Love, Art, and Murder – Mystery Romance - Page 34

“That’s Elle’s scent.” I inhaled the aroma some more and got into the shower.

Warm water caressed my skin. Bubbles and earthy soap lathered and washed away the spots of blood that had seeped through my shirt and pants. Yet, my whole mind concentrated on Elle’s smell. I closed my eyes and imagined another day, one that could never come. A moment far off in time where dead girls didn’t sprout up in gardens and a deranged woman didn’t sneak away with a paint brush during her scheduled art time and stab herself in the wrist, just to be free of life and all the mounting remorse inside her heart.

The fragrance of orange blossoms was so thick the sensual aroma seeped into my flesh and filled my chest.

I sank into lovely visions of Elle and journeyed to a starry night, in a distant land, where Elle stood before me naked, begging me to stroke my fingers through her hair and capture her mouth with mine.

Chapter 9

Elle

My dreams always began this way.

I ran fast, so fast my feet swelled with pain and my legs wobbled in exhaustion. Cold rain battered my face and dripped into my eyes.

Once I arrived at Michael’s house, I didn’t take the time to grab a rock and sling it at his window. I just climbed the tree and hoped I wouldn’t slip. The jagged bark dug into my skin. The bottom of my sneakers barely gripped the tree, but somehow I made it to the top in no time. As if he sensed me near, Michael appeared at the window and tugged it open. It was always that way. I never had to call or warn him I was coming, he just knew and welcomed me in.

“Did your dad hit you again?” Michael seized my hands and helped me balance as I climbed over the ledge and into his arms. “That bastard better not have hurt you.”

“H-he didn’t.” I battled with catching my breath. “B-but he came home drunk so I just left like you said I should.”

“Good.” He held me for a few minutes before letting me go. “My parents are gone tonight. If I’d known, I would’ve picked you up. I didn’t know until I got home and saw the letter on the table.”

“Where are they?”

“Another medical convention.” He shut the window. “Are you cold? Take off those wet clothes. I’ll get you a blanket.”

“No.” I wrenched my shirt up and yanked it over my head. “I don’t want anything except you next to me.”

I’d dampened his Spiderman shirt. A few raindrops spotted his dark blue boxers. He remained still, as if one wrong move would make me change my mind. It had happened before, we would start and I would stop us.

Tonight, I longed for him to be inside of me and could think of nothing else.

Whenever he touched me, my thoughts of Mom going off with some guy and my dad drunkenly trying to raise me all vanished. I needed that tonight, to get away and fly free as all the sadness sank below my floating body.

“Are you sure, Ellie?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea. You’re upset.”

“You don’t want me?” I stopped unbuttoning the top of my pants.

He seized my waist, and pressed his lips against mine. “I want you more than anything else.”

“Then show me.”

We undressed together, our hands brushing against skin as they pulled and towed away fabric. Falling onto his small bed, we kissed until our mouths puffed into swollen lips and our tongues tangled and slid wet paths between us. He kissed me everywhere and I shuddered with each flick of his tongue against forbidden places.

“Delilah, I love you,” he whispered into my ear.

I flinched. “What?”

“I love you, Delilah.”

“Why are you calling me that? Who’s Delilah?” I pushed him away and fell off the bed, but no floor met my body. I continued to fall through the air, my hair unraveled, rising high above my head.

“Fly!” Michael yelled from far up in his bed. “You’ve got to fly if you want to save yourself!”

“I can’t!” I screamed in horror, kicking my legs and flapping my hands to find something in the darkness to hold onto. Nothing existed but night and wind. “I can’t see! Help me!”

“You have no light!” Michael called back.

“Help!” Tears spilled from my eyes as I thrashed my legs in the air. “Help!”

“Fly!”

“I can’t.”

“Where are your wings?”

I woke up with a shriek, covered in sweat, gripping my pillow. A man barreled into my room and wielded a gun. I screamed again and dove to the floor.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” He put the gun down. The whole time he moved his head from side to side and checked the room. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard you scream and just wanted to make sure no one was in here or upsetting you.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Mystery
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