Page 126 of The Anchor Holds

He rested his forehead against mine as I fought back tears.

There was no point arguing with him. He was very convincing, obviously having convinced himself. And almost me, had I not been bubbling with self-hatred and blame.

“This man …Jasper.” Leaning back, he spat his name. “He knew about the attack?”

I sucked in a breath that smelled of blood and sweat. “I assume he knew. Maybe not in time to stop it.” I’d often wondered if he had known in plenty of time, if he’d done anything. “But after the fact, he was definitely aware.”

“Yet he didn’t go to you.” Elliot’s nostrils flared, tone clipped. “You were the victim of an unimaginably traumatic assault,and he left you there.”

Elliot was not an angry guy. Nor violent. Up until that moment, I would’ve bet that he was incapable of such emotions. But as we sat there, it coated the air. A violent fury so visceral, it almost changed the shape of his face.

“No, he didn’t,” I agreed.

“And now he’s here, what? Trying to get you back?”

I again calculated what a half-truth might do instead of telling him the full truth. Elliot knew about my involvement with the mob, but he was too distracted with the rape to infer that they might’ve still wanted something from me.

“Yes.” I decided it was best that I make it seem romantic, rather than the entire truth. The truth being the Russian Mob wasn’t done with me. It was better Elliot thought Jasper just wanted his girlfriend back.

“He’s not getting you.” Elliot’s grip on me tightened with his vow. “No way in fuck.”

“No one gets me.” I smiled against the possession in his tone. “I’m not a toy.”

“No, Calliope, you’re not a toy.” Elliot’s eyes cleared. “You’re a fucking treasure.”

His words hit me harder than that punch in the face did, but I schooled my expression, my body sagging under the crash of adrenaline from the night, from telling Elliot all I’d ever tell him.

Elliot noted this, being as physically close as he was. “Go get ready for bed.” he kissed my head. “I’ll tidy up here. Meet you there.”

“You still want me in your bed?” I blinked at him. “After everything I told you.”

His lips quirked. “Calliope, I will always want you in my bed. You can’t scare me away with parts of your life you think I can’t handle. I’ll handle it all. Now go to fucking bed.”

Again, I didn’t argue with him. I was too tired. Too greedy for the scant amount of nights I had left with him. I nodded then walked down the hallway to his bedroom.

I memorized every step, every frame on the wall, the contours of the wood beneath my feet. Soon, memories would be all I had left.

ELLIOT

I wasn’t surprised to see the man skulking in the shadows when I took the trash out as Calliope got ready for bed. I wasn’t surprised because at the restaurant, I’d immediately clocked his intense, possessive gaze on Calliope. I knew then that his seemingly easy retreat was not going to be that simple. Before I’d known the truth of how despicable the man was, I’d realized that he was going to be a thorn in my side. That somehow, he had caused pain to Calliope, and that he intended on causing more because of the want I saw blazing in his eyes.

I also wasn’t surprised because I’d installed security cameras after the shooting, when Calliope started spending every night at my house, even staying on the nights I was out on the boat. Her safety was my top priority.

From what Calliope had told me about Jasper, I knew he saw the discreet cameras that Calliope hadn’t even noticed. That he had purposefully put himself in the frame.

He wasn’t there for Calliope. He was there for me. To scare me, threaten me, I didn’t give a fuck. There was nothing that man could do to make me let go of Calliope.

I didn’t greet him straightaway. I opened the trash lid, threw in the bag, closed it then turned slowly.

“You’re on private property.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Though I doubt that matters to you.”

“No.” He stepped out of the shadows, straightening the lapel of what was no doubt an expensive suit.

He looked like the kind of man I would’ve expected to see Calliope with the first day I met her on the dock. But not since I got to know her. Not once I discovered her fire. Her heart. Her fucking soul.

This man with the dead eyes would never be worthy of her, no matter how much he paid for his suits.

“I figured it would be apt for us to have a discussion without Calliope dominating it. I’m familiar with the way she takes control over most conversations. Most people.”

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