+ LOVING ELIJAH MCCAY +
VOL. 1: CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

     I was lost. I'd tried to find my way around the unfamiliar neighborhood multiple times. But it was no use. I was standing in the middle of a forbidden street with a sign that was by now smudged by—well, I have no idea what what it was smudged by but I could not for the life of me read what street I was on.

     I'd stopped trying to figure it out when my cellphones battery finally drained, due to me trying to map myself back to my house. Which does not work when you don't know your current address. I walked past a pizza joint, a sandwich shop, and a shoe store before finally coming across a lonesome bar.

     Raising my brows in slight apprehension, I shoved my cell back into the front pocket of my sweatpants, pulling the hood of my sweater back over my head. My plan was to tiptoe into the bar, and not say a single word to anyone there, then quietly sneak up to whoever was tending the bar, and ask them if they had a phone I could borrow.

     The plan seemed solid enough—if I just happened to not get kicked out when someone eventually realized that I was under age.

     I stalked over to the bulky front door that had the words bar in bright, bright red letter printed above it. I grasped onto the door handle and pulled, coming face-to-face with a quiet bar that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in months.

     And the smell was so—tangy. I tried not to let those minor hiccups bother me as I made my way into the bar, watching as curious eyes followed me as I made my way over to the bar. I slid into a stool, keeping my eyes down until the bartender bothered to look my way.

They'd been tending to a burly man with a large jacket surrounding his shoulders. But thankfully, he didn't seem to care that I was occupying the space beside him.

In the middle of making drinks, the bartender turns to me, his eyes narrowing in on my face that I was so desperately trying to keep hidden behind my hoodie. He sets down the short glass and crosses both arms across his broad chest, leaning down so that we're eye-to-eye.

Finally, to avoid any further awkwardness, I lift my eyesight to meet his, my cheeks instantly flaming red. He catches wind of this, coming in closer. "Can I help you with something?"

He startles me with the sudden question, my bottom almost slipping off of the stool. He chuckles at this. And it's in this moment that I finally have enough nerve to openly read his name tag. Joe, it reads.

"Y-Yes, I was wondering if you had a phone I could use?" I ask quietly, reaching into my pocket to grab my cellphone, signaling to it. "Mines dead and I uh—I really need to call someone for a ride."

Joe, the so-called bartender scoffs, and returns to tending to his previous customers drinks. "Really? Stick around, have some fun. You look like you could really use it."

I laugh uncomfortably, choosing to ignore this mans obvious dig at my appearance. "No, thank you, sir. I just um, I just really need a phone," My words are short, hopefully letting him know that I'm uncomfortable. And he definitely isn't making me feel any better about it. "If you have one."

Still, he doesn't seem to take the hint, finishing off the remaining drinks and sliding them toward their respective customers. "Come on. I bet if you just ordered yourself a drink, found someone to drown yourself in—you'd have a good fucking time."

"No. All I need is a phone—" He's interrupted.

"Gage? Gage Ciletti?" My words pause, as I turn ever so slowly, shock being written all over my features. My lips hang open ajar, the hoodie once dumped over my head, slowly falling onto my sunken shoulders.

I raise a hand to wave politely, "H-Hey."

Kim, Rick's up and coming stepmother is standing there, short jean shorts and all, a smile so big and gracious that it brightens my already sucky day. She makes her way into the stool beside me, whatever box she'd been holding in her hands set onto the counter before her.

She raises a brow, brown eyes searching mine. "So, what are you doing in a bar?"

I try and rack my brain for any lie I could conjure up but with her seeming so genuine and interested, I can't find the heart to. "I was walking alone and I got kind of lost so I came in here to see if there was a phone I could use."

The words spill out of me like a bulldozer as she kindly reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her cellphone. "Well here, baby," she slides it over toward me, "you can use mine."

I allow a grateful smile to grace my lips as I reach out and retrieve it, a little hesitant to dial up a person I knew that I'd have to eventually. My mother.

Kim seems to notice this and taps my arm, redirecting my attention back to her. "Or, I can just give you a ride home. I was on my way back to Richard's anyway. You live nearby, right?"

I shake my head violently. I lived nowhere near Rick and his father. They lived in a generous six-bedroom home near the city, whereas I lived near our school way deep in mediocre suburbia. "Oh, alright, well just tell me the address and I'll type it into the GPS."

She stands from the stool, and I offer to help carry her large and overflowing cardboard box out into her car. She accepts and thanks me. I slide the box into her backseat, wondering into the deep depths of my mind why her car seemed to be a little run down, even while engaged to a multi-millionaire.

Buckling myself into the passenger seat, I send her a grateful glance. As we pass dead-ends and empty streets I begin to see the bright lights of Chicago come closer and closer into view—and I know that I'm almost home.

As we're stuck at a red light, the car begins to shake a bit, heat radiating off of the radio. Kim turns to me, a brow quirked. "You're wondering why I drive such a shitty car when my fiancé's a multi-millionaire, aren't you?"

My cheeks flame into color, "n-no, of course of not—"

She laughs, interrupting my rambling. "It's okay. I mean if I weren't me, I would be wondering the same damn thing."

"No, I actually really like your car . . ."

Kim chuckles some more, the car jolting to a start when the light becomes green again. "You don't have to lie—it's a piece of shit, though I risk us being stranded on the side of the road for saying so." I send her a look at this.

My curiosity gets the of me as I turn my torso toward her, eyes adjusting to the newfound darkness in the car. "Um, you know just asking—and I swear I don't mean any disrespect by it. But, why do you drive this car? I mean not that I think you're with Mr. Kensington for his money or whatever. I'm sure you're attracted to him, he's a really attractive guy—not that I'm attracted to him or anything . . . oh my gosh, I'm sorry—"

I slam my lips shut, dropping my head onto my lap after bringing my knees into my chest. The overwhelming embarrassment once hurried into my stomach was now bubbling out into my pores causing my cheeks to redden more and more by the second.

I hadn't meant to babble on about anything. But sometimes, once I got talking to someone I wasn't entirely comfortable around, there was no stopping the rambling. Not that I had intended it be that way.

"Well, to answer your question; I drive this car because Richard is so well off," I frown, more than a little confused by her words. "When he and I first started going out he thought that the only way to prove how he felt about me, was to buy me things. Which now, I understand has a little to do with Alaric, and their inability to communicate with each other.

"So, I made him promise to never buy me anything that felt like an obligation. Because yes, this car is a piece of shit—but I'd never want him to feel obligated to buy me another just because he could, you know?" I nod, completely understanding where she was coming from.

"Richard is the love of my life. And I know that not many people will understand that because of the age difference and the superiority difference. But it's the truth.

"And also," we've stopped at another red light and I'm all ears to whatever else she needs to get off of her chest. "I'm sorry if us having to move has upset you. Alaric reminds me everyday that Richard and I are quote on quote ruining his life so I'm sorry if you feel the same way, Gage. I really am. I love the both of them more than I've ever loved anything else in this entire world and I just want what's best for our family." She sends me a comforting grin at the end of her words, reaching out to give me a pat on the shoulder.

I smile back, "you don't have to explain yourself to me. I know that you and Mr. Kensington are just trying to do what you need to gain some stability, some happiness. And I know it'll be worth it."

After the long drive, Kim drops me off at home, but not before leaving me with some parting words and an official invite to the wedding taking place exactly a year and a half from now. I laugh at her overestimation of wedding planning, and take the invitation.

Then, she drives off.