looking over the sales reports and I think I dozed off.”

“Were you dreaming about Kyle?”

I shook my head. “No, it was the shooter, the guy in the hoodie.” I let out one last breath and I felt exhausted. “He was in the store this time, not outside.” Porter’s brow furrowed and I knew he was upset by the situation. When Kyle died, most of the threat went away, but there was still one last loose end just floating around—the shooter. According to Kyle, he was just some kid he’d hired, so chances were that he wasn’t really after me, just doing a job. The police urged us not to be afraid. The shooter didn’t have an agenda against me, and since Kyle was dead, he didn’t have any reason to come back to finish at what he’d failed at—killing me. But, understandably, I was having a hard time
not
fearing the man who shot me that was still free.

Also understandably, Porter was not happy the shooter was roaming around Portland a free man. There was nothing either of us could do about it. I lived every day trying not to think about it, because I could drive myself crazy. But being here, in this store, on this couch, was obviously too much for my mind.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly five. I was just coming to get you to go to your parents’ house. Are you still feeling up to it?” The back of his hand was still running along my cheek.

“Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Ella, it’s ok if you’re not. We can just go home and tell them another day.”

I shook my head. “No, I want to tell them tonight. I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine, but I would be. I wouldn’t let this control me. I couldn’t.

 

 

 

The past few days were a roller coaster. Ella was up and down. She was constantly trying to pretend like she was ok, but I knew she wasn’t. The dream she’d had at Poppy really dragged her down and she struggled. I could feel it.

She’d put on a brave face for her parents that evening, and I loved her even more for it. Watching her mom and dad realize they were going to be grandparents was an awesome moment. She held my hand and slid the ultrasound picture across the table to her mother over dessert. Her mom looked at the picture, then looked up at Ella, and must have looked back and forth a hundred times before she finally muttered a frantic, “Is this what I think it is?” Tears were in Susan’s eyes as well as Ella’s and all Ella could do was nod her head, lip trembling, chin quivering. I looked at her dad and he looked like someone had told him he’d won a million dollars—pure joy and elation.

Her parents stood and hugged us both, her dad holding on to her for so long I wondered if he’d ever let her go.

It was perfect.

Then her mom took her into the office and they started looking at nursery decoration ideas on some website about thumbtacks or some such nonsense. It was a distraction for Ella—one that, at that moment, she’d desperately needed.

We both arrived in Lincoln City late the night before and went straight to bed. When I woke it was to sunlight streaming into the large windows that faced the ocean. The room was bathed in soft white light, but even the sunshine couldn’t remove the dark circles that were painted under Ella’s eyes. She looked exhausted even as she slept. She hadn’t mentioned having any more nightmares, but it was obvious the sleep she was getting wasn’t doing her much good.

I rolled towards her, completely satisfied to just take her in, to watch her in a state a peacefulness. To see her relaxed was something of a rare occurrence these days. My eyes moved over the blonde hair fanned out across her pillow, the way her hands were tightly tucked in under her cheek, the way her shoulders moved with every breath she took in.

I must have dozed off because I startled when I felt something move against my face. I opened my eyes and met her dazzling blue ones. Her hand ran along my jaw, smoothing over the roughness of my skin, unshaved for a few days now.

“Did you wake up to watch me sleep?” She asked, a knowing smile on her face.

“How did you know?”

“You usually sleep facing the window.” She shrugged. “Just a good guess.” She moved towards me and I opened my arms for her, breathing in her vanilla scent as she pressed her body into my chest. My arms wrapped around her, pulling her in even closer. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?” She said after a few moments of warm silence.

