Saving Ella (5 page)

              Only I would have the shit-house luck to step off a bus and into a full blown blizzard. But I’d take the freezing, icy snowstorm over Marcus any day. How I ended up in Claymont at the base of the Black Ridge Mountains I have no idea. I was supposed to be on my way to the ocean. For four long tiring years I had been making my way in that direction, the clear blue skies and golden sands of the ocean calling me forward. However this morning when I pulled out my small wad of cash and looked up at the glittering lights of the departures board at the bus depot, something drew me to Claymont. Rita had mentioned the town Claymont to me a couple of months ago, she had a friend there who owned a florist. The fact that the town now started down at me, taunting me, daring me was surprising. Call me superstitious, but I always listened to my gut. So, here I was in the freezing snow with no idea where the closest hotel was, I was hungry, cold and beginning to feel a whole lot sorry for myself which just made me angry. I didn’t need anyone’s pity least of all my own. Mind you, even if I did somehow stumble across a hotel, I didn’t really have enough money for a room, but it wasn’t the first time I had arrived somewhere without money and a roof over my head. Somehow I always ended up okay. I had only had to sleep on the streets a handful of times over the years and I hated it, but never enough to face the wrath of returning to Marcus. I always tried to make sure I could swindle my way into some sort of shelter, even if it was a hospital. Yes, I was guilty of faking an illness just to spend a night in the warmth and safety of a hospital. I hated the cold, I hated being homeless, I hated the fucker who put me in this position so much the thought of him burned like acid in my chest. As I had stumbled along the street feeling miserable and sorry for myself, heading toward what I hoped was the city I had slipped on the slick ice of the sidewalk and fell in a graceless heap on my ass. As I cursed my pathetic luck a tall figure appeared before me. Instinct kicked in and I quickly climbed to my feet, fists clenched, walls of resolve hastily erected as I faced the threat.

The towering hulk of
a man before me was enormous; he had to be six foot five, maybe more. His shoulders and chest were wide and nicely displayed in a hugging long sleeved shirt. Nicely displayed? Why the hell was I observing my threats hotness rather than gearing up to kick him hard in the balls? For some reason my eyes had developed their own mind and continued to peruse the fine form before me. His long legs were hidden behind well-worn denim. His hair was blonde, that golden sandy blonde that looked like it needed a wash and it hung in his eyes in an almost rebellious style that screamed I-don’t-give-a-fuck. And those eyes, so grey they were almost silver. A tiny smile pulled at one side of his lips in a playful manner. The look screamed bad boy, run, escape, but the gentle concern in his eyes drew me forward. He held his hands up, a gesture of surrender, peace and he told me the open door behind him led to a shelter. I read the large sign over the door and couldn’t believe my luck, I had literally slipped across the doorway of a shelter. He joked about being the only male in a shelter full of women, he arrogantly grinned at how he enjoyed being fussed over by the ladies and I found myself smiling too. I followed him inside with my defenses alert, my fists still clenched ready to fight if necessary. I knew I wouldn’t need to though, this strangers eyes were honest and kind.

“My name is Jax
Carter. This is Mercy’s shelter and I help run the place. There is no reason for you to be afraid here.” Jax, his name rolled through my mind like honey. He turned, expecting me to follow and while my mind said no my feet said fuck off and caught up to the giant man as he strolled with casual ease through the doorway and into a big warm room. Damn he was tall. Marcus had been a big man, but Jax was bigger. And for some reason, even though his overwhelming presence was frightening, I also felt curiously safe. Safe like I had not felt in a very long time. 

             
“Do you have a name?” He asked over his shoulder. I had gone by many names over the years. Kylie, Jemmah, Melanie, but something made me
want
to tell this stranger the truth. I had no idea why. Perhaps my brain had frozen somewhere between the bus depot and the shelter. He glanced over his shoulder again, most likely to see if I would answer. His lop sided grin sent my heart into some crazy aerobatic somersault.

