Free Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel by R. L. Griffin Page B

Patrick whispered.
    Millie gulped her drink and Billy’s mouth hung open in disbelief. None of them had seen the extent of El’s injuries. They were all in shock.
    “Well, fuck. If I’d know this would keep y’all quiet, I would’ve done it thirty minutes ago,” El said lightly.
    Billy cleared his throat. “Your tattoo looks sick now. There’s a for real bullet hole in it.”
    “So I’ve been told.”
    “I didn’t know you had all those scars,” Millie said quietly.
    “Yep, pretty ugly, huh?”
    “Nothing on you is ugly, El,” Patrick answered quickly, and Millie’s eyes snapped to him.
    “I think you’ve been watching too many tabloids, Patrick. Those pictures were me before I almost died, leaving me scarred and broken, but thanks for trying to boost my ego.”
    Millie pulled her hand away from Patrick’s and poured herself another drink. FUCK.
    Billy laughed. “You know, I really like the bikini picture the media has started running every time they talk about you.”
    “Oh, you like my nineteen-year-old self?” El teased.
    “Way better.” He shoveled Frito Pie in his mouth, then gestured to her with his fork. “Now you’re old and all scarred and shit.”
    Patrick kicked Billy under the table. He couldn’t believe Billy just said that.
    El burst into her real laugh, the one he loved. It was so obnoxious that Millie and Patrick joined in. El snorted, which sent Billy into hysterics.
    They talked for another hour and then all moved into the den. El sat on the couch next to Billy, letting him prop her up. After a few minutes, she stood up and announced she better go home.
    “I’ll walk you,” Patrick offered, following her.
    “No, thanks, Patrick. I’m okay,” El rebutted as she opened the door.
    “Then I’ll follow you.” He wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was going to make sure she got home safe, even if it was from a distance.
    “Patrick, I said no.” El walked down the stairs.
    Patrick followed her out the door. “I don’t care.”
    “Like usual, right?”
    Millie was behind him, listening to them. “El, you may want him to go with you because of the media. Are there paparazzi outside George’s house? Patrick may be able to help.”
    El’s shoulders slumped a little.
    “She’s right, El,” he whispered. “Let me do this.”
    “I don’t want anything from you.” Her words were void of any fight.
    He waved at Millie. “I’ll be back,” he offered and hurried after her. “I know,” he said, responding to her earlier statement. It killed him to think about that fact, but it was clearly how she felt. He walked next to her in silence, trying not to touch her. It was so difficult for him he fell back and just followed her for the rest of the walk.
    When they reached George’s street, he grabbed her hand. “Are you ever going to forgive me?” he asked desperately.
    “I don’t think so.”
    His shoulders fell; he took a deep breath and released her hand. “Really?”
    She’d lived through this horrific situation, but now he was going to have to live without her anyway. He didn’t know if he could handle their revolving around each other and her not forgiving him, not needing him.
    “I’ve been thinking about it and I just don’t think I can, Patrick.” She stopped walking and stood facing him, her face pinched in regret. “In some ways, I feel more betrayed by you than by him.”
    This he couldn’t take. He couldn’t believe she was comparing him to Jamie. That motherfucker. “El, don’t you remember any of the good times we had?” His voice was low. “You mean a lot to me.”
    “Patrick, all those good times seem like a lie to me now. I can’t separate them from all the lies you told. You broke the only thing that I had left, trust. I can’t trust anyone now because of you.” She started walking again, and he followed her.
    He hadn’t done that, had he? She was blaming him for that?
    “Fuck, El. Please forgive me,” he begged. “Let me make it