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soap-lady · 11 months ago

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Happy...whatever

Okay, I'm back on my nonsense so here's a super long (11k) story in my Hellraiser domestic fluff series.

CW: Cyber stalking, physical stalking, thoughts of violence, kidnapping, profanity, threats of torture, threats in general, and Trevor Gooden.

@tenebrare was a huge help and I couldn't have gotten this done without them.

@angelqueen13art @idreamtofmanderleyagain Hope you enjoy this.

Kirsty’s Abhorrent Admirers

When Kirsty announced her plans to return to college, Tiffany and Elliot had been one hundred percent happy and supportive. Kirsty had a quick and clever mind and it was wasteful for her to languish indoors when there was a world of opportunities for her.

Her tuition was paid for by a trust fund created by her parents after she was born, so there would be no financial burden and after some documents prepared by legitimate medical professionals, Kirsty’s time away could be explained as a Gap Year.

Kirsty was pursuing a career in business, very useful for handling her own finances as well as clients looking for stable investments. It was all very wordy and technical and Elliot renewed his efforts to learn more about the modern world. The Cenobites kept up with technological advances but contemporary business practices, much like social norms, were somewhat unexplored as they were deemed unimportant for their work.

Tiffany was proud and pleased. She was happy that Kirsty was learning new things and moving on from the Channard Institute, just like she was. They joked about being “study buddies” and that Tiffany should visit the campus and see if she’d like to attend Kirsty’s university as well someday.

Elliot tried not to let his personal feelings brought on by old doubts affect Kirsty’s enthusiasm. True, not many women went to university in his day but he could see that attitude was foolish and outdated. There were times he truly loathed regaining his memory; he’d always thought of himself as progressive; he’d even supported women’s suffrage. But his old beliefs were now so old-fashioned. He knew neither young woman needed him as a protector and provider, but he still longed to take care of them as they took care of him. He missed the days when it was just the three of them and he didn’t have to share either girl with the outside world.

You think like an old man, Spencer. Kirsty would laugh if she knew what you were thinking and Tiffany would be ashamed.

So he did what he thought was best; suppress any misgivings he had and actively encourage and assist her in every way he could. He was learning more about computers and was accumulating as much knowledge as he could hold. They were both progressing well in their self-defense lessons and would soon be ready for weapons.He could also listen to her talk about her professors, tell her how proud they were of her, and give her the emotional support she needed.

Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks. Then problems arose when Tiffany and Elliot noticed Kirsty was garnering loads of…admirers.

Men, for the most part. Lots of them.

At first they were just morbidly curious about the young woman who survived not only a massacre committed by family members but a massacre committed by an insane psychiatrist trusted to treat her survivor’s guilt and trauma. Most of them had buggered off when she refused to answer their questions . There was also the icy glare given to them by Tiffany and Elliot when they’d dropped by the School of Business to take Kirsty to lunch.

Had Kirsty been interested, she had a wide variety to choose from. There was a junior professor, a teaching assistant, an assistant at the university library, and scores of her fellow students.

The junior professor tried to impress her with philosophy. The TA wrote her poetry. The lad from the library always volunteered to help with research materials. They and Kirsty’s fellow students were mostly harmless. Some were almost eligible and had many traits in their favor, such as intelligence or a good position. He didn’t consider any of them worthy but had to concede it was her decision.

Fortunately, Kirsty didn’t seem too interested. She didn’t think dating a professor was a good idea, even if he wasn’t one of hers. Getting involved with a teaching assistant could invite accusations of cheating or getting the answer sheet early. The library assistant was nice and funny but a girl named Megan in her Economics class had eyes on him and Kirsty refused to pursue him, citing, ��Sisters over Misters.” Tiffany explained to Elliot that it was against the Girl Code of Ethics to pursue a man you knew a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance, liked.

Then, there was Trevor.

Elliot had taken an instant dislike to him. The man wasn’t unattractive and had blue eyes that seemed to draw female attention. His smile was practiced and his teeth were so perfect Elliot wanted to ram them down the other man’s throat in the hope they would be shat out.

Ahem

That was an unkind thought and though he had many opinions on the matter, only Kirsty was allowed to decide who could court her, even if he were a smug little sod who kept trying to find excuses to touch Kirsty. One time he rubbed his thumb across hers while handing her something. Another time he touched her hair by claiming a leaf had flown into her curls. He would also try to sit beside Kirsty, but Kirsty thwarted him by having her “girl squad”, other female students she was starting to become friends with, occupy any seat near her. Tiffany and Elliot filled this role whenever they visited or went out with Kirsty’s peer group.

If Trevor noticed Kirsty’s less than enthusiastic response to his pursuit, it didn’t stop him from trying to ask her out or suggesting she join a “group chat” to discuss assignments. Any time his eyes met Elliot’s he would grin smugly as if he’d already won Kirsty over. Elliot had also heard himself referred to as “Kirsty’s Dad” or how glad he was that “older people were so interested in education.”

He knew he was twelve years older than Kirsty, hardly an insurmountable age difference, and she’d been an adult when they met. She seemed fond of him now that she’d forgiven him for trying to kill her or condemn her to eternal torture. There was something to be said for experience and he was a man who had been educated at the finest military academy in Britain, so he was closer to being Kirsty Cotton’s equal than some uncouth sod who leered at her with all the subtlety of a baboon.

Sigh.

He would keep his opinions about Trevor to himself until and unless Kirsty asked him directly.

Elliot refused to lower himself by replying to Trevor’s barbs. He would trust Kirsty to make her own decisions and protect herself when he couldn’t be with her. He handed Kirsty her lunch and asked for her input about supper. He was always rewarded with a kiss on the cheek and a “see you at home, Dear” before he and Tiffany left via public transportation. He did his best not to look smug that Kirsty would rather kiss him and not Trevor. Some of Kirsty’s peers referred to him as Kirsty’s house husband and Tiffany was laughing so hard she could barely explain.

“It’s um…a reversal of gender roles, you know?” she managed at last while looking over her homework. “Kirsty goes out, earns the money and you stay home and take care of the house.” Before he could protest she added. “There’s not much social stigma for stay at home dads or husbands any more, not that a guy who used to wear a skirt cares much about social norms.” She winked at him. “Besides, everyone can tell she likes you a lot more than Trevor. Trevor is a douche canoe who gives off creeper vibes. You’re family.”

It never failed to warm him when Tiffany or Kirsty called him family. He missed feeling as if he belonged somewhere or to someone. He’d worked along his Order for decades. He was glad to have regained his independence but he was sorry that they hadn’t survived along with him. They had been good soldiers and he missed their loyalty and company.

