He didn’t.
Oh sweet skies, no, he didn’t.
Elsa was so sure she would draw blood with how hard her teeth dug to her bottom lip, since she was getting Elgon’s cryptic message and it earned a terrible notion in her gut. Her lungs were struggling to breathe since she just couldn’t drink in all the strong, mocking tension the menace was making between her and... Was Claire shaking?
She knew. When she shouldn’t have.
Guilt bloomed greatly within her. Of course Claire deserved to know—but out of all the people that could tell her... It had to be him.
Not this way.
Her heart felt like it could be ripped out of her chest and it’s so damn painful. Cheeks flushed, she did everything beyond her willpower to avoid going horrendously hysterical. Her knuckles are already white with the way her fists were clenched, and soon she realized, her daughter wasn’t the only one who’s beginning to lose restraint.
Aiden cringed, and hesitated if he should run forward and just take the shivering little girl in his arms. But he can’t. Not now, at least. “Oh.. no, Claire...”
And there she finally heard it. A pitched cry, soon accompanied by an unsteady wail, and everything seemed to fall apart in Elsa’s perspective excruciatingly and she hated how every shattering piece mocked her. Her knees felt like buckling; and the wetness prickling her lashes was equivalent to the child silently trying to acknowledge the revelation.
Breathe.
The paper—the one that had St. Anne’s Orphanage imprinted on it—fell from one of the brute’s hands tantalizingly to the petrol scented ground, and Elsa’s eyes rushed to flicker over the ridged document and she didn’t even make an effort to pick it up.
Baby... Please breathe...
“W-what’s the other one?” Aiden scowled, and he bent down to snatch it because he knew the woman beside him obviously couldn’t, and his heart ached to kiss even a single tear away to let her know that he cares, unlike the smug blond crushing the cancer stick with his heel.
Elgon smirked, “That’s not for you to handle.”
A marriage contract.
“Simple deal. You sign, I give back your precious little Claire, Arendelle... And if you love your daughter enough,” Elgon huskily said, “Future Mrs. Davis.”
Bile threatened to rise up to her throat; but she had to keep going. She had to be strong. The situation’s still under her control, and everything is going according to the plan and just like how Heine has called it, she is luring in the hungry cat successfully. She just has to cope until then.
Elsa gritted her teeth, and she did her best to jam her hand inside her pocket to pull out a sole pen—not before Aiden caught her wrist and she found the fearful tears in his eyes and he was shaking his head that she wouldn’t... she wouldn’t do this. Elsa knew Aiden didn’t know the plan the executive director formulated via text during the drive, therefore the secretary was clueless.
Soon the ink met the space above the horizontal line, and there was no flaw with the intricate signature she left on the sacred page. And as Aiden’s heart grew numb every passing second, it finally broke.
“Nice choice,” Elgon smiled, and Elsa swallowed before she could slap his broad arm away from her shoulder, “Men. Release the brat.”
With all the strength he had left, no more longer than a matter of moments Aiden caught the shoved four year old in his arms and he emotionlessly clutched her close, equally desolated as the girl in his arms with betrayal written across their glossy orbs.
Elsa’s eyes were elsewhere, and Aiden knew she couldn’t face them because she had to do this. She was becoming a pawn to Elgon’s mindless game and he despised the foul, bitter taste it left on his mouth.
Aiden just didn’t know they were locked on similar blue irises behind a parking column.
Claire clung on to him tighter; closer so she wouldn’t see anything she didn’t want to see. She has heard the things she didn’t want to hear, oh the poor child. His fingers crawled up to her lighter blonde strands, and he soothed her even though he knew entirely well comfort cannot be enough.
Fate had other plans.
Or, should Elsa say, Heine had other plans.
Unfortunately, Elgon had a sharp ear, so he managed to hear the pained grumbles coming from the two thugs formerly situated at his sides, and his startled gaze found the blood trickling down their jeans—causing him to frantically remove his arm from around the CEO’s shoulder to heighten his senses. Before he could take the contract back to his clutches, the agonizing rip from Elsa’s fingertips echoed repeatedly through his ears.
A maniacal intention usurped him.
Aiden hoisted Claire up to his hip swiftly and covered her ears. He scrambled up to his feet just in time to grab Elsa’s arm to drag her away from the commotion brimming in the center—
Claire screamed; and Aiden toppled over with a pained groan leaving his lips before he heard another gunshot.
