Temptation

Part 8

It took a couple of hours for Eleanor to call Brendon and let him know he could pick her up. He had been obsessively checking his emails in hopes that the NSA’s Cryptography had found out anything about Lightman, but there were still nothing. He paid his bill at the bar and rushed to Eleanor.

As he got there, he saw Eleanor standing on the outside of the building’s door, but she was not alone; there were three guys around her, one of them talking too close to her face in a visibly threatening manner. Feeling his blood turning cold inside his veins, Brendon quickly parked and left the car, running to help the girl.

“HEY!” he screamed; the man who was talking to Eleanor was the same who approached her on the Nerissa Club that night: tall, black and with an undeniable mischievous look. He was already grabbing Eleanor’s arm discreetly.

“Let her go,” he warned. “Or you will get hurt.”

Putting his hand on his coat and moving it aside, he showed them his gun. “Now.”

“Don’t get all worked up, man,” the man said, smiling. “Just a chat between old friends. Right, Ellie?”

Eleanor shook her arm off his grip; Brendon noticed she was shaking.

“It seems to me that the lady doesn’t want to chat,” Brendon replied coldly. “So, let her go and don’t ever let me see you with your filthy hands on her again.”

The man didn’t seem to be threatened by it; he smiled sarcastically, approaching Brendon as he had done to Eleanor and speaking right in his face.

“Don’t you know who I am? I could end your race right here if I wanted to.”

Brendon didn’t step back. “I don’t give a shit about who you are. This girl is worth a thousand times what you do, and if you do anything to her, you’re history. Now move along.”

“This is a public place,” the man replied, daringly. “I do whatever I want.”

“The stay here, if you want. Miss Lightman, come with me.”

Eleanor didn’t wait for a second invitation. She rushed to Brendon, and he made sure she’d walk in front of him, as he kept an eye on the group the whole time. Only when they finally reached the car that he spoke.

“Okay, I think there is something I should know.”

“It was nothing,” she rushed to say, her face pale as death.

“Nothing? It’s the second time this guy comes after you. Each time with backup. Who is he? What does he want with you?”

“It’s none of your business!” she replied.

“Yes, it is! It is of my business, when I’m in charge of your safety. Now, tell me who are they, and why are they chasing you, or else I will have to report this to your father.”

At that, Eleanor, if that was even possible, turned paler. Brendon knew there was something very wrong happening, and he was not going to let her keep it a secret for too long.

“He’s just an ex-boyfriend,” she finally said, unconvincingly. “A bitter ex. Happy?”

“What’s his name?”

“Samuel. John Samuel.”

“Your ex-boyfriend.”

“Correct.”

She was lying; Brendon could see it.

“Why can’t I believe in you?”

“I don’t care. You wanted answers, now you have them.”

“Is it the true answer?”

“It’s my answer. It must be enough for you.”

“Are you in danger, Eleanor? Because if you feel you might be, you must tell me…”

“Must tell you?” she laughed. “I don’t have to tell you anything! I’m a grown up and I do whatever the hell I want to!”

That was enough for Brendon; he started the car furiously, making Eleanor fall on the back seat.

“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed. “Slow down, you freak!”

Brendon didn’t bother to reply; he simply kept moving fast through the streets, so fast that Eleanor had to grab the passenger’s seat as she yelled at him.

His mind was racing, and the alcohol made everything look red; Eleanor had trigged something Brendon had struggled to bury inside him. As memories flashed inside his mind, he tried his best to get to his destination.

“Where are we?” Eleanor asked, relieved, as the car finally stopped.

“Come with me,” Brendon mumbled, getting off the car. They had stopped in the Charles C. Glover Memorial Bridge. Eleanor looked around uncertain as Brendon walked on.

He stopped after a few meters, looking down. Eleanor was intrigued, so she decided to leave the car as well and timidly walked to him.

“My brother,” Brendon said as Eleanor stopped by his side. “was a very passionate guy. He loved life, he wanted to live the present and do everything he wanted without anyone holding him back.”

Eleanor didn’t say a word; Brendon sighed, looking up.

“Then, my mother died, years ago. My father changed. He started getting too obsessed with work and he decided to control m and my siblings. Every step we took, everything we did, he had to know, he had to approve. That smothered Ben, and little by little he became a melancholic, depressed man.”

He pointed to a point in the bridge. “He killed himself, he jumped right there. I was seventeen.”

“I’m sorry…”

“And the last time I saw him,” he went on. “The very last time… He was having a fight with my father, and he said ‘I’m a grown up and I do whatever the hell I want to!’”.

“I’m really sorry…” Eleanor mumbled. “I didn’t know… I’m so sorry…”

She put her soft hand on his shoulder.

“I know how you feel,” he said. “And I know how parents can be overprotective. But they always have their head on the right place. Your father just wants to protect you, and he is right to. Don’t make it difficult.”

“It is difficult,” she replied. “Ever since my mother killed herself.”

Brendon looked at her surprised. “Your mother killed herself?”

“Yes. She left a note telling what she was going to do and we never saw her again. She vanished and drawn herself. We didn’t even find her body to give her a proper burial…” Eleanor’s bottom lip trembled with emotion. “Everything has been so complicated ever since.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And my father… I don’t know. I don’t want to know. He’s not the man I used to know.”

“But he loves you,” Brendon said, taking her hand. “And your siblings. He wants to protect you all because he knows a man in his position is in constant danger, especially with beautiful children.”

He glimpsed a tear rolling down her rosy cheek, getting lost on her red lips. “Maybe you’re right…”

They stayed like that for long minutes, holding hands looking at some point ahead, where each their happy families were smiling, and there was no tragedy and no pain. Slowly, the anger inside Brendon faded away, and a warm comfort sprouted inside his chest.

“Let’s go, I’ll take you home,” he finally said, and he was smiling.