Page 33 of Bound

Chapter Eight

Porter

Closing the door behindme, I stood in the hall, staring blankly at the floor. I felt like a fucking scumbag for what I was doing. That poor girl hadn't done anything to deserve this, not a fucking thing.

She wanted to leave, and I couldn't blame her for it. But I wasn't going to just let her go, there wasn't a bone in my body that was willing to send her to her grave.

It was hard for me to try and explain it to her, to make her see how dangerous it was for her now, knowing it was all because of who I was, and what I couldn't do. But she would never believe me. Her mind was already set, the look in her eyes had already laid the foundation; I was just a cold-hearted killer.

The second that car flipped I should have called an ambulance and let them take her away. If they found her, I'd never know. If they already knew who she was, and where she lived, she'd be dead in less than a week.

It would have been easier than what I was about to do, I could have washed my hands of her and moved on.

Except I didn't.

I carried her home because a piece of me felt responsible for her. I wanted to make sure she was alright, I needed to make sure she was safe. And the only way to do that was to have her with me.

I hated that I was acting like I didn't give two shits about her, because the truth was, I did care. But my hatred for the men that were dead set on killing me, and my fucking ego was more important than her sanity.

Without me, she didn't stand a chance in hell.

She wouldn't be in this mess if I hadn't gone out of my way to talk to her. She would be safe at home, waking up to start her day; nothing would have changed for her.

That made me angry, it pissed me off and made me furious that I had been so fucking stupid to let my guard down at all.

But that's what happens when you're flying on pure adrenaline and lust. You don't see the things that can make or break you; and this woman was going to fucking break me.

“Porter,” my father said, causing me to sway on my heels and look up. “We need to talk.” Nodding his head for me to follow him into his study, he walked inside.

Taking in a long breath, I rubbed my face and tried to get my head together. Stepping in behind him, I closed the door and waited for him to speak.

“What the fuck did you do? And why the hell did you come here?”

“There was a deer, it ran out in front—”

Holding up his hand, he cut me off. “Not the fucking car, I'm talking about the girl. What the fuck did you do?”

“What are you talking about?”

Growling, he leaned against his desk, his eyes black as tar. “There's a girl in our home, and she doesn't belong here—youdon't belong here.” Tapping his fingers against the desk, he let his eyes settle on mine. “What the hell were you thinking, what the fuck did you do this time?”

“What are you talking about? I didn't do anything, I met her at a bar, and I thought—”

“You thought what? You thought you'd get a quick piece of ass after taunting D?” His mouth folded into an angry scowl, brow arching high. “You said you were done, you swore you'd never come back here. You promised me I'd never have to see your face again. Is she one of theirs? Is that how you got her?”

“What?No, she's not.” My jaw hung open as my eyes widened, baffled at his words. “What the hell do you think I did? Do you think I stole her from them? Do you really think I'd do something like that and then come here?” My eyes were huge, my mouth hard. “Why would you even think I was taunting them?”

How did he know that I went out looking for D?”

I had been so careful, doing everything I could to keep this secret to myself. Emery was the only person that could tear down the wall, and expose me for what I had done. And that put her in danger, it nailed a target to her back.

Fuck! I did it again!

It was like I carried some fucking black magnet that dragged people into the war zone around me. And no matter how much I tried to fix it, I only made it worse.

Sighing, my father dropped his gaze to the floor, and shifted against his desk. Pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket, he handed it to me. “It was on the car.” Folding his arms, his eyes hardened. “We moved to get away from this, to get away from you, and the shit that follows you. But, for some reason, you just can't help yourself, can you? You keep bringing it back. This is why I told you not to ever come here.”

Unfolding the paper, the note was quick, and to the point.You don't get to walk away, not now, not ever. You and your girlfriend are dead. We're coming for you.

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