Colors of Paris ◇ Elijah Stevenson

Chapter Seventeen

"What is this?" Elijah has his finger traced alongside my hip and he stops near an area above my pelvis bone. He is behind me and when he does this I turn to him slightly.

He smiles and nods, "yes I want to know," he answers to me as I gave him that look of wonder.

"I fell out of a tree when I grew up and I guess the mark has never left," I reply to him. That's all it is. My life is probably boring compared to his. Compared to his, that little accident wasn't anything. He probably has scars on him that can be about anything.

I turn myself around and then try to view him. I instantly regrett it as he had taken his shirt off and his pants haven't been on for a while. I go to his face and study it. Right above his right eyebrow there is a small engraved spot that I never noticed until now.

"What about you and your scars? If you have any of course," I put my head on his chest and support my chin with my hands as I look up at him.

"My scars don't mean anything. They are battle scars I want to forget."

"Like this one?" I point to the eyebrow and he smirks a little. A small one that can indicate anything. Whether if he wants to talk about it or not because of it.

"Yeah. Like that one. I had gotten that a couple of years ago after a fighting match with a guy who has blown his brains out by now if had taken the road I tolld him not to."

Even if that remark was somewhat disturbing it makes me curious. Really curious...

"What about all of the other ones? Have you gotten them all because of things like that?"

He laughs, "no. I am pretty reckless with my body. I probably get a mark by doing something so small like playing with a match."

I go where his hands were which were to his aides now and hold them up to my face. His hands are cold and greased with markings. Alongside of these markings his hands have a black tint to them. I know he is a clean person so why are they like this?

"The work I sometimes have to do for people is ridiculous and strange. Nothing to question my pesky hands over," he takes that as an opportunity to put his hand on my cheek and caress it there.

"You are stunning," I murmur to him and add, "even passed all your scars and markings you hold something..."

Something much darker than the black tint.

"Get over here," he croaks out as if he is unsure of what is about to happen. He takes his hand away and I perk up enough so I could straddle his lap. He leans up too and I feel him underneath me.

I look at him in the eyes and try to hide what I want to say, what I want to feel, and most importantly what I want to do.

He kisses my collarbone and I lean my head to the side. I grab his hair in my hands.

He chuckles, "what would you like me to do, mads?" He whispers and with that I push him down and kiss him. He opens his mouth as answer too. His tongue meets mine and for a moment I feel as though this could be my ecstasy.

Everything about this guy could be my ecstasy.

Knock! Knock!

He stops and then I look at him as he looks over at the door. He pushes me aside and then looks over at me, "we have to go," he whispers small.

"Come on I'm sure it is the housekeeper or something," I assure him and then with a swift portion of moments he has his pants on and his shirt on. He gets his boots on in a hurry.

"At ten o'clock in the middle of the night?" He asks me as he grabs his bandana from the night stand and puts it on like he has in the past. "All of them have gone home by now and you know it."

"Who is it then?" I ask him silently.

He throws my shirt at me and he hands me my shoes, "no questions," he answers and then throws everything in a hurry, "come on," he adds as he goes to the window.

I look at him like he is crazy because by this point he has to be. Why would someone follow us here if they were done with us last night?

"I thought it was safe here..." I say and then look at him as he unlocks the window. He pushes it open and then pushes his right leg out.

He finally shifts his gaze over at me.

Knock! Knock! Then the shift of the lock is heard as the banging becomes louder.

I take his hand and pushes his other leg out. I look at what he is standing in and he is literally standing on the edge of the balcony they have. The hotel is a one floor but the drop is far to ground.

I stare intensely down and shake my head, "oh hell no."

"Come on," he takes both of my hands, "we have to go."

The banging becomes more violent as if the person is trying to break in, "Fred! You bastard told me it would be two hundred!"

I see Elijah roll his eyes, "I'm telling you either come with me or stay here and..." He shifts his head away.

I nod at him. I step over on the edge with his guide and then I hold onto the balcony's bars.

"Count of three. Drop and roll. If you drop down just flat you can break your legs, got it?"

I nod to him again.

"One."

"DAMN it Fred! I know you're in there!"

Elijah makes me look at him instead of the hotel room door.

"Two..."

"Three!" I yell and then drop down. I roll the best I can but when I hit the ground it is very hard. When I try to get up Elijah is already starting to run down the street.

I catch onto a bush and help myself up as I start shakily running after him.

We run down the street.

"What about the car?" I yell to him.

He glances over his shoulder since he is a little ahead of me still, "he knows what it looks like! It's easy to track that shit down! We need to relocate and start over fully! I know what to do!"

Is it going to be like this the whole time with him? Running and trying to live but not knowing if we will.

We hear a truck start behind us. Elijah grabs my hand and makes me run with him faster. We duck behind an alleyway since the truck follows us but we loose it when we get in a narrow street.

"Let's go after him!" One guy says as he hits the hood of the truck in anger.

"No. It's useless. Everything will catch up to him sometime. It always does," the man who I know was the guy at the door replies. I feel his look over here and I know he is looking at Elijah.

I catch my breath but Elijah throws me down underneath a car we were hiding behind,"what the hell?!" I yell at him.

"They don't know what you look like!" He yells down at me. When the truck disappears Elijah becks down to the ground. He looks over at me behind the car and purses his lips, "if this is going to work I guess I have to be truthful with you on what I am doing."

What gave him that idea...

Whatever happens I know now that black tint holds something even more darker than what I realized.