Freed

39

When Ethan and I finished washing all of Elijah's cars, it was well after midnight. He went upstairs without another word, claiming he needed his beauty sleep while I treaded towards the kitchen to grab myself a glass of water before I headed up to bed.

I was just about to stroll towards the fridge when I noticed Sophia and Kaiden out on the patio, the two of them talking around the fire pit. Kaiden had a small smile on his face and he seemed relaxed as he stared at her. She fiddled with some of the rings she wore on her fingers as she spoke to him. A warm feeling spread through my chest when I realized what it looked like. They both seemed like they were at home, and not just in the literal sense. As if something had been missing from Kaiden's life for so long and he'd finally gotten it back when his other half came back to him.

It was comforting to know that Kaiden would always have someone on his side now because he deserved happiness, too. Sophia would make sure he set himself straight, I could tell she'd already started to in some ways.

I grabbed my water and trekked upstairs, passing Elijah's room as I headed to mine. The door was open and he was sitting on the edge of his bed, flipping through a black binder he had resting in his hands. I paused and he looked up when he noticed me standing at the threshold. I hesitantly shuffled inside, treading over to perch down next to him. He shut the binder when I tried looking at what it was that he was looking at.

"You ever gonna grow out of this?" Elijah asked, his voice lined with amusement as he glanced over at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Grow out of what?"

"Not minding your own business," he elaborated flatly, raising his dark eyebrows in challenge.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Deal with it."

He smiled slightly and shook his head, averting his gaze. My eyes drifted down to his forearms, which were visible because he'd rolled the sleeves of his black hoodie up his arms. I studied my name inked onto the tan skin, reaching a hand over to trace the black cursive. "Do all your tattoos have meaning?" I asked because I had never thought about it before.

Elijah followed my gaze and briefly shook his head. "No. Only a few. Most of them are drunken mistakes." He noticed me staring at the small black rose on the side of his wrist and explained. "It was Mom's favorite flower."

I smiled softly at that, remembering how despite the negative connotations associated with that type of flower, she'd always loved them regardless. It was about finding beauty in the darkest things. That was something she lived by.

"Are you gonna get Elle's name tattooed?" I questioned.

Elijah shrugged and lazily clasped his hands together between his knees, shifting his gaze over to me. "We'll see," he said evenly, his lips twitching. "I'm running out of space, but I'll figure it out."

I laughed quietly. "You can get some removed if you need more room," I suggested.

Elijah's brows furrowed. "You know how much that shit hurts? Yeah, no, I'm good."

I cocked an eyebrow. "You can handle a bullet, but getting a tattoo removed is where you draw the line for pain?"

Elijah's eyes danced with amusement, his dark gaze glinting. "Yes. If I have the choice, I rather not put myself through pain."

My smile faded at that. "So what's with all the self-sacrifice then?"

He looked away, taking a deep breath. "Izzy — "

"No, but am I wrong? You always do something like that," I bit out. "I know you feel like you need to save everyone else, but you can let other people take some of the weight for you sometimes. There's nothing wrong with getting help."