Page 61 of Bound To Me

“Get out of my restaurant before I call the police,” Lauren huffed angrily at Michael.

Michael flashed me a sinister smile. “You will regret this, Jackie. I promise you.” He quickly turned and walked out the door.

It was then that I burst out in tears. “Oh my God, Lauren.”

She came from behind her desk to give me a hug. “We knew something was off. I’m so sorry, sweetie. We’re here for you.”

I let go as I realized I needed to call Elliott. “Can I please use your phone?” I asked, my breath trembling.

Lauren didn’t hesitate to grab her phone from her desk. “Of course.”

I dialed Elliott and he answered after a couple rings. “Elliott Walker.”

I burst into tears again at the sound of his voice. “Elliott. It’s me.”

“Jacqueline,” he breathed, sounding like a sigh of relief.

“I’m at the restaurant. I just told Michael to fuck off. I’m so sorry; I lost my fucking mind,” I wailed.

“I know, baby. I know. It’s okay,” he assured me calmly. “Let me come get you, okay?”

I continued to sob, now with a sense of relief washing over me. “Yes, please.”

I sat with Lauren in her office with my head in my hands as I waited for Elliott. I didn’t have to wait long, though. I heard footsteps striding through the hallway and he appeared at the door, his worried eyes finding mine.

“Elliott!” I immediately jumped up and wrapped my arms around him. He held me tightly for a long moment and let me cry. I didn’t even realize Lauren left the room, giving us privacy.

“I’m so sorry,” I said as we finally parted.

He put his hands to my cheeks and stared down at me lovingly. “Don’t apologize, Jacqueline. I’m just glad you’re back with me.”

I knew I had a lot to tell him—and I needed to tell himnow.

“Elliott, I had sex with him. I’m so sorry. When I was alone with him, my mind just shut down. I know that’s no excuse, and I’m so sorry.” Saying it out loud only made me feel more shameful.

He only shook his head. There was anger in his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “That’s okay. Because now I get to kill him for multiple reasons.” His tone was devoid of any humor—he was serious.

And so was I. “I want to help.”

Then

“Full name?” the police officer asked me as I sat in an office with her and another female officer; I told them I was too uncomfortable with a male present.

“Jacqueline Olsen,” I answered as I wrung my hands together, then watched her write it down.

Going into the police station was hard enough, but now I was gonna have to talk to strangers about Michael and what he did to me?

“You’re safe here, Jacqueline. Just start from the beginning,” she said warmly with a small smile.

So I started with the beginning. I didn’t leave anything out, even when it stung deep in my chest as I sobbed and told them about him tying me up and cutting me, about fucking me when I told him to stop, about watching in horror as he punched Jack and took Hana.

I was in there for hours, and by the time I finished talking, I was utterly exhausted. The police assured me they’d keep me updated, but I heard nothing—not from them or anyone else. Days later, I saw a missing person flyer. I tried to contact Jack and even Jessica, but neither answered. I was convinced they were blaming me. I feared Hana was dead somewhere because of me, and I knew it was all my fault. Even Billie kicked me out, but I didn’t blame her. It was stupid of me to befriend her just to get closer to Hana and Michael.

Everyone kept me in the dark as I stayed on a co-worker’s couch. I drank myself into oblivion everyday and blacked out so I could forget all the hurt I caused.

Nine days later, Jessica called me. I shot up from my seat in the break room at work and answered immediately.

“Jessica, hi,” I said nervously.

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