Elsa’s knees suspended beneath her as she gathered all her strength to pull even half of his body up to her lap. Her heart ached while his own begged for mercy, and her tears cascaded down her cheeks after she heard him whimper in agony the moment she found the bloody gash by his abdomen. Aiden’s crimson essence coated her skin, and now, it almost felt just as excruciating to look at her hands.
Aiden argued with his body and weakly reached up with his own, wincing as every ounce of his strength is rapidly vanishing.
He reached up higher and higher, until he got to caress the pale freckles contrasting her lush face. Elsa leaned against his touch, until she decided to dip her face down against the cooling crook of his neck. Even at the brink of death, he still smells like fantasy and flowers, the ones he loved to give her when he would tend to his mother’s garden every Saturday morning.
A sob betrayed her throat and Elsa hugged him tighter, emitting a wince from him. She murmured a silent apology; I’m sorry I dragged you into my own mess, I’m sorry you had to clean up a mess that isn’t yours, I’m so sorry—
“I-i..”
Her watery eyes darted downwards to meet his. She hardly expected for him to be able to utter a single syllable at this point, seeing how it would cost him a dear breath. Elsa was doing her best to stop the fruition of her tears, all because she couldn’t afford to lose the sight of him more.
“Shh, darling,” Elsa feebly whispers, pressing her forehead next to his. He felt heartbreakingly cold.
Aiden’s lips quivered, struggling to form what they desired. Black, Elsa, black, Elsa, black, darling—he wanted to keep his eyes open, an endeavor only pushing him further into unconsciousness.
His pulses froze.
So did time.
“I love you. Elsa.”
His eyes closed, the sight of his gentle lashes trickling down to meet the paling skin of his cheeks scarring her gaze. A wobbling sound died in her throat, and lived again, and again, and again.
Because he meant something.
They meant something.
And it’s being taken away from her.
She couldn’t hear the ambulance. Her ears were deaf to the police. She couldn’t feel the grip Heine had around her arm as he tried to pry her off from the dying man in her arms while he was telling her they had to patch him up, he’ll handle everything else and Claire’s got to get some rest and so does she.
But she didn’t want to let him go.
“Miss?”
His eyes are just closed.
Even the medic approaching her can hear her breathing was too labored. Elsa’s heart slammed against her chest in illusory anticipation, denying that his own pulses weren’t doing the same anymore, but reality kept gliding back to taunt the false conclusion she kept hanging up on the wall of her brain with a pretty little frame she wished was real. Her lips were nestled against the shell of his ear, quivering whilst stumbling over the golden syllables of his name as if it promised a reply.
“Aiden.”
He’s still here. Aiden Antoine Laurant, you’re still here, tell me you are.
His hand was masculine, veined, far bigger than her own—but it didn’t match how hers moved, how hers responded. She kept their fingers intertwined; their bodies pressed. It was as if he would completely disappear if she allowed him to hang limp just like that of a worn doll.
He just needs to wake up.
“Aiden.”
The cerulean panes of her eyes cracked like an aging chapel’s windows when he hardly stirred. She squeezed his head next to her heartbeat, moving her lips up to his hair to leave an aching trail of pleading kisses on his scalp which were all left unfelt.
“P-please, love,” She tearfully whimpered, shaking him slightly. The recent nickname slipped off her lips with an audible throb, in regret she never called him so before. She had taken so much from him, he was left with only a shell.
A bloodied, unmoving shell.
The medic’s shadow loomed over her figure, right behind her now. “Kindly part from the patient, Miss.”
Elsa’s chest tightened upon the order disguised as a request. It felt seemingly impossible to comply, with her arms refusing to release the motionless embodiment of a shattered future that involved glimpses of a warm green-eyed gaze.
But when she mumbled hoarsely, commanded, that she had to go with him, she needed to go with him, the director didn’t argue with her any further and took the dazed child’s hand and escorted her to the Benz waiting for them.
She hopped in.
The synthetical scent of emergency kits and gauzes clouded her senses as she had to watch them place an oxygen mask above his mouth—to make sure that he’ll make it, that the puddle of blood earlier meant nothing, that he is going to eventually come back to her and fulfill the future she cannot get off her chest—because it included him.
She felt like running after oblivion. They have already wheeled him through the emergency department yet he wasn’t even moving a muscle. It tore her heart apart.
The vibration coming from her pockets stopped when she answered to Heine, that yes, she’ll be right back home where she had to face another battle this time, by herself.
Taking one last glance at the crowd clad in surgical blues and white, she left.
I love you, too.
To be continued
on the next chapter...