Haunted by the Past (Original)

Chapter 21

After spending a good hour reading news article after news article about us, I slammed my phone down and went to the fridge to throw some ingredients together for dinner. After the night before where I put actual care into what could've been my last meal, this time I just chucked some chops onto the pan to fry along with a couple of potatoes and broccoli. My creativity was an all time low.

Not a lot was said about Eli in the articles other than the fact he was wanted for fraud, digital sabotage, grand larceny and murder. Several murders. It wasn't anything I didn't already know, which frustrated me. On one hand I was glad the media didn't know more than I did, but on the other I was still pissed as hell that I was in the dark.

Meanwhile the media didn't hesitate to paint the image that I was suffering a psychotic break as a result of my PTSD. There were plenty of people, many whose names I didn't even know, coming forwards to say I was a loner and maybe this sort of thing was to be expected. So much for my badass reputation. I had to work on turning that around to make Gabe proud.

Gabe...

My hand shook so much I had to put the fry pan back down on the stove. My heart squeezed tight while the horrible memory replayed in my head for the millionth time. This is what I hated most about grief. The constant memories leading to more fucking useless tears. It took ages to be able to stop spontaneously crying over Heather and Brodie, but I was back to square one again. I had hoped I'd be stronger the second time around, but apparently not.

Fucking Gabe! He shouldn't have gone in! Why didn't he wait for backup!? He knew what Triple-6 was capable of! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

I don't know if Eli heard me kicking into the bottom cupboard or if he had smelled the food on the fry pan starting to burn, but suddenly he was there by my side. He picked up the fry pan and slid the contents onto the two plates I had waiting on the counter. Making sure the hotplate was turned off first, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight without saying a word. I quietly sobbed into his chest while he squeeze me tight.

"The food you cooked will get cold," he whispered in my ear after a couple of minutes.

After a moment, I nodded and he let me go. His hand caressed my cheek gently then he leant down and kissed my lips softly. Before I could greedily cling to him for more, he pulled away and picked up the dinner plates to take to the table. Taking a deep breath to recenter myself, I moved to the table to join him.

The dinner was quiet between us. Occasionally I glanced up and watched him eat solemnly. The more I looked though the more I noticed the little things. His eyes were even more sunken than when I first arrived even though I went out of my way to make sure he was eating better. His fingertips were red as he had bitten off too much from his nails. When he rested his off-hand onto the table, it trembled ever so slightly. Clearly his jitters were from being over-caffeinated. I was so distracted, my fork slipped out of my hand and hit the table, causing him to jump.

"Sorry," I said meekly.

"It's ok," Eli shook his head.

"Are you ok though?" I frowned.

"Yes, why?" he answered a little too shortly.

"I don't know, you seem a little on edge," I shrugged.

Eli sighed, "I've got a lot on my plate, that's all."

"Anything I can help you with?" I gently placed my hand over his.

After an extended pause, he eventually grumbled a "No." As an uncomfortable quiet fell, he decided to feign interest and ask, "What have you been up to?"

"Research," I answered vaguely. "The group chat was active earlier. First time in six years."

"I received a notification, but I was too busy to check. You didn't log in, did you?" he narrowed his eyes.