With other women, I hadn’t felt anything more than an itch I’d needed to scratch. But, with Ella, our bond is so much stronger and meaningful.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the library,” I mutter, peeling my hand from her side.
Before she can respond, the gates at the end of the long driveway open with a loud groan, as if the metal is grinding together. A car comes flying up toward the house, the headlights illuminating the dark path. Ella stills at my side, and the life drains from her face.
I hook my arm around Ella’s back and bring her into my chest. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry for what is about to happen,” she chokes out.
With the dark tint on the windows, I have trouble making out the passengers inside the car. Music cranks through the speakers of the Mercedes, and a pop beat fills the silent air.
“Why are you sorry? I won’t let whoever is in the car hurt you.”
“You can’t protect me from them, Shawn. I wish you could but…” Her voice trails off once the driver and passenger doors fling open.
Whoever has Ella so afraid causes her to tremble, her fear shaking through me. I have nerves of steel, not the least bit phased by the threat. I prepare myself for the worst-case scenario until two girls get out the car and slam the doors shut. They walk side-by-side, chatting about a boy and completely unaware we are standing on the porch, listening to every word.
Even in the darkness, despite their faces not yet visible, their voices sound familiar. Once they come out from the shadows and into the light that shines through the front door, I get a good look at them. Natasha and Anastasia Rivers stop dead in their tracks and stare up at Ella and me.
What the hell are they doing at Ella’s house? Now, I’m even more confused than I was before.
“Finch,” Anastasia says, throwing her dark hair over her shoulder. “Is that you?”
“Oh my God, what are you doing here?” Natasha adds. “How did you know where we lived?”
My mouth widens in shock when I realize they are Ella’s stepsisters who live to torture her. Not that I liked either of them before, but knowing they are responsible for so much of Ella’s pain causes a rush of anger to flood through my veins. While Ella looks as though she wants to jump out of her skin, I am fuming and dying to say something to the girls on her behalf. But I know she would not want my help. She would want me to keep my mouth shut out of fear it would only make her situation worse.
The sisters have a quick conversation amongst themselves where they ask each other if one of their sorority sisters had given out their address. Their discussion lasts a few seconds, before their focus shifts back to me. I get a quick smile from them, but once their eyes land on Ella, their mouths twist in disgust.
Anastasia stands up straight and fixes the bag on her shoulder, ignoring Ella. “You came all the way over here to see us, Finch. That’s too sweet.”
Without hesitation, I say, “I’ didn’t come here to see you.”
She turns to look at her sister. “So, you’re here for Natasha?”
“No,” I correct, “I’m here with Ella, your other sister.”
They both scowl at the same time, but it’s Natasha who speaks first. “Puh-lease, she is not our sister. Gross. How dare you call her that?”
“The feeling is mutual,” Ella blurts out, pushing her hands onto her hips. A minute ago, she looked terrified, but now, she’s bold, more like the girl I have come to know over the past week.
“No, seriously, what are you doing here?” Anastasia says, her tone demanding an answer.
These girls are bullies dressed in designer clothes with too much makeup caked on their faces.
“I brought Ella home. Do you have a problem with it?”
Anastasia gives me a look of death, while Natasha huffs, blowing a chunk of dark hair in front of her face. It’s obvious they want to say something. Instead, they hook onto each other and blow past us and into the house.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Ella.
“You didn’t do anything but stand up to them for me.”
“Yeah, but by doing so, they will give you hell when I’m gone. I didn’t mean to interfere.”
Ella closes the distance between us and slips her fingers beneath my jacket, warming my skin with her touch. “Thank you, Shawn. I appreciate you defending me. Some days, they are like tyrants. It’s frustrating always having to deal with them alone. If you didn’t speak up, they probably would have stood out here and embarrassed me until you left.”
“There’s nothing they could say about you that I wouldn’t like.” I smile, holding her gaze, and take her face in my hand. “So far, I like everything about you, Ella Fitzgerald.”