Page 16 of Bound To Me

“So, can I ask you what made you come back to LA?” he asked as we sat back down.

I sighed heavily. “Um…let’s just say a bad breakup. A really bad breakup,” I answered vaguely. “It happened four years ago.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s a good enough reason.” He nodded, finally taking a sip of his drink. “You still haven’t made me uncomfortable yet, by the way.” He smiled, and I felt my heart flipping around, begging me to run, to save him from me eventually ruining everything.

“Do you want to know why I’m traumatized?” I dared him, taking another big swig of my drink.

He eyed my drink and nodded. “If you’re comfortable with telling me. You’re not obligated to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Is he actually perfect? Fuck.

“My dad killed my mom when I was six, and I’m the one who found her. A man that I had a…relationship with tied me up and mutilated my body. He continued to do so for months. He’s in prison, but he just called me before I decided to move here. He was trying to scare me, and it worked. Now I know I will never be able to trust another man again because every fucking man I’ve ever loved has destroyed me and my life.”

I was crying.Great. Elliott’s face never showed any emotion until he started speaking.

“Jacqueline.” He shook his head, his eyes full of sorrow. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t even know what to say except that I can’t imagine what you’re possibly feeling. And…now I understand why you’re so wary of me.” He cleared his throat and put his hand on the table, as if he wanted to reach out to me. “I have no intention of hurting you, even as your friend.”

My lips twitched into a smile.

“Well, you’re easily the best therapist I’ve ever talked to,” I laughed. “And the most attractive.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth; I was tipsy, but notthattipsy. And I had just told him my whole life story, and he didn’t even fucking flinch.

He looked down at the table and smiled, obviously blushing.

“Have I made you uncomfortable enough yet?” I teased.

“Believe it or not, no.”

I couldn’t deny it anymore—I was starting to fall for him. I needed to run, but my feet were firmly planted on the ground, pointed towards him, and I had no intention of ever turning them.

Then

I started to make excuses for not being able to see Michael. I didn’t know if he believed them or not. I was starting to realize that he didn’t love me the way I loved him. Even in my deranged love for him, I knew I was being treated poorly. Fuck, worse than poorly—he was abusing me. I could only give so much; I gave him my heart, my body, my dignity. And he was right: I didn’t know anything about him. I started questioning why I loved him so much. I started questioning why he even wanted me around. He continued to pay for the things I needed like rent and food, but I wondered if he did those things because he cared about me or because he just wanted me to rely on him.

I had planned on breaking things off when I went to his apartment, thinking it would be the last time I ever saw him. It was killing me, but I needed to leave before things got worse. When we first started our relationship, he told me I would always have the option to leave. Was that still true?

He answered the door with a smile on his face; I thought it was odd—he never greeted me that way. “There you are, my sweet girl.”

He took my hand and pulled me inside, and I realized he had been drinking; I could smell it on him.

He sat on the couch and outstretched his hand to me. “Sweet Jackie, come sit on Daddy’s lap.”

If I do that, I will never be able to break things off.

“Actually, Daddy—Michael.” I stood there feebly as my hands trembled.

I could already see the anger blazing in his eyes.

“I don’t…” I looked to the ground. “I don’t think we can see each other anymore.”

I finally looked up at him when he didn’t respond. His jaw was clenching, and he stared at the floor in front of my feet.

“Please. Don’t leave. Stay with me tonight. I will take care of you.”

I was startled by his gentle tone. He looked up at me with soft, caring eyes—something I had never seen from him before.

My heart ached. This was exactly what I wanted; I wanted him to show me that he cared.

“Really?” Tears pooled in my eyes.

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