Elliot did his best to take Tiffany’s words to heart but the fact Trevor could be around Kirsty for hours on end, away from her family, where he had a chance to charm her or wear her down until she agreed to “give him a chance” and date him made Elliot uneasy.

He doubted that Trevor had good intentions towards Kirsty. Perhaps he saw her as a conquest and would discard her once he’d had sex with her. Maybe he wanted her because he couldn’t have her and enjoyed the challenge. Then again, and to Elliot’s mind this was the most likely motive: money. Kirsty didn’t flaunt her wealth or act haughty but the university she attended was not inexpensive and many of her classmates worked for their tuition or had a collection of scholarships, grants, and loans.

Kirsty did not. Elliot once heard Trevor whisper that Kirsty “must be a trust fund baby” and bristled on her behalf, reminding himself that stomping people to death was illegal. Kirsty was leagues above the women of his class in his youth; she would never be content with a life of leisure, a pretty doll on a man’s arm. She wanted to create her own destiny and decide her future for herself. It was admirable and made him respect her even more.

Their days as a small but ideal family might have continued in a state of equilibrium for years on end. Kirsty showed no preference for any of the men who pursued her, even if one of her friends referred to the young woman’s admirers as a “reverse harem.”

Then the texts started.

Most of them were innocuous. Compliments, snippets of poetry, even a few photos of Kirsty sitting in class or laughing with her new friends. Clearly this was someone who knew her from university.

It bothered him more that he wanted to admit that some unknown git was upsetting Kirsty and following her. It enraged him that someone thought that Kirsty, his Kirsty, belonged to them, as if her thoughts and feelings didn’t matter. He found himself reaching for tools that no longer hung at his waist. No matter. The army taught him how to kill and there were other techniques he had perfected as a Cenobite.

Elliot and Tiffany had just arrived to escort Kirsty to their usual “Friday Night Family Dinner” at a revolving series of restaurants when Kirsty’s text alert went off.

She pulled out her phone, groaned, and then rolled her eyes. “Not this shit again,” she sounded annoyed.

“Is it the return of Captain Douchebag?” Tiffany asked.

The number the person used always came up as “Unknown” so Tiffany had started calling him “Captain Douchebag”, a name no doubt thought up by Callie, who had started referring to her ex-beau by that moniker. It was oddly appropriate for the person bothering Kirsty.

“Yep.” Kirsty read the message aloud.

Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time

Kirsty snorted. “Auden. At least the douche is avoiding the worst of cliche love poems, like Shakespear’s sonnets or ‘How Do I Love Thee?’ So he’s at least slightly original.”

“What makes you so sure it’s a guy?” one of Kirsty’s male classmates asked. Elliot was surprised that it wasn’t Trevor. The younger man seemed determined to insert himself in every conversation as much as he seemed to want to insert himself…no that was vulgar.

“I can’t see a girl thinking poetry would work on me. He’s clearly trying to be aloof and mysterious but he’s coming off as a stalker.”

The group laughed and Trevor of all people tried to be the concerned voice of reason.

“No offense, Kirsty, but aren’t you taking this guy…or girl…or nonbinary a little lightly?” Trevor frowned. “They could be dangerous. I mean…” he shrugged, “they could follow you home and stake out your house…follow you to class…attack you”

Kirsty didn’t scoff or acknowledge his concern. “He’s hiding behind a screen and using an unknown number. I keep blocking him but he texts me again from a new number. Probably a coward.” She ran her thumbs over her phone then grinned in satisfaction. “There! Blocked again! That should give us time to eat in peace.” She stood up, then grabbed Tiffany’s then Elliot’s hands and pulled them to their feet. She smiled at the group but did address Trevor. “I’m never alone. I have people watching my back.”

“I for one, would feel a great swell of pity for anyone who tried to harm Kirsty,” Elliot’s cool blue eyes swept over Kirsty’s peers and a few of them shivered. “But not for very long.”

The three of them walked arm in arm as they decided on a Greek restaurant for dinner.

*****

“You know, next semester I might see how many classes I can take online,” Kirsty was saying as she poured Elliot a glass of ouzo.

Elliot gave her a nod of thanks and took a cautious sip before setting down his glass. “Why is that?” I thought you were doing well, making friends…”

The server placed down a plate of stuffed grape leaves and gave them all a professional smile. His eyes might have lingered on Kirsty but she didn’t seem to notice. Tiffany dived in and grabbed four before anyone else.

Kirsty nodded. “Yeah. I’ve met some pretty cool people. There’s all sorts of campus activities…even support groups for trauma survivors.”

Elliot cleared his throat, then tried the ouzo again. The black licorice flavor was a bit cloying and the subject made him uncomfortable.

Tiffany caught his eye, looking sympathetic. “That’s a good thing. You know…for your dad, or Channard.”

Kirsty frowned as she put some dolomedes on a small plate and passed them to Elliot. “Well, I’d have to talk about the circumstances surrounding Dad’s death and we technically are still under a gag order pending the lawsuit with Channard’s estate. I couldn’t say much without getting into legal trouble or ending up in another asylum.” She laughed and there was a tinge of bitterness in it.

“Tiffany was telling me about a phone app that matches you with a therapist and you can remain anonymous,” Elliot suggested.

Kirsty smiled at him and continued. “Good idea. Thanks, El.” Returned to her previous subject. “Don’t get me wrong. There’s some great people in my classes.” She sighed. “But they’re all…” she gestured with her hands. “…normies, y’know?” She looked from Elliot to Tiffany. They looked back at her. Tiffany nodded in understanding while the term confused Elliot but he was still attentive.

Kirsty explained. “Their lives are so normal and mundane. They don’t know what it’s like to lose a family. They have their own struggles with money but no huge tragedies. I can’t really relate to them. All they want to do is…” she frowned as she tried to think of how to phrase her thoughts. “Go out and drink and party all weekend. Go to class on Monday hungover, swear they’ll never do it again. Then they do it again the next Friday. They laugh at me for studying and tell me “you only live once!”

There was a part of Elliot that was jumping up and down. He knew he was being selfish but he didn’t want to share Kirsty or Tiffany with the outside world. He knew it was an unhealthy attitude; that most humans were social creatures and needed the company of other people. That didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap his girls in cotton and protect them from the outside world.

“Then there’s all the attention, especially male,” Kirsty rolled her eyes and looked at Tiffany, who also rolled hers.

Elliot had the feeling he was about to step on treacherous ground. He wanted to protect her but he also knew he had no right to forbid her from anything. “You’re an attractive young woman so of course people are going to notice you.” He tried to be tactful. “Still, the young men around you seem a bit…intrusive.”

“And touchy-feely,” Tiffany added.