             
“Ella,” I mumbled. His smile widened and small dimples made those roguish good looks more boyish, more innocent, younger somehow.

             
“That’s a pretty name.” He turned back to lead me through the shelter. Pretty! Ahhh geez. Well if he didn’t blow my senses to hell with his cheeky grin and gentle eyes, the compliment sure as hell did it. I forced myself to look away and take in my surroundings. As far as shelters went, this was by far one of the nicest I’d been in, but also one of the smallest. I wondered if they had room for me. A few curious gazes watched me though not for long. As soon as my eyes met theirs they looked away, normal for places like this. Everyone was running from something or someone. Nobody wanted to give away their miserable stories with the honest truth behind their eyes. A middle aged woman with curly brown hair pulled into a messy pony tail nodded at Jax. I couldn’t pick her age, maybe fifty, sixty at most? Her eyes were full of understanding like she knew the truth and maybe she did. She looked tired and beat and I didn’t doubt that she had her own demon and nightmares. She seemed as tired as I felt but her smile was warm and friendly. She showed no sign of pity. I appreciated that, I hated pity, didn’t need it or want it. Only moments ago I had been filled with so much pity for myself I could have drowned an entire city in it. She was placing a plate of food onto the lap of a young girl who looked to be around twelve. The little girl glanced my way and I saw it. The shattered innocence and despair. God I hated that I could spot it so easily. If I hadn’t of lived this life I might have been able to be comfortably oblivious to such hopelessness. Would I though? Could I ignore these people, these places? People who hadn’t spent time on the streets, who didn’t struggle, they didn’t truly understand and most of them had no trouble turning their heads and looking the other way. I would like to think I wouldn’t be so callous, but maybe, if my life had been different, if my dad hadn’t of died I would be one of those people who was blissfully ignorant of such a tragic existence.

“
Hope you left some for me Sam,” Jax said playfully. The little girl attempted a smile but it did not reach her eyes. Suddenly her plate of food became the most interesting thing in the room.

             
“Who do we have here?” The woman asked, her voice rough and husky.

             
“Beth, Ella, Ella, Beth.” Her smile grew bigger.

             
“Nice to meet you Ella. You look like you could use a warm shower.” I was shivering uncontrollably, my teeth almost clicking together, my fingers and toes felt numb.

             
“Jax, you remember it’s a full house tonight?” She turned her attention to Jax, though her kind smile remained firmly in place.

             
“How can I forget when you keep reminding me?” Jax continued to move through the room, waving me on. “Come on angel, let me show you where you can wash up. I’ll go prepare you a plate of food while you get warm.” First pretty, now angel? The sentiments made my heart do silly things. Hold up, full house? That meant no beds.

“I don’t need a bed. If
I could just wait out the storm I’ll go find somewhere else to stay as soon as it’s passed.” Jax shook his head as he led me around the rows of tidy beds and to a doorway at the back of the room.

“It won’t be a problem Ella. Have a shower, warm up. I
’ll get you something to eat. I’ll drag my bed up out of the basement for you and I’ll bunk down on the couch in Mercy’s office for the night.” He handed me a big fluffy towel, it was soft and smelt wonderfully clean. Yep, this was officially the best shelter I had ever stepped foot in.

“I
don’t want you to go to any trouble I can sleep on a couch. I’m smaller than you so I’m sure I’ll be more comfortable on a couch.” I argued while discreetly inhaling the scent of the fresh towel. Jax grinned.

“It wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to allow a lady to sleep on the couch while I snuggled in a nice warm bed and I am quite the gentleman around here so don’t bother arguing.”

“I’ll be out of your hair first thing tomorrow,” I said.