“I always worry about you,” I said as I smoothed my hand over her golden hair. “But yes, I’m worried about you. And about the baby.” I felt her press her face into the space between my shoulder and neck, her breath moving over my skin sent goose bumps along my arms. “Will you talk to me? Are you having more nightmares?” I felt her mumble something into my neck, making me chuckle at her playfulness. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

She moved away slightly and I heard her take in a breath. “I’ve had one or two nightmares in the last couple days, but I’m not sure it’s the nightmares that are taking the biggest toll on me.” She paused and moved back even farther, her eyes finding mine. “All day long I find myself thinking about the shooter, wondering where he is, worrying that he’s going to come back or somehow find me.” She rolled farther from me and her hands came to rub up and down her face. I sat quietly and waited for more from her. I knew she wasn’t finished. Her hands finally came to rest above her head on her pillow and she looked over at me.

“How long will this last? How long will I have to spend my days fearing someone I can’t even remember fully? It doesn’t seem fair. I’ve had my life turned upside down because of this man:
we’ve
had our lives turned upside down, I’ve lost my memory, been hospitalized, and dealt with so much emotional baggage due to him, and yet he still haunts me. He was in front of me for all of forty-five seconds but he altered my life in an immeasurable way.” Her hand came up to wipe away one single tear. My girl was trying so hard to be strong. I saw her strength every day and knew she didn’t give herself enough credit.

“Hey, Babe,” I said, pulling her back into me, her face just inches from mine. “He’s got absolutely no reason to come back for you, none. He was more than likely just some homeless kid who wanted to make a buck. He doesn’t know who you are. He doesn’t care. You’ve got every right to be angry, but every reason to try and take back your life.”

“What if the nightmares never go away? What if I have to spend the rest of my life battling someone who isn’t even here?”

I could hear her voice edging on the precipice of panic. I would always do everything I could to make her feel safe, but I couldn’t be inside of her head, as much as I’d like to be sometimes. Even if she looked fine on the outside, she could be waging a war on the inside and no one would ever be the wiser.

“I think you’re doing a fantastic job, Ella. I can’t imagine the stress you’re under, but you have to understand that you are safe. I will never let anything happen to you. What else can I do to make you feel more secure? We can leave. We can up and move to another state, another country even. Anything, if it makes you feel safer.” I felt her head shake in my hands, her no immediate and forceful.

“I won’t let him run me away from my home or my family.”

And that’s how I knew, in the end, Ella would always be stronger than anything she battled against in her mind. She was a warrior, fierce and brave. She just never gave herself enough credit.

“And I won’t let you put yourself through anymore torture. You need to talk to me more, talk to somebody, when you’re feeling this way. Talking helps, yes?” She nodded. I kissed her forehead. “Good. Promise me.”

“I promise to talk to someone when I’m feeling anxious,” she said, humoring me.

I pressed a soft kiss against her lips, silently thanking her for appeasing me.

“Are you ready to go see my mom, or would you like to sleep a little more?” My hand wandered down and my finger feathered across her soft stomach, something I did now without even thinking about it.

“We might as well go now. I don’t think I could get back to sleep if I tried.”

“Will you shower with me?” I asked, my hand moving from her belly, over her waist, coming to rest on the swell of her ass. I was instantly glad she only wore a tee shirt and panties to bed as my hand had free reign over her smooth skin. I tugged her towards me, her hips fitting perfectly against mine, relishing in the way her eyes widened and mouth parted with a small gasp.

“Something tells me showering isn’t the only thing you have in mind,” her voice thick and low.

“I just want to make you feel better,” I replied, dragging my lips across hers, purposefully teasing.

“You’re on the right track.”

“Mmm . . .” I gave in and took her mouth fully against mine. She had the most perfect lips: full, thick, and pink. They always molded perfectly to mine and that always reminded me that she was, undoubtedly, made for me. My lips parted hers and her tongue fluttered out, mingling with mine. I couldn’t help the groan that found its way out of me and loved the whimper she met it with. The sounds she made when we were connected were, without a doubt, the sexiest sounds I had ever heard. Hearing her moan sent more hot blood through my veins, concentrating in my dick. I pulled back and she let out a startled complaint. “We need to get in the shower now, or it will take us an hour to make it there.”

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