Elliot shook his head in disapproval. “They find any excuse to approach you, touch you. Intrude on your time. I know it isn’t my place but…” he placed his hands on the table. “Why do modern men find it so difficult to believe you’re not flattered by their attention?”

“Because they weren’t taught manners,” Tiffany spoke up before Kirsty could but the older woman nodded. “They don’t take no as ‘I’m not interested’. They take no as ‘Try again later,’ “ She grinned at Elliot. “Maybe you could do a TED talk for modern guys or something.”

“Or something,” Elliot agreed. He turned back to Kirsty. “It’s your decision of course,” he longed to make the decision for her, “and you know Tiffany and I will support you either way.”

Kirsty beamed at him and he pretended not to notice that her eyes were tearing up a bit. “Thanks, El,” she leaned forward and took his and Tiffany’s hands in hers. “It means a lot to me that after dealing with classes and weirdos over text that I can come home to you guys.” She squeezed their hands. “You understand me.”

Tiffany nodded, also getting emotional. “Same.”

Elliot raised their hands to his lips and kissed their knuckles. “You are two of the most amazing people I have met in decades,” he told them. He looked at both of them and smiled. “I’m honored you consider me family.”

None of them spoke for a few minutes as they basked in comfortable silence with people who understood them. Elliot was hesitant to say more and hoped his eyes did all the talking for him. He was grateful to have their trust and hoped, in a way, he also had their love. He knew he loved them but it was a nebulous sort of love. Tiffany was the daughter he never had but he hesitated to define his feelings for Kirsty. He wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Could she separate the nightmare creature he had been from the man he was now? He told himself to be patient, to let her come to him.

Then she would smile or laugh at him and tease him and he felt his resolve weaken. He also found it difficult to separate the worthy opponent from the young woman before him. She’d been his adversary. Now she was his family. It was still jarring for him.

Kirsty shook off whatever emotion she was feeling and looked at the menu. “Okay, okay, enough of me being sappy. This isn’t the Hallmark Channel. Who wants to try the souvlaki with me?”

*****

Elliot’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he perused the used book store near the mall. It was a tiny little place in a shopping plaza next door to a cafe. The store was old but clean and he had a delightful conversation with the clerk about the debt modern science fiction writers owed to Mary Shelley, H.G. Wells and Jules Verne. He excused himself, paid for his items, and exited the store to answer the call.

“Hallo, this is Spencer. Is this Tiffany or Kirsty?”

None of the people he dallied with had his number. He didn’t give it out. If they wanted to see him during the week they usually rapped on the door while the girls were away and made an appointment. He wondered if Kirsty was ill or if Tiffany had forgotten her lunch again.

“Hello, Darling.”

He paused. He recognized the voice as Kirsty but she sounded strange. Her tone was too bright and filled with syrupy affection. Plus, she referred to him as “darling”. Kirsty never addressed him with any endearments. She usually called him Elliot, Elli, Spencer, or if she was annoyed or trying to tease him, Captain Spencer.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Kirsty was either in danger or in a situation where she felt uneasy. “Are you being followed? Can anyone hear you?”

“How did you know? I swear you have to be psychic!”

He assumed she was answering yes to both of her questions. “Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I just got out of class and had to call you. I was going to head home but I’d much rather meet you somewhere.”

Someone was following her and she didn’t want to lead them home. They were close enough to hear her conversation so she was speaking to him in code.

Anyone who didn’t know her well would miss the slight tremor in her voice, the way it was pitched higher than normal.

Kirsty Cotton, the young woman who’d escaped his Order twice, was afraid.

Elliot’s concern for her melted into anger. His skin felt hot and his blood roared in his ears. He wanted to slice this person’s stomach open and strangle them with their own intestines. He wanted to crack their skull open and feed them their own brain. He wanted-

Kirsty’s voice cut through the haze of anger surrounding him. “I really need to see you. Where should I meet you?”

He looked around. “I’m near the shopping mall. It’s rather crowded today so it’ll be easy to give someone the slip. Don’t take any side streets. You could get lost in a cul-de-sac. Take the most public roads you can. I’ll meet you near the soft pretzel place you like. Park on the third level of the parking garage. It’s the most well-lit. If nothing else we can take the bus home and pick up your car later. Just don’t leave anything inside and we’ll let security know why it’s there. Be safe, Kirsty.”

“I will, Darling. See you soon.”

*****

Kirsty met him fifteen minutes later. She must have sped all the way there but it was hardly the time to lecture her about traffic laws. She surprised him by wrapping her arms around him as if he’d disappear if she let go. Elliot stiffened at first then allowed himself to relax and hold her. He rubbed her back in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

Eventually he reluctantly released her and stepped back. She stopped hugging him but still held his hand. Her eyes were huge, pupils dilated, and tinged with red. He imagined she either cried on the way over or it was a very near miss.

“Is he or she still following you?” he asked and then inwardly cringed. That was hardly a diplomatic thing to ask but he felt it was important to know.

She looked unsure. “I don’t know. I kept making weird turns to make it harder for him to follow me but he might have put a tracker on my car.”

Him. So it was a man, one of the idiots from class or a professor who thought they were entitled to her time and attention. Disgusting. In his day women might have had to worry about being accosted by a stranger on the Tube but any man of honor knew to take his defeat and withdraw once being rejected. Really, these modern men continued to disappoint him.

“We’ll thoroughly search your car once we’re safely home.” Really, this was a world that sent people to orbit the earth and cure diseases yet used this wonderful technology to more efficiently stalk a woman who was clearly uninterested.

Kirsty continued to look at him. Her hand trembled, her lips wobbled and he dearly wanted to put her in his pocket and keep her safe. That, or bash the idiot’s brains in. But that response might get him arrested. And probably banned from the mall. He looked around.

“I believe near the west end of the mall is a store that recently went out of business. If I recall correctly there was a bench in front of the store where we could sit and talk.”

She nodded in agreement, then frowned. “Isn’t that a little isolated?”

He shook his head. “Usually, yes, but it’s also near the security office. We should be all right.”

*****

They made their way to the abandoned store, Kirsty holding his hand the whole way. It bothered him that this brave, confident girl was reduced to clinging to him due to fear. He imagined it had reminded her of running from her disgusting uncle, or perhaps his Cenobite persona. He selfishly hoped it was the former.

After they had sat down he turned to her and asked, “Would you like to tell me what happened? You can take your time of course.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when she wrapped herself around him and began to weep, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

His neck felt wet and he assumed she must be crying. It shamed him to admit it but he enjoyed the feeling of her arms around him. He rubbed her back and let her cry, occasionally murmuring, “it’s all right. Let it all out. I’ve got you.”

After five minutes she let go of him and he was finally able to reach into a pocket and pull out a handkerchief. She thanked him and wiped her face. He kept an arm gently draped across her shoulders and she leaned against him.

