Page 12 of Vicious Titan

8

Victoria

My shoulders burn as my arms slice through the water. There have been very few times I’ve enjoyed the pool without an annoying presence in the adjoining weight room lately, so I tend to overdo my extra laps when the opportunity presents itself. My luck runs out when I spot Elliot walk in. Great. Swimming the remainder of my final lap underwater, I surface at the edge of the pool, grip the side as I hop out, and snatch my towel off the bench to wrap around my body. Elliot remains a few feet away, silently standing there as I move to leave the room. For the first time since he’s arrived, I look directly at his face. His red-rimmed eyes watch me as he remains motionless. Has he been crying?

“What’s wrong?” I step closer to him, pulling the towel tighter as I tuck it under my arms. He remains silent, a look of pure agony on his face. “Elliot, what is it?”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Um. Yes.” Where the hell did that question come from? “But it’s a little late to verify that now if you’re all that concerned.”

“She’s pregnant. She’s having his son.”

“Who’s pregnant?” I ask hesitantly as a tear slips down his cheek. There’s only been one other time that I can recall seeing Elliot cry—the worst night of his life. I’d been with Asher when he’d gotten the call about Olivia. The excruciating expression on Elliot’s face when we arrived at the hospital is one I will never forget, and neither is the one on his face now.

“Heidi. My dad … my dad got her pregnant.” His arms hang limply at his sides, another tear falling down his cheek.

“What?” My hands clutch the towel to my chest. There’re a million questions going through my mind, but it’s clear that Elliot’s head is an even bigger mess.

“My mom knows.” His hands cover his face as a painful sound escapes his mouth.

Swiftly moving to him, I wrap my arms around him as he embraces me, pulling me tightly against his chest, clinging to me. “It’s going to be all right.” There’s no way he believes the words because I don’t believe them myself, but I don’t know what else to say, how to ease the torment that keeps coming his way.

“I told her I wished she was dead,” he whispers, not releasing me from his hold, instead holding me tighter.

“You were upset. It was the first time you saw her since that night. She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“But I did.”

“Elliot.” I tense at his words and shift back, attempting to look at him but he avoids my gaze. He might be a harsh asshole at times, but I know that sentiment was a result of the hurt and trauma he’s got pent up inside. Those feelings are heightened every night by the nightmares as he relives the horror over and over again. “I don’t believe that.”

He nuzzles his face against my neck, taking in a deep breath before releasing me and stepping back, his arms dropping to his sides. “That’s only because you don’t know how truly hopeless I am.”

“Elliot, please. Don’t leave like this.”

“I’m good. Really. Don’t worry about me. I only needed a second to pretend everything was okay between us.” He turns and leaves. Just like that. After the news he’d dropped, the painful revelation he’d shared with me, he’d walked away again. He can say he’s good all day long, but there’s no way he is after discovering that information. How could Richard do that to Elliot and Olivia? Maybe Olivia was only partially correct about Richard. He wanted her out of the way, but money might not have been the real reason.

If I tell Elliot what I know, it might make things worse. But I can’t do nothing. The look of agony on his face, the tears he’d shed, all of it tells me he isn’t good. Even if I regret it later, I have to make sure he’s okay. How can anyone process all that information when their head is already a mess to begin with? The only thing that’s hopeless when it comes to Elliot Bass is staying away, forgetting him, and moving on.