The Red Flag

Part LXVIII - "Reading Elijah"

"Where did we first meet each other?"

His eyes narrowed. And he began crossing his arms over his chest. He was locking himself up from the start. A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me this wasn't going to be an easy confrontation.

"In my office back when I was interviewing you for Charlotte's replacement."

It sounded as if the answer had been rehearsed redundantly in front of the mirror. It was cold and lacked sincerity.

My words were laced with doubt. "Are you sure? Try to think back a little further than that. Was it possibly at a bar or inside a nightclub, give or take, three years ago?"

He sagged his shoulders back. Catching Elijah off guard was a lot like catching a child in the middle of a punishable act. But, he fought against his honesty.

"Three years ago? I have no idea. You of all people know that my work is consuming. When would I have time to go to a nightclub?" He asked.

His questions were meant to corner me into doubting myself. I wasn't about to back down that easily.

"You don't work on the weekends, Dr. Broderick," I commented. "You end work at six every Friday."

"There aren't even any nightclubs in the area," he commented.

"You could have traveled out of town that day."

He turned his head away. "Highly unlikely."

I balled my hands into tight fists at my sides. My god, he was acting worse than a child. With every coming question he fired back with an indistinct answer.

I settled my eyes on him with heavy intent. I told myself I was getting the truth tonight. And it turned out that I was going to have to rip it out of him. One piece at a time.

My head was swimming in a haze. As soon as I opened my mouth a river of words flowed out. Not all of them belonged to me.

"Oh, on the contrary, I think it's very likely that a man like you would go to a nightclub. Hell, you took me to a bar after my first official day of working as your secretary. You're a man that goes for what he wants. And you don't care what it takes." I went on.

"What's a few hour drive to a nightclub in the middle of nowhere if it means going after what you want? So you arrive at the club and take a seat at the bar, knowing it's the best view of the room. You're sitting there for what feels like hours by yourself. Other women have come up to you over the course of that time. They offer to buy you a drink in order to strike up a conversation, but you couldn't be less interested. Because you're there for another purpose."

His voice spoke out in a warning. "Stop."

"Your eyes are tired of scanning the room. You begin to feel like you have failed in your search. But, suddenly amongst the crowds of people, you see her. Her body sways to the rhythm of the music booming throughout the room. Your eyes are transfixed on her movements. That's when you notice the guy she's dancing with. His arms wrapping around her waist and down her thighs. You're infuriated. So much so that you almost moved from your seat."

"Amelia."

He grew irritated as I pushed at his patience. I wanted him mad. Infuriated as much as I was. Because, that's when a person lets their guard down the most.

"But you didn't. You witnessed something that you thought you would never see from such an innocent looking girl." I leaned in close. "You saw rage."

I could still feel the rush of adrenaline pulsing through my veins when I think back to that time I was dancing. The way my body swayed to the beat. The music pumping through the speakers. The sensation of absolute freedom.  

"You saw her sink her nails into that guy's throat. She brought him to his knees with just one hand. All the while the girl knew she was being watched. Amongst all those people pressed around her, she could still feel the weight of your eyes."

I continued my saunter leisurely around the room. Elijah's expression, although blank, was on the verge of fuming. I could feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace. He was close to cracking. I could practically taste it. If he were to explode it would have meant that what I saw was indeed real. And, that I wasn't crazy.

"She makes her way off the dance floor. She scans the room for the one who's been watching her the whole night. Suddenly, the girl catches your eyes on her in between the groups of people. It's your gaze alone that pulls her towards you. She takes the seat next to you at the bar, the one you purposely kept empty for her. For the first time since you've been there you are the one who strikes up a conversation. You compliment her on her moves, knowing fully well you weren't talking about her dancing."

His voice grew harsh. "Amelia, stop it." 

"She warns you to stay away from her. However, you're simply too enthralled by her demeanor and mannerism to listen. Once the girl feels more comfortable around you, she begins to let down her walls. From there on the two of you flirt consistently back and forth, slowly building up tension. You want more than just a night of talking."

My entire body trembled in fear, but I couldn't stop.

"You've decided that talking just wasn't enough. You wanted to reach out and touch. To feel her softness beneath your hands. In your mind, she is perfect in every way. But she senses something slightly off by the man sitting in front of her. Somehow she knew. That you, Elijah Broderick, are nothing but pure, unmerciful trouble."