His conscience pricked him and he wondered if he were somehow taking advantage of the situation. “Would you like to talk about it? Or if you prefer, we can go home and you can speak to Tiffany if you’d be more comfortable talking to a fellow lady…”

Kirsty shook her head and managed the tiniest of smiles. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

He felt warmed by her belief in him once again. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She took several deep breaths to calm herself and then began. “Well, I started this yoga class before lunch. You know, with Parvati and Ilsa? Well, I was taking a shower and I thought I heard a man’s voice.”

He ignored the shower and focused on her voice. Elliot swallowed his anger and asked, “a custodian, perhaps?”

She frowned and leaned away slightly. “I thought so too at first but the custodian for the women’s locker room during the day is a woman. A man only cleans it when the college closes down at night.”

Elliot nodded to show he was still listening and she continued.

“I dressed as fast as I could and walked near the exit with my keys sticking up between my fingers. I figured if someone tried to attack me I could jab them with my keys.”

He dipped his head in approval. “A sensible precaution. Well done.”

“Well, then I heard women’s voices. They were probably wondering what the guy was doing there and he left. They saw me and,” Kirsty took another deep breath, “and said the guy was probably a pervert and it was dangerous to be alone, so they walked me to the cafeteria and we had lunch.”

“Very clever, all of you,” he approved.

She just shrugged. “Class was fine and I’d almost forgotten about the guy until I was leaving class. The business building is pretty old and near the back of campus. There’s this covered sideway which has hedges on both sides. It’s pretty, but-”

“Isolated,” he finished.

Elliot knew she could protect herself. She was clever and brave and a fierce fighter. She was learning hand to hand combat with ease but had her weaknesses like everyone else. He was beginning to wonder if she needed a bodyguard; the thought that she was followed, even to the women’s changing room worried him. He wondered if she would allow him to accompany her to class. If not him perhaps they should consider hiring a professional. Better safe than dead.

Kirsty rubbed the back of her neck and gave him a rueful smile. “Yeah. You know how the hairs on your neck stand up when you’re scared or think you’re in danger?” He nodded and she nodded back. “So that happened. I could hear and feel someone following me. I didn’t want to risk looking back to see them.” She gestured with her hands. “I didn’t want to walk faster and let them know I knew they were there so I pulled out my phone and called you. I figured you could come meet me or I could meet you and if they tried anything there would be a phone record.”

She was so very very clever. He couldn’t help but admire that about her, even if it had been frustrating for him when he was the Pontifex Inferi.

He spoke softly and gently to her, afraid he might spook her. “Forgive me for saying this but…this incident…it must have felt like…”

Kirsty pulled him close and put her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were dark and haunted. “Yeah, I know. It felt just like when Frank was wearing Daddy’s skin and hunting me through the house. I thought I was gonna die, just like back then.”

Even though it hadn’t been his intention, he was glad the arrival of himself and his Order had spared her something vile. “I’m sorry, Kirsty.”

It wasn’t his fault Frank was such an unrepentant bastard but he was still furious at the man for attempting to subject Kirsty to his perverse lust. He too was a lustful creature, in life and in service to Leviathan but the thought of coercion disgusted him. Now another man was making Kirsty feel unsafe and he burned with the desire to inflict any and all tortures he could imagine upon the filthy creature.

Kirsty gave him another side hug and looked up at him. “Crying makes me thirsty.” She managed a smile and they both pretended it was real. “How about a latte at Nova Novak's?”

*****

They ended up having not just lattes but elderberry scones as well. They chatted about nothing about consequence and he even succeeded in making her laugh. She was beginning to relax when she stiffened and sat up straight, looking off into the distance.

“Don’t look at him directly,” Kirsty warned him, “but I think I just saw Trevor.”

“Does he work here?”

Kirsty shrugged. “Nah. Trevor thinks he’s too bougie to work at a mere mall. His friend Brent works at a phone kiosk.”

Elliot mentally ran through all the information she had given him about Trevor. Pompous ass, entitled git, yes…opinionated prat with unknown designs on Kirsty.

Wait.

“Didn’t you say someone kept texting you from different burner phones?” he asked her. He tried to both look at and not look at Trevor.

Kirsty stopped trying to observe Trevor with her makeup mirror and stared at Elliot, wide-eyed. “Having a friend who works for a phone carrier would make it easy to get a new phone. He could just trade in an old phone for a new one.”

It was both clever and disgusting. If he paid cash for each phone it would make them hard to trace and his accomplice could help him dispose of old phones by recycling them. Many carriers had a program where people could donate old phones. Even if a phone could be traced, it could not be traced back to Trevor.

“Interesting,” he mused aloud, “and if we hadn’t just coincidentally been here today, we might not have known for weeks or months.”

There was a clatter as Kirsty rose to feet so fast she made her chair wobble. Elliot could see her intent; she was about to go to the phone kiosk and confront Trevor publicly, perhaps even attack him. He could not let that happen.

“Kirsty, don’t!” he firmly grabbed her hand and shook his head at her once he saw he had her attention. He softened his voice. “Don’t. Please don’t. Not here.”

“Why-” her first impulse was to dash off and take control of the situation and force Trevor to confess. Then she realized people were watching and she sat back down, eyes narrowed. She was tempted to tell him to fuck off but stopped herself. Elliot might have some good advice for her so she decided to hear him out. She lowered her voice and asked through gritted teeth. “Why the hell not?”

Kirsty was brave, clever and resourceful. She was good at improvising on the spot but she was also impulsive and that got her into trouble. He wished he still had his chains and a convenient place to hide bodies. Trevor would be strung up for all to see and Elliot would have made a necklace out of his ears for Tiffany and his hide would be boots for Kirsty. Now that he was human and only had human means of punishment he would have to work within the law. To do otherwise could risk his family.

He also lowered his voice. “Because as enjoyable as it would be to confront him or attack him, this is neither the time nor the place. You have scores of witnesses and you can almost be assured there would be video evidence online. Plus, someone would call security and you could be arrested. That would not be good for your academic career.”

Elliot gave in to the urge to grab her hand. “I can understand your desire for revenge. I would feel the same way if someone was stalking me for whatever reason.” He wasn’t quite pleading with her. “But we must be cleverer than Trevor. Document everything. Someone with his arrogance would cock it up sooner or later and expose himself publicly.”

Kirsty bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Expose himself, huh?”

He realized what he’d said and flushed. “Not remotely what I meant.” He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. “We’ll need a plan and we’ll make one together. That way we can figure out how to make Trevor incriminate himself.”