“We don’t usually have a full house. There are a few regulars out there who only come when they need a break from home. There will be at least two empty beds
by tomorrow night. You can stay as long as you need.” Suddenly I felt uncomfortable. Never before had it bothered me to bunk down for a few nights sometimes even a few weeks in a shelter. It beat sleeping in doorways and stairwells, but standing here before this beautiful man who obviously had a home, most likely a wife with the standard 2.5 kids, dog, the whole cozy deal, I suddenly felt like the failure Marcus had assured me I was. I clenched down my jaw hard, pressing away the tears, the weak and pathetic tears that always came at the most inappropriate times. Like when Rita, BJ and Larry had come to my rescue all those years ago. Even now when I put in my regular ‘I’m okay’ phone call to Rita, her kindness and concern still brought tears to my eyes. Give me anger and violence and not a drop would fall, but kindness got me blubbering within seconds. I couldn’t say anything, so I simply nodded.

“Door lock
s from the inside, so don’t worry about anyone walking in on you. There are three showers in the shelter, but this one is the largest. Have you got dry clothes in there?” He nodded to my backpack.

“Yes
,” I growled, the looming sorrow disappearing with irritation. I knew I sounded like an ungrateful brat, after all Jax was only trying to help me, but it pissed me off that he thought I was so inept I couldn’t even scrounge together dry clothes.

“Soap,” he tried to hand me a clean wrapped cake of soap and I shook my head.

             
“I h-have my own s-soap.” Damn, between the shivering, the effort it took not to cry and being pissed off, I could barely talk.

             
“Well go get cleaned up. When you’re done I’ll be in the kitchen. Just go through the doorway on the other side of the room, turn right and follow the corridor. Kitchen is at the very end. You can’t miss it, it smells amazing.” I simply nodded as Jax strolled away and I backed into the large cubicle behind me, locking the door. It was simple, nothing fancy but again clean. It smelt a little like detergent and bleach. Dumping my bag on the small counter I quickly shed my wet clothes and got under the steaming hot spray. My fingers and toes stung from the sudden rise in temperature. It was a delicious pain, a biting warmth and reminder that I was alive.
Suck shit Marcus, Mister I can find a needle in a haystack if I so wish
. I smiled at the thought of Marcus’s departing words.
Didn’t find me though did you asshole
? Once the stinging pain had seeped from my extremities, I dug out my bottle of coconut body wash. I always carried my own toiletries. Living in shelters and share accommodation had taught me that no matter how low on cash I was, I had to have those luxuries. I quickly and efficiently washed. I never lingered under the hot spray of water that wasn’t my own, there were always others who needed that hot water too. I also had no desire to see or feel the scars that covered my arms. They reminded me of my own weakness and just how low I had let my life sink. And the deep ugly scars on my wrists, I hated them most. They reminded me of Marcus, just as he said they would. They were ugly and made me feel ugly. What would a man like Jax think seeing those scars? I bet his beautiful wife had no scars.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself Ella
.
You’re alive and you escaped. You’re better off than most.
I didn’t have another jacket. Only long sleeved shirts and a couple of jumpers. But it seemed warm in the shelter and my jacket would be dry enough to wear come morning. I left my hair out, as always, to cover the scar by my eye. I collected up my damp clothes and grabbed my backpack heading off to find the kitchen. Hopefully there was somewhere I could hang my wet clothes.

             
“Hi,” came a little voice from beside me as I stepped out of the shower. He was a little brown haired blue eyed bundle of joy and innocence and as cute as a button. There was no stopping the smile that he brought to my face.

             
“Hi yourself.”             

             
“What were you doing out in the storm?”

             
“Oh, I only just got into town. I didn’t realize there was going to be a storm.” He nodded thoughtfully.

             
“Did your mom and dad bring you?” Such an innocent question and it made my smile drop slightly.

             
“No, I caught a bus. Have you ridden on a bus before?” I easily deflected the conversation away from family. His eyes widened.

             
“Sure, I went on a bus to school once.” My smile was back in place.  “I’m Eli.” His little hand outstretched mimicking the manners of an adult and I politely shook it.

              “It’ nice to meet you Eli, my name’s Ella.” His blue eyes lit up.