Game of Love (The Remingtons, Book One: Love in Bloom Series)

Chapter Twenty-Eight, Game of Love

Chapter Twenty-Eight

ELLIE SAT ON the edge of Dex's bed, trying to ward off the memories that being back in his room brought careening back. The fear of lying in the bed at her foster home, listening to the grunts and noises of that awful man pleasuring himself, irritated her skin like dozens of spiders crawling over her limbs. She fought against every muscle to remain motionless when her mind screamed, Get out! She'd seen her foster father in every shadow all those years ago—heard his voice in the wind.

The only thing that had pulled her through and carried her young legs down the dark and eerie roads so long ago had been Dex. Dex had always been there for her, silently supporting her, loving her when no one else would—or could. She rubbed her hand over his pillow. She'd been so mad at him when she'd realized where he was taking her, and it had been a goddamn struggle to make it up that hill and face the nightmare that she'd tried so hard to forget. But Dex hadn't forced her to do it. She'd felt his steely resolve, and his anger, fall away. He was trying to make them possible. And Ellie wanted them more than she wanted her next breath. She covered her ears and repeated the mantra that had pulled her through many dark moments. I'm okay. Just get through it. He can't hurt me anymore. He couldn't hurt her anymore. She chewed on that thought for a while. Yes, he could. Every time she backed away from Dex, every time she wanted to run, she was letting what he'd done hurt her. Well, fuck.

DEX'S VOICE TRAVELED down the stairs to the lower level, where Ellie was debating how to handle seeing his parents again. When they were younger, Dex had complained about his father's pushing things on him, demanding good grades, manly actions, and respect. What Dex couldn't have known was how much Ellie had craved a parent who would care enough to demand those things from her. Of course, not manly actions, but respect, good grades. Hell, she'd have tried her damnedest to meet those expectations as if she'd had a real father instead of a heroin addict she'd never known. She listened to their conversation as she ascended the stairs.

"I wish you would have told me, that's all," Dex said.

"And what good would that have done?"

Ellie stopped at the sound of his father's deep, intimidating voice. She held her breath as he continued.

"You were already out of your mind when she left, Dexter. I took care of it. I wasn't going to dump a load of hurt on a boy who was already down."

"I get that, but maybe I could have helped her in those months afterward. Maybe it would have helped us somehow four years ago." Dex paused, and Ellie held her breath. She could guess at what they were talking about. Obviously, his father must have had an idea about what had gone on with her foster father. Of course he did. Adults weren't blind, like teenagers.

She heard a chair scrape against the floor, then footsteps across the kitchen floor. "I did what I thought was right. You can question it, but it's not going to change the outcome. What's done is done, son. Now you have to deal with what happens next. And that is on your shoulders."

"Ellie?"

Ellie started at the sight of Joanie Remington beside her. "Um...hi."

"Sweetie, how lovely to see you again." She opened her arms and embraced Ellie.

Shoot me now. "Uh...Good to see you, too. I'm just...um..." Eavesdropping. "Sorry we showed up so late last night."

"Oh, don't be silly. Come. Let's get some breakfast."

Ellie followed her into the kitchen feeling like an intruder. Dex reached his hand out to her, and she breathed a little easier. Sort of. Still stupefied by the discomfort of being a couple in front of his parents, her eyes darted from his mother to his father.