*****

The next two weeks were relatively peaceful. Aside from a few “Who the hell were you talking to?”! texts Kirsty’s “mysterious stalker” more or less left her alone. Between Elliot, Tiffany, a temporary bodyguard named Beatrix, and Kirsty’s female classmates, she was never alone. She was starting to relax and enjoy her education again. By contrast, Trevor looked increasingly frustrated every time Elliot caught a glimpse of him. He supposed Trevor’s grand plan was failing spectacularly. Amateur. Elliot had cut his teeth on books by Tacticus and Sun Tzu. Some plebeian with a mid tier education didn’t stand a chance.

Kirsty’s college friends thought she was being harassed by an abusive ex and thus did everything in their power to keep her safe. They also kept a close eye on anyone trying to interact with Kirsty and it helped Elliot’s cause to have a dozen other eyes helping with surveillance.

Tiffany had come with Elliot to accompany Kirsty home. Kirsty’s friend Ilsa had spotted the girl and smiled at her, sliding across the bench to make room for Tiffany and Elliot. “Hey, sis!” She addressed Tiffany. She looked Elliot over and winked. “Hey, zaddy.”

“Er…hello, Ilsa,” he smiled at her. Ilsa blushed.

Trevor looked annoyed, as he always did when any of the women in their circle showed him any positive attention. “Please. Like he knows what it means.”

Tiffany answered before Kirsty or Elliot could. “Yes he does. I’ve been tutoring him in Gen Z.” She gave him a side hug. “He’s such a fast learner.”

Elliot patted her shoulder. “Thank you for educating an old man such as myself, poppet.” He smiled and she smiled back. “I quite literally learn something new every day.”

Trevor once again interrupted a conversation that didn’t need his input. “Is one of those things how to be a pedophile?”

Kirsty and Tiffany glared at Trevor. Most of the people at the table stopped talking and glared at Trevor. He found himself greatly outnumbered and instead of apologizing and politely withdrawing he continued to speak.

“Oh, come on!” he went on. He gestured at Kirsty. “She’s barely old enough to drink!” He then pointed at Tiffany, who stared at him in shock. “And she’s only fourteen! And he lives with both of them!”

“And what’s your point?” Everyone looked at Parvati, who rarely spoke up. She looked a little self-conscious but continued. “He’s Tiffany’s family. Kirsty told us all he’s her only living family. I doubt they share a room.”

“We don’t even share a bathroom!” Kirsty was quick to defend Elliot, who had decided the wisest thing to do was keep his mouth shut and let the women in his life talk. He felt a great sense of pride and gratitude that he didn’t have to ask the ladies in his life to defend him, they did it on their own.

“Everyone has their own bathroom. And their own room.” She looked Trevor over and didn’t even try to hide her contempt for him. She decided to publicly embarrass him, just as he was trying to do to Elliot. “Really, what’s your problem with Elliot? Why are you starting shit when he’s never done anything to you?” She scoffed. “What, are you jealous you’re not living with a fourteen year old?”

Even the other guys in the group were snickering at Trevor and he realized he wasn’t going to win over public opinion. So he decided to go on the attack.

“Unlike your roomie, Kirsty, I don’t have a taste for jailbait,” he sneered at Elliot. Goddammit, Spencer was such a cock blocker! He thwarted every attempt he made to ask Kirsty out and poisoned her mind against Trevor. Now the asshole was poisoning all his friends against him.

“So keep your creepy uncle pedo vibes to yourself, Spencer, and-”

No one knew what else he was going to say. Before he could continue (swore everyone who saw it happen) he was down on the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Tiffany stood over him. No one remembered seeing her stand up, much less punch Trevor in the stomach. It was a very good shot and Elliot and Kirsty were secretly impressed. Shocked, but impressed.

The young blonde brandished a fist. “Come at my family again. See what happens to you.”

Before he could stand up she turned and walked towards Kirsty’s car without stopping to see if the rest of her family was following her. They scrambled to their feet and fell in step behind Tiffany. Kirsty might have accidentally on purpose stepped on Trevor’s leg. Elliot definitely gave the other man a triumphant smirk as he passed his prone form.

“That was quite a punch, Tiffany,” Elliot said as they walked to the car. “But next time, don’t tuck your thumb into your fist. You could break it.”

*****

Two days later Trevor was nowhere to be found. He’d skipped all his classes and hadn’t answered any texts. Even his best friend Brent had sent a message to the group chat asking if anyone had heard from him. No one remembered adding him but they all promised to let him know if anyone had heard from Trevor.

Elliot was blissfully unaware that Trevor was missing and would not have cared if he’d known. He’d had a “morning visit” with a neighbor, who was kind enough to drive him to the library to check out some books about automobile restoration. He then had lunch with and then “afternoon delight” with another neighbor and went home feeling quite satisfied.

He began to worry when Kirsty texted him that she’d be late and couldn’t pick up Tiffany so he would have to make sure she took the bus home.

He’d texted Tiffany to let her know and hadn’t received a reply. That surprised him. She was always on her phone and after the incident with her first date she kept it charged and they’d increased her cellular plan. They’d also installed an app that would let them, with Tiffany’s permission, track her if they hadn’t heard from her after a certain amount of time.

Had a teacher confiscated it? Tiffany had been careful not to text in class but accidents happened. It could have been damaged but if that had happened she would have texted from Callie’s phone to let them know. She had before.

This wasn’t like Tiffany and he was growing worried. Kirsty might not be his direct responsibility but Tiffany was and he decided he was going to find her.

He pulled out his own phone and activated the tracking software. It showed Tiffany’s phone was stationary, if slightly off of school grounds.

Well, he wasn’t going to sit around and worry. He was going to take action…by taking the bus down to Tiffany’s school.

*****

Tiffany had told him about a shack just off the school campus. The school had once used it as a garden shed for agriculture classes but after the school had been renovated it was discovered that the building was technically not on school grounds but on public property. The renamed “squatters shack” sat just off of the school campus and was used by the occasional homeless person but also by students and (rumored) by teachers to either get high or get laid. It was forty foot by forty foot (twelve meters by twelve meters) and quite roomy.

Her phone signal was coming from there. The front entrance faced the street but there was also a back entrance with a ramp for when the shack contained large sacks of fertilizer that needed to be removed via wheelbarrow.

Elliot listened at the door and heard two voices. One was high-pitched, the other lower and gruff. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon and found an old rake. The metal bits were rusted but the handle was made of solid wood and barely rotted. It would have to do.

The building looked old and the door was closed but he doubted it had a deadbolt. One good kick should do it.

He braced himself and kicked the door open, sending dust and splinters everywhere. His voice briefly regained the strident military cadence it once had. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Elliot brandished the rake then stopped, blinking in shock.

This was not at all what he was expecting.

