Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Romance

Ella's POV

Sergeant Whit gestured to the chair across the table, "Let's talk."

I inhaled slowly, feeling uncomfortable being alone with Sergeant Whit. I ran a hand through my thick hair and sat down across from him, staring at the old wooden table. He leaned toward, "Ella, you don't have to share anything you don't want to."

I n3 up at him, "Gabe, I just--a lot has happened."

"Your arm," he glanced down at my forearm, which I pulled into my lap. "looked really badly hurt. Why did you do that to yourself?"

I shut my eyes, not wanting to think about what happened five years ago, "You don't need to worry about me. It was a long time ago."

He nodded his head, "I understand, but you should know that I'll worry about you. Even if it's some small, minor inconvenience, I will worry. When it's something that caused you to hurt yourself, I will tear whatever hurt you apart." He reached across the table to hold my smaller hand in his larger hand. "I care about you a lot, Ella. Please understand that."

I felt that familiar sting behind my eyes as I held my tears back. I took a shaky breath and wiped my tears away, "Gabe, I-I was raped. Five years ago."

He stared at me, shocked, and squeezed my hand, as if to say, "I'm here, it's okay." 

I choked back a sob, having a flashback. I was openly crying now, and between cries, I told him what had happened. "I-I was so stupid. I just--I was on a date with this guy, J-Jeremy, and we were d-drinking. I went to the b-bathroom and he--" I sobbed again, and he had moved around the table and was now on one knee, in front of me, holding each of my hands. He was comforting, his hazel eyes oozing with sympathy. 

He wiped my tears with his thumb and looked up at me, concern clouding his face, "You don't have to talk about it. It's okay." He rested his hand against my face, gently caressing it. He buried my face into his shoulder, stroking my hair. "You're okay now."

~oOo~

I don't know when I stopped crying, but he stayed with me the entire time. The two of us ended up heading out to watch the stars. We sat on the familiar rock from the first night I was here and I listened while he pointed out the constellations to me. I smiled a small smile, and, without thinking, I placed my hand in his.

He looked at me, his hazel eyes locked on mine. He moved his hand to my cheek, still looking me deep in the eyes, "Ella, forgive me."

He leaned in and pressed his warm lips against mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. It was a soft and gentle kiss, filled with romance. I could feel what he was expressing: his affection for me, his joy to be reunited, how much he missed me, that he wanted to be with me.

Suddenly, it was too much, and I pulled away. He looked at me, leaned in for another kiss, but stopped when I placed my hand on his shoulder, shopping him from coming any closer. "I...I really can't do this." 

I got up, and left a confused man sitting on a rock, all alone.

~oOo~

The next morning, Whitney and I watched the shirtless men running again. Each time the men passed us, they would flex their arms or wink, and some even cat called. Whitney and I would flush bright red and giggle to ourselves, cheering them on. This morning, Madeline had joined us. She kept muttering, "This is wrong, I have a fiancé...but this is so good!"

"You said it, sister," Whitney murmured before addressing me. "Aren't you scared that Sergeant Whit will call you a pervert again?"

"If being a pervert means I get to watch this," I dreamily eyed the men, my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. "I will gladly tattoo "I am a pervert" on my forehead."

"Oh, good," grinned Sergeant Whit as he approached the three of us with Keith and Brandon. "There's an underground tattoo parlor near here."

I froze immediately, not willing to turn around. If I don't move, maybe he'll forget I'm here. I thought to myself. That was a perfectly reasonable conclusion, and I silently applauded myself, while keeping still.

"Did she not hear me? Is she distracted by the man por--"

Brandon threw his hands over Whitney's eyes, "It's okay! I will not let these shirtless barbarians soil your innocence!"

Whitney angrily grabbed his hands and tried to pry them away from her eyes, "Why are you touching me, you idiot?"

Brandon got this look in his eye that I had never seen before, it was mischevious and a little sly. He removed his hands and spun her around so that Whitney was directly in front of him. He quickly leaned down and kissed her.

Madeline and I stared, our stomachs turning in fear for Brandon. As soon as Brandon backed away from Whitney, we saw that her cheeks were a bright red. She touched her lips with her fingertips before realizing what had happened. "Brandon Scott," she growled. "I will murder you."

"Run, Dr. Scott!" called Sergeant Whit, the laughter evident in his voice.

Brandon turned and took off running, Whitney at his heels, screaming, "I know where you sleep, you rotten pineapple!"

"He did have a good technique," Sergeant Whit started, placing his left hand over my eyes, his other hand on his utility belt. "didn't he, El--hey! Come back!"

I had run off in the opposite direction, going as fast as my short legs could take me.

Sergeant Whit chuckled, watching me, his hands on his utility belt, "Isn't she cute?" he asked Keith, who glared at him.

"She is," Keith agreed. He turned to Sergeant Whit. "You also have no business hanging around her."

The Sergeant smiled and nodded his head, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you and her have no chance in the real world. So let Nurse Anderson and I--"

"I'm not giving Ella up."