Page 14 of Shelter
And then I heard Mr. Whitehurst’s retreating steps all the way down the hall. The sound of the downstairs bedroom door clicking closed made my arms and legs go weak, and if I hadn’t already been on the ground, I might have crumpled.
Afraid to move, I waited to hear Cole’s footfalls disappear upstairs, but I didn’t. Instead, I heard him breathing. But, in truth, it didn’t really sound like breathing. It sounded more like gulping. Choking.
My stomach clenched when I realized Cole Whitehurst wascrying.
I had no idea what to do. Offering to help him would be the right thing, but Cole would never forgive me for seeing him like this. I grabbed the lost napkin and crawled backward, trying not to make a sound.
Finally out from under the dining table, I pushed myself up, smoothed down my dress, and straightened to find Cole standing not two feet from me.
His lip was split and bleeding, his eyes red and his lashes wet. He was baring his teeth at the sight of me.
“Were you spying?” He spoke low and near silent between his clenched teeth.
I quickly shook my head. “No, I swear.” I held up the napkin in my defense. “I came for this.”
Cole narrowed his eyes at the pathetic excuse in my hand before snapping his gaze back to mine. “But you heard all that.” A flash of defeat crossed his face before he clenched his jaw again. “Don’t lie.”
The lie I’d been ready to tell stuck in my throat, so I nodded.
He glanced away, scowling, and I watched his chest rise and fall before he looked over my shoulder and then back at me. “Do you think Flora heard?”
I found my voice. “No, no.” I wasn’t a hundred-percent sure she hadn’t heard something, but, for reasons I couldn’t yet understand, I was a hundred-percent sure I hoped she hadn’t.
“You can’t tell her,” he told me, though I already knew this. “You can’t tell anyone.”
I met his gaze with a firm one of my own. “I won’t.” But then I looked at his lip and the front of his shirt. “But you’ve got blood on your shirt. She’ll see that if we don’t get it cleaned up now.”
He looked down at the two slanted streaks of blood on his dress shirt and frowned. “How do I get it out?”
An idea came to me, and I grabbed Cole’s elbow and gave it a squeeze. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
His eyes followed the movement of my hand, and his frown held at the sight of me touching him. I let go, and his glare moved to my face. He eyed me as if I’d just licked his elbow instead of grabbing it.
“I’ll be right back,” I repeated, walking backward before turning and sprinting for the kitchen. I found Mama at the sink, filling the mop bucket. Even though it was late, she always mopped the kitchen floor at the end of the day, cleaning up after herself.
“Found it,” I announced, waving the napkin so she wouldn’t look too closely at me and see how rattled I was. I darted to the washing machine, which still stood open, and dropped the napkin inside. I closed the lid and started the cycle before rushing back into the kitchen.
“There’s a red wine stain on the rug in the living room,” I lied, approaching Mama at the sink and opening the cabinet at her knees. I grabbed one of Mama’s cleaning cloths, the bottle of vinegar, and the box of baking soda. “I’ll get it.”
I straightened up to see Mama’s worried frown. “A stain?” She grimaced.
I shook my head. “It’s just a tiny one. I noticed it when I was on my knees looking for the napkin.” My steady voice surprised me. I’d lied to Mama before, of course, but I’d never been very good at it. Maybe I was getting better. “You’re almost done in here. I’ve got it.”
Mama watched me for a second, and then her grimace smoothed out into a sly smile. “I see you’re trying to make amends,” she said, raising a brow at me. “I appreciate that, Elise.”
I could only give her a weak smile.
She tilted her chin and arched her brow higher. “Of course, I hope you know you’re still in trouble.”
I nodded rapidly, keenly aware that I’d be in even more trouble if she knew I was lying to her. I was also aware of Cole listening from the other room.
“I know, Mama.”
She nodded. “Okay. Use the vinegar first. And dab. Don’t smear,” she instructed. “And don’t use too much baking soda, but if some won’t come up, I’ll get the vacuum out tomorrow.”
I nodded again. “Yes, ma’am, I know.” I started to retreat toward the dining room.
“Oh, and, Elise, don’t come back through the kitchen. Go out the side door and just bring those things back to the guesthouse with you,” she said. “I don’t want you to walk over my floor.”