Instead of coming to rescue his teenaged ward he’d stumbled across a tall bulky man trying to hoist a familiar twit with a pulley. Under the man was a large metal tub half filled with water. Clearly some sort of water torture was the order of the day, the victim was perhaps half a meter above the water.

Trevor Gooden, looking slightly worse for wear, was tied up with and suspended by hooks from chains. Unfortunately they only pierced his clothing and not his skin. The man’s formerly expensive shirt was in tatters but the denim of his jeans was strong enough to bear the weight of the chains; otherwise Trevor would have fallen into the tub and drowned.

He brandished the rake handle at the stranger. “Let him go,” he demanded. He sighed inwardly as he prepared to save the life of someone he couldn’t stand.

The stranger looked at him. They wore what looked like a gas mask over their face, a little more modern than the ones he was used to. They wore all black, even down to their gloves and thick black wellies. The figure shook its head. “No. This worm has offended and attempted to dishonor the Sunset Queen and must be punished. He has invaded her privacy. He has harassed her. He has attempted to keep tabs on her by attaching a tracker to her vehicle.” The person’s voice sounded male, its tones reverberating throughout the small room. Trevor begged for mercy and Elliot felt confused.

“Sunset…do you mean Kirsty?” Elliot asked. The person nodded. He took a deep breath and tamped down his anger. This disgusting creature thought he had a right to Kirsty! But no, he wouldn’t stand by and let the sod die, even if he deserved it. He did not want the police poking around the house or in their lives. Again. Kirsty and Tiffany did not need their names in print or on television again, even though that Summerskill person was rather nice. “Thank you. We’ll find the tracker and remove it but you don’t have to become a murderer to protect her.” Tempting as it was in this case.

“Look, Spencer, I know we’re not friends but even you can let this freak kill me!” Trevor shouted.

Yes, Elliot could, but he wouldn’t. Not when the consequences could affect his girls.

Elliot tried to be persuasive and calm. “Kirsty would not want anyone to die, even a disgusting piece of human garbage like Trevor Gooden-”

“Hey, fuck you, Spencer.” Trevor spat out.

“Get in line, Gooden,” Elliot countered and then ignored the man in chains to address the captor. “Please. Consider how this would affect her.” Kirsty would be furious if anyone died in an ill-conceived attempt to protect her. “Let him go.”

The figure seemed to consider Elliot’s words and then nodded.“Whatever you say,” and started to release the chains.

Trevor screamed like a toddler when his face touched the water and Elliot shouted, “Not like that! Don’t drown him. Just release him. Please.”

The person shrugged again, then nudged the water tub out of the way with their foot before quickly letting the chains go. Trevor hit the ground in an undignified heap and the chains loosened enough for him to release himself. He tore the hooks out of his remaining clothes and threw them at Elliot and the figure in black. They missed of course and if the situation wasn’t so dire Elliot would have laughed.

Trevor scrambled unsteadily to his feet and reached for Elliot’s rake. “Give me that. I’m gonna ram it up this dickhead’s ass.”

Elliot held it out of his grasp and kept his tone commanding. “I think you should leave now, Trevor, while I can hold him off.” He pointed at the other man’s clothing. “You look like you lost a fight and he’s twice your size. Run while you can.”

Trevor looked like he wanted to argue but even though he was free he was still outmatched. Probably a coward as well. Gooden was the type of man who preferred to hide in the shadows to stalk women because he was powerless and cowardly. He was hardly the type to win against a larger opponent. Finally he fled, giving the chunky person a wide berth.

Once he was gone Elliot heaved a sigh and approached the person. Once they were close he reached out and booped them on the nose. “This was not the plan, poppet.”

*****

After Tiffany had returned everything she’d borrowed and they’d righted the potting shed, the two of them went to a small independent diner that served very good burgers and chips. They also had a rotating menu of original milkshake flavors and so Elliot decided to indulge in a chocolate cayenne shake while Tiffany had a white chocolate blackberry one. After the server had left their order and his number under Elliot’s glass, the two were left to talk.

Elliot brought the glass from his lips and drank from it. He never drank from a straw, too wasteful. Plus he didn’t want to look like an idiot when the liquid was too thick for the straw.

Tiffany had no problem looking like a fish on dry land and he tried not to smile at her. What she had attempted was dangerous for everyone involved.

He set down his glass and looked at Tiffany. “I had thought that we had a plan to deal with the Trevor problem.” He was trying to sound stern and angry but the faces she was making trying to suck her milkshake through a straw were funny. “We were going to act out our plan thoughtfully and only if he targeted her again.”

She nodded and looked a bit ashamed as she pushed her glass away. “What happened?” he demanded.

Tiffany sat straighter and looked him in the eye, not ashamed or regretful. Determined. “I swear I was gonna follow the plan.”

He must have looked skeptical because she hastily added, “I was! But…he went after me, Elli!”

Elliot froze and looked her over again. Her skin was pale, eyes opened wide and eyebrows raised. Her hands shook marginally and her pupils were dilated. She was afraid.

“Explain it to me,” his voice became gentle and he nearly reached out to comfort her but stopped when she flinched.

Tiffany nodded. “I wasn’t expecting him to come looking for me, but like I said, he put a tracker on Kirsty’s car.”

He frowned. “I thought your school had a security system, guards, and a closed-circuit camera system. I mean,” he shrugged, “it was highly touted in the pamphlet.”

She just shrugged. “My school is expensive but they spend money like it’s cheap. Most of the cameras are fakes just for show. Only one guard patrols the school and the other guys are sleeping or pretending to watch the cameras.”

“We’re being overcharged,” he muttered.

Tiffany continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “But everyone knows about the old potting shed and weak spots in the fence. So anyone could get on school grounds if they had any brains at all.” She took a deep breath. “And Trevor’s smart but lazy.” Maybe he found the weak spots in the fence by accident. Maybe he knew where to look.”

Elliot was beginning to wonder if Trevor had been stalking Tiffany as well, hoping the young girl was Kirsty’s weakness. He clearly needed to step up her self-defense training if people like Trevor were being so blatant. He didn’t think it was the time and clearly his poppet needed to talk.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I was on my way to the drama room because Mrs. Singer wanted me to help organize and pack up some old costumes. I heard Trevor’s voice and figured he thought he could get to Kirsty through me.”

Elliot once again felt anger and outrage sweep over him. Kirsty was a grown woman and he knew she could easily handle Trevor. Tiffany on the other hand was underaged and was ostensibly his responsibility, legally or morally. The fact Trevor had targeted his dau-his ward made him wish he’d broken the lad’s neck and damn the consequences. That tosser must be angry that Tiffany defended him and made him look like the fool he was in front of others.

