**Four weeks later**
I never, ever, thought I'd say it, but the anniversary of my dad's death started out a surprisingly good day.
Not only did my boyfriend find the perfect way to honor the occasion, but he also planned activities to keep my mind off the sadness that usually overshadowed everything else.
He me to my father's grave to surprise me with a string quartet he hired to play a selection of Beatles hits, including my Dad's favorite song, Golden Slumbers. Gray quietly held me while I cried and he waited while I placed fresh roses in the vase beside my Dad's headstone.
To draw me out of my sadness, he asked questions about my Dad. He even managed to coax a smile out of me when I told Gray about the time my Dad dressed as Santa Claus and accidentally lit the living room on fire because he knocked over an advent candle. No serious damage was done to the house, thankfully, but he ended up having to buy the charred remains of the Santa suit that he rented. My Dad wore that tattered red and white singed suit every year after that just to 'get his money's worth'.
Then, Gray took me to Café Vita where we shared coffee and buttery pastries with Rebecca and Bart.
After that, my friends escorted me on a personal tour of the Seattle Arm Museum (or, the S.A.M., to us locals), which happened to be one of my favorite galleries in the city. Bart and Rebecca peeled away from us somewhere around the sculpture wing to give Gray and me some time alone. We wandered around for hours discussing our favorite artists and blissfully in love.
From there, we went downtown to the Pink Door. The famous burlesque restaurant on the waterfront was infamously hard to get a reservation at, but not for Gray.
He somehow scored us one of the best tables in the place so we could enjoy the DJ spinning a live soundtrack for a troupe of sensual male and female dancers while we dined on mouthwatering Italian food.
We were just tucking into our meals when a familiar voice curdled our happiness on the spot.
"Isla!" The hairs on my neck prickled like needles.
"Eli, what are you doing here?" Gray's low, protective snarl made my tummy knot.
"Nice to see you too, brother," Elijah's sickeningly confident smile made my heart sink. "Isla, don't you look lovely? Don't go calling the cops now, I had no idea you'd be here to violate your little, order of protection."
I offered him a wan expression.
Elijah's failure to understand why I reported his assault was repugnant, and, technically, he wasn't supposed to be within fifty feet of me.
The last thing I wanted, however, was to cause a big emotional showdown with my hateful ex in a public place.
I eyed the perky young blonde woman on ELijah's arm to realize that she wasn't the same woman he was living with a few weeks ago. Gross.
"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" Elijah stretched his mouth even wider still and bared his gleaming incisors. "What's the occasion?"
The cruel glint in his glassy eyes said he knew exactly what day it was.
We dated for almost five years and Elijah used to call this my 'hibernation period' because I would barricade myself in my room and try not to think about my dad's untimely death.
Elijah's immaculately tailored outfit didn't quite cover the bulging cast on his hand. It also couldn't hide his bloated face, or the waxy sheen of his skin, or the glowing red rings around his irises. It was pretty obvious that he was high on something.
"Don't be a dick," Gray frowned and angled himself in front of me. "We're just having dinner."
"Well, in that case," Elijah's maniacal grin widened. "Do you have room for two more?"
"But, we just ate," his date wined urgently.
"Shut up!" Elijah didn't even bother treating his new girlfriend like she mattered. The woman's crestfallen reaction made my heart ache for her. "What about dessert, then? Isla always has room for dessert."
"Actually, I'm pretty sure the police would have a problem with you being anywhere near her!" Rebecca interjected, drawing Elijah's attention (and his ire). "Besides, we don't have enough room for an ego your size at this table."
"Bart," Elijah sneered and turned his glare on his former buddy. "Good to see you, brother, it's been a while."
"Hey, Eli," Bart wasn't able to disguise his shock. "What's new?"
"I had the tendons in my hand reattached," Elijah shrugged. "Which is how I met Francesca here, whose dad is one of the assistant coaches for the Seahawks, by the way. I guess you would know that if you actually bothered to call me."
"Uh, it's nice to meet you, Francesca," Bart nodded.
"It's, Franny," she supplied with an overenthusiastic giggle.
I desperately wanted to warn her. To tell her what Elijah was capable of, especially when he got all worked up and his eyes went black and empty, but I was too late. His eyes were already darkening into the empty void I looked into while he was choking me.
"Thanks, man," the conniving arch of Elijah's brow was anything but sincere. "I guess I can see why you dropped me as a friend. Rebecca, it's nice to see you again."
"I don't like you, cabron," she responded with a honey-coated air kiss.
Rebecca clicked her tongue to make it very clear how much she didn't appreciate his presence.
My heart was thumping so loud it had blocked out most of the ambient noise in the restaurant, which was hard to do with a live DJ and subwoofers.
Gray and I had been avoiding the topic of my ex and his worsening behavior so that we could focus on us.
Elijah's face was twisting with anger at his thwarting.
Gray laced his fingers through mine under the table and I leaned into him, hoping to absorb some of his warmth and strength.
"Oh, and, Gray," Elijah swiveled his dimpled chin to narrow his glowering eyes at us while acting as if he just remembered something very important. "My mom wanted me to let you know that Thanksgiving starts at two."
The energy rolling off Gray's shoulders changed inscrutably. He went from lovingly protective to damn near losing it in under twenty seconds.
Bart stood up abruptly to brace himself between Elijah and the table, glancing in his girlfriend's direction to be sure that Rebecca was safe.
I, however, was confused.
I had no idea that Gray was going to Elijah's house for Thanksgiving. As far as I knew, we'd been planning a special dinner at his condo so that I could meet his little sister.
"Really?" The admonition in Gray's tone froze my sputtering heart. "So, I'm suddenly invited to Thanksgiving dinner again? Just like that?"
"I told you why you were uninvited, you asshole!" Elijah shouted as if he had been waiting for an excuse to freak out. "You're the one that fucked everything up when you fucked her!"
"This has nothing to do with, Isla!" Gray shot up from the booth and shoved past Bart to get the attention of everyone close by, including a server. "Don't punish her for your own petty bullshit, man!"
Warily, I watched the server rush for the kitchen, no doubt fetching someone to break up the brewing altercation.
"Um, honey?" Elijah's quivering date looked unsure of whether she should storm out or stick around.
"SHUT! UP! FRANNY!" Elijah spun around and yelled so forcefully that he flung spittle in her face.
"Hey!" Gray raised his arms as my heart revved like the engine of his expensive sports car. "Calm the hell down!"
We were supposed to be honoring my Dad, not watching in horror as Elijah and Gray brawled in the middle of a burlesque restaurant.
"Get the fuck out of my face!" Elijah poked Gray in the chest, hard, with his good hand. "Have you told her the truth about your son yet? Or are you still lying to her?"
"Don't do this here, Eli," Gray's voice scraped the lowest octave in his register to send a cold shiver up my spine. "Don't say something you'll regret!"
"Did he tell you, Isla?" Elijah demanded, shifting his harried stare in my direction. "Did he tell you about his son?"
"Yes, I know about Gray's son, Elijah," I rolled my eyes to hide my nervous exhale.
"Oh, yeah?" Elijah's eyes tightened menacingly. "So, you know all about Lucas, huh? I guess you're going to want visitation rights, too, huh?"
Elijah was visibly excited to watch me put the pieces of the puzzle together right in front of him, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of my reaction.
Instead, I turned to Gray to find his eyes already on me, imploring.
"Does that mean Elijah's little brother-?" I didn't get the chance to finish.
"Is my son," Gray nodded solemnly.