“Um, Elli?”

Tiffany’s voice interrupted his murderous thoughts and he blinked, focusing on her. “Yes, poppet?”

She was pointing at his face and looked afraid. Afraid of him. “Your…eyes.”

She slid a makeup mirror across the table to him, letting go of it before his fingers could touch it. He opened it and looked at his reflection. He tried not to gasp out loud. His normally blue eyes had turned as black as they had been when he was a Cenobite.

Elliot closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself. After a few minutes he looked in the mirror again. Blue. Good.

He slid the mirror back towards Tiffany, who was also taking deep breaths to calm herself. “I…I didn’t know you could do that,” she stammered.

“Neither did I.” He thought for a moment and then said, “It must be an after effect of my…former occupation.” He looked across the table at her and said, “I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologized.

Tiffany shook her head. “I trust you.” She didn’t sound very convincing and said again, “I trust you, Elli. It was just a little bit of a shock, you know? Especially after today.”

He nodded and she continued her story. “Anyway, I heard him calling out for me. So I hid. When he was looking for me in the wardrobe trunks I doubled back around and hit him with a dressmaker’s dummy and knocked him out. Then I put him on a cart and wheeled him out to the potting shed. I figured no one would hear us out there.”

Elliot nodded in approval. He was very impressed with her improvisation. “Clever girl. Well done.”

She blushed under his praise and went on. “There were these bits of costumes from when they did a play about the Grim Reaper where the guy playing the Grim Reaper used a voice changer. There were also these construction stilts? To make the guy taller. They wanted the Grim Reaper to look seven feet tall and the guy was only five seven…”

He blinked in confusion and Tiffany could see she was losing her one person audience. “Anyway, I put on some padding and the costume pieces, grabbed a mask and the voice changer and decided I’d scare him into confessing to harassing Kirsty.” She waved her hands in a helpless gesture and sighed.

“But…” he prompted but she didn’t speak. “What happened, Tiffany?”

She spread her hands and gently slapped the table. “I don’t know! I mean, I found that tub but the pump outside wasn’t working right so I couldn’t fill it all the way. Plus,” she seemed exasperated. “He was heavier than I thought he’d be and even though I found some hooked chains and a pulley it was still really hard to pull him!” Tiffany sighed and looked at him. “I was debating whether or not I should just tie up the chains and leave him there to free himself when you showed up.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows and felt impressed despite himself. “It wasn’t a bad plan, just…went a bit mushy towards the end.” He gave her a disapproving frown. “You weren’t supposed to engage him, not alone. You should have barricaded yourself in a closet and texted me or Kirsty. We would have found you and you wouldn’t have endangered or incriminated yourself.”

Really, this could have ruined everything. Tiffany was very lucky no one saw her, even if Trevor would have gotten arrested for trespassing. They would have all been implicated; Tiffany would have been taken away, Kirsty’s past in a mental hospital would have been used against him and who knows what would have become of him. Studied, perhaps.

Still, he understood. She was afraid and panicked. He might have done the same thing at her age but it could have still gone horribly wrong. Trevor could have caught her or unmasked her and then blackmailed her into letting him get close to Kirsty. She could have died.

Tiffany could have died.

He shook his head to clear it. That was not something he wanted to contemplate and besides there was still something unsaid between him and Tiffany.

“I doubt anything would have developed between our Kirsty and Trevor,” he said after taking another sip of his milkshake. “Clearly he wasn’t her type. He was a cad who thought stalking and harassing a woman would make her turn to him for protection.”

“That’s incel behavior,” Tiffany said after taking a huge gulp of her milkshake. “Dude was not just sus, but entitled.”

“Er…yes,” Elliot understood most of that sentence. Then he said what he’d been reluctant to say, something he knew they had both been thinking. “But the next man might succeed.”

Tiffany’s face fell and he felt his heart drop into his stomach just saying the words aloud.

“Kirsty’s great,” Tiffany mumbled. “She’s pretty and smart and kind. Other guys besides Trevor have noticed and a few of them might not be creepers.”

They were silent, just sipping their beverages. Kirsty was the most “normal” in their little family. She could find proper love, build a real family or have a career she deserved. They could be left behind. Well, he would be. No sane husband would let a grown man like Elliot live under the same roof as his wife; he would be regarded as strange or competition. There was a slight chance he and Kirsty and whoever she married might be able to form a polyamorous relationship but he doubted it. Who wouldn’t want someone as wonderful as Kirsty all to themselves?

Tiffany would probably fare better. She was a sweet, clever girl and Kirsty saw her as a little sister. Elliot could easily imagine Kirsty telling anyone who wanted to marry her “love me, love my sister”. Tiffany would have a home until university at least.

Elliot and Tiffany looked at each other and shared a moment of understanding. A man from the past and a youngster from modern times shared a common fear; Kirsty leaving them behind. The family would become broken.

He impulsively grabbed Tiffany’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Kirsty would never abandon you. She loves you.”

That made her smile. “She loves you too.”

Neither of them said what they were thinking. For now.

*****

Two days later Tiffany and Elliot decided to enact their plan B. Well, it was originally Kirsty’s plan but they didn’t want her involved for now. She had a term paper due.

The first part of the plan called for Tiffany to nick Kirsty’s phone and send a message to the class group chat. She claimed she knew who the harasser was and decided to meet the person at a certain spot on campus at a certain time. She would show her evidence and give them a choice between having charges filed or leaving her alone and remaining anonymous.

Tiffany and Elliot waited on the outer edge of an unused fountain near the art building with beverages and snacks to keep them occupied as they watched for their quarry to arrive.

He did not disappoint. His predictability would be amusing in any other situation but he’d harassed their Kirsty and threatened Tiffany. Under the circumstances, they were being shockingly nice.

“Look, Kirsty, let me explain-” his whiny attempt to save himself was cut off and he glared at them. “Oh, it’s just you assholes.”

Tiffany fiddled when her phone then set it down to cover her ears. “Language!” she admonished Trevor with mock outrage. “There’s a child present!”

Elliot looked Trevor over. He was trying to be commanding and in control of the situation. Captain Spencer had survived four years of the bloodiest war fought in the past century and a half and had spent one hundred years as the high priest of Hell. Gooden’s attempts to dominate were laughable.

“Hello, Trevor,” he said after looking the other man up and down with an amused smirk on his face. “You seem none the worse for wear.” He crossed his legs and then put his hands on his knee. “You’re welcome by the way, for the rescue.”

Trevor just sneered. “A rescue I wouldn’t have needed if you hadn’t had your accomplice hit me over the head and chain me up.” He shook his head. “Where the hell did you find that guy anyway? Is he Kirsty’s ‘darling’ ?”

Elliot shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’d be much more interested-” he cut Trevor off before he could say anything. “-in what you were doing at a high school. Tiffany’s high school, to be exact,” he said with a nod at Tiffany.

“You were lucky Elliot didn’t report you and just let you go. I mean,” she shrugged, “you were trespassing on school grounds. He could have had you arrested, you know. Perverts these days.” She shook her head in mock disgust.

Trevor scoffed. “He was there too,” he jabbed a finger at Elliot. “So what does that make him?”

“Tiffany’s cousin and her guardian,” Elliot told him in a voice that could freeze boiling water. “I am both her emergency contact and an authorized pick-up person. You however are not.” He nodded at Tiffany. “She called me and asked her to pick her up because she thought someone was following her.”

Trevor opened his mouth a few times but nothing came out. He stared at the two of them who stared back. Their cold blue eyes and expressionless faces made them look very much alike at the moment and erased Trevor’s doubts. These two were definitely related. And united in their dislike of him.

He was afraid but couldn’t back down. “I’m wasting my time. You two clearly don’t know shit.”

He was about to leave, confident he had the last word when Tiffany spoke up. “Kirsty saw you.”

Trevor whipped back around. “What?!”

“She saw you at the mall buying a new phone from that friend of yours. Brent, right? According to the lady who works the pretzel stand, you’re there every few days buying a new phone.” Tiffany raised a shoulder in a half-shrug. “She thinks you’re a dumbass who keeps losing your phone. Kinda suspicious.”

Trevor stopped and looked them both over. It was clear he was wondering how much either of them knew.

Elliot didn’t want to talk to this sod any more than he had to so he delivered the coup de gras. “We removed the tracker you put on Kirsty’s vehicle, Trevor.” He tsked as Trevor’s eyes widened. “Rather careless of you to leave fingerprints all over it.”

“That wasn’t me! Brent installed the damn thing! I thought he was gonna be careful-” he broke off as he saw the triumphant grins. He glared, knowing he was caught. Then he noticed Tiffany was playing with her phone again. “Are you recording me, you little bitch?!” She put her phone down her blouse and Elliot stood in front of her to keep Trevor away from her. Trevor backed away when he saw the deadly look on Elliot’s face but kept grinning.

“That’s illegal,” Trevor thought he had leverage. “You’re not supposed to record someone without their knowledge unless you’re a cop and have a warrant.”

“No it isn’t.”

Both men turned at the sound of the new voice. Tiffany peeked out from behind Elliot to look at the new person and smiled in relief.

Kirsty approached them. Her hair was a glorious halo of curls with the afternoon sun setting them alight behind her. The trench coat she wore over a patterned vest and tailored pants flared out behind her like a cape. Elliot was sure he wasn’t the only person staring at her.

Even Trevor swallowed several times before trying to speak.” “Kirsty-” he barely croaked out her name.

Kirsty smiled back but it wasn’t friendly. It was of a mountain lion who knew she had her prey trapped. “It’s not illegal to record someone without their consent in a public place if they are visible and audible, especially if they don't have reasonable expectations of privacy. I looked it up. It would only be illegal if we were somewhere private. Besides,” she held up her own phone. “Tiffany wasn’t recording you. She had her phone on speaker the whole time. “I, on the other hand, was recording you.”

Of course Trevor was so arrogant he thought he could somehow talk his way out of the situation. “Look, I’m sure you’re just confused about what you saw. I’m sure you just mistook me for someone else and it’s all just a huge misunderstanding.”

Kirsty rolled her eyes and ignored him, addressing Elliot and Tiffany instead. “And look at that! He’s even gaslighting me too. He actually thinks I’m dumb enough not to believe my own eyes. Or the tracker I took off my car. Good job incriminating yourself, Gooden.” She smirked at him. “And implicating your best bud? Way to throw him under the bus. I bet he’d tell the cops it was all your idea; both the tracker and the burner phones. All to cut a deal.”

Trevor sputtered. His strategy had failed. The woman he was after was not only not interested but could put his ass in a sling and send him to jail. That shithead she lived with and their baby bitch too, they’d planned all this together. He’d fallen into their trap.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Trevor.” Kirsty refused to let him talk. “You’re going to withdraw or transfer, I don’t care which, to another school out of state. You can tell everyone you had a family emergency or some shit, I don’t care. In exchange,” She talked over him. “Tiffany doesn’t tell her school about you trespassing and stalking her like a pervert. I don’t report the tracker and the harassing phone calls. And my dearest friend,” she smiled at Elliot and he nearly melted. “Won’t gut you alive and throw you in a vat of acid.”

“I never thought of acid,” Elliot smirked at the look of terror on Trevor’s face. Oh, how he missed his tools. Not that he needed them at the moment. Kirsty was a magnificent sword and shield.

Trevor made a last ditch effort to hurt them. “Oh yeah? Well, what if I went to Immigration about your dear friend here?” He was almost snarling. “I bet his visa’s about to run out. It’d be a shame if poor little Tiffany’s only family was deported.”

Tiffany nearly launched herself at him. “You bastard!” Elliot barely held her back. “Language, pet.”

Kirsty seemed unconcerned. “Eh, I could just marry him. Then he can get a green card and work on his citizenship.”

Trevor shook his head in disbelief. “A fake marriage? Really? This guy matters to you so much? He’s not even your real family.”

“He would be if we got married,” Kirsty reminded him. “And who said anything about a fake marriage?” She winked at Elliot, who couldn’t help but stare back as she pushed past Trevor to wrap one of her arms around Elliot’s waist and declare, “If I had a husband as charming and sweet as Elliot, I’d fuck him every day of the week and twice on Sundays.”

Tiffany started to cough in surprise. Elliot stared at Kirsty like a gormless idiot. “Er…thank you, my dear. I think.”

Kirsty laughed. “Hey, you might be a little older than me but that just means you know what you want and you’re ready to settle down. Nothing wrong with that.” Her hand slipped down and she pinched him lightly on the arse, making him yelp. “And there’s a lot to be said for experience.” She looked at Trevor with contempt. “Most guys my age couldn’t find the clitoris with a GPS.”

Tiffany fell off the edge of the fountain. They all turned to her as Elliot helped her to her feet. “I’m okay!” she let them know.

“Think about it, or prepare to have your life ruined, Trevor.” Kirsty’s tone was final. She looked at Tiffany and Elliot. “Time to go, fam.”

As they walked towards Kirsty’s car Elliot couldn’t help but say what he was thinking.

“Only twice on Sundays?”

Tiffany stumbled.

#kirsty cotton #hellraiser #domestic fluff #tiffany is their daughter/little sister #i don't know what i'm doing #badass family #captain elliot spencer

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