Page 37 of Bound

“I'm sorry.” Those were the only words I could find, and I felt stupid for even saying that. It was an automatic response, the two words everyone says when they hear that someone had lost a loved a one.

I had heard that same comment a million times over the years. After my birth father died when I was little, that was the only response I ever got from anyone when I told them he had passed.

And I hated it. I didn't want people to apologize to me for it, I barely remembered the guy. The only thing I could remember was his face, that was it. I wouldn't say I didn't miss the idea of him, of having a real father to look up to, but that's all he was, an idea. I had no real memories, nothing I could draw from that was my own.

It was like I had blocked it all out because it was too painful to think about. Every boy needs their father, and when he's gone, no one else could ever fill their shoes.

All the shit that was in my head about who he was, it was nothing but a fabricated story that I had heard. My mind put those images there, I had no clue what was real and what was fake anymore.

“Don't be,” Picking at her nails, she shrugged her shoulder. “I'm not telling you so you'll feel bad for me, I'm telling you to be honest.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Her lids turned to slits, mouth turning down. “You don't care why, so why are you asking?”

Cocking a brow, I rocked my jaw back and forth. “You're right, I don't care, I'm curious. I know what it feels like to lose someone, I've been there.”

“How the hell could you know what it feels like, you don't have any feelings, remember?”

Smirking, I couldn't stop my lips from turning up playfully. “Sweetheart, I have feelings. They might not be the ones you want, but I have them.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that I'm not completely soulless.” Leaning towards her, I rested on my elbow and traced a single finger up and down the blanket. “I feel things, I've just learned how to hide it, and how to bury it. The only thing I can't seem to get rid of is how fucking angry I still get.”

Emery's face softened as her eyes darted between mine. “I can't understand you, nothing about you makes sense. None of this shit makes sense at all.”

“I never said it would.”

“So why does your mom seem so normal? How are you a product of her?”

“She is normal, she's a great person. But, I wouldn't say I really had any family growing up, I've always been on my own in a way.”

“But you have a family, with a mom, and a stepfather, and a brother, it's not like you were completely alone.”

“Franco doesn't count. That man has always seen me as tarnished, because I'm not his biological son. My younger brother was his pedestal baby, he held him so much higher than he did me. I never did anything right, I've always been a fuckup, those are his words. Who says that to a seven year old child?”

Twining her fingers together, she bit her lip in thought. “I. . . I don't know.”

“I was never his child, and even now, he still doesn't see me as anything but the kid who screwed up his perfect family.”

“Porter—”

“No, it's fine. I got into some really bad shit, and it fucked up their lives. That's why I took you, because I don't want my past to come for you too. I'm trying to save you. Can you understand that?”

Her eyes searched my face, trying to peer deep into my soul. “Then why were you so cold towards me last night? You acted like I wasn't worth all this trouble, like I didn't matter at all. How can I believe that you're trying to save me?”

“I know, I just. . .” Taking in a deep breath, I hung my head. “I was just pissed that I had dragged you into this world. I like you, Emery, and I wouldn't have even said a word to you if I had realized that guy was there.”

“Is that why you were looking around like that before?” Nodding my head, I kept my eyes on my hands. Emery leaned in closer, placing her hand on mine. “Why did he try to kill you? What happened, Porter?”

“I need you to know I'm not the same man I used to be, but the men that are after me, they don't give a fuck. I betrayed them in their eyes, so they took something from me. They took my brother. I shouldn't be here, I never planned on coming back, but when my brother was killed, I don't know, I guess I wanted to stay close for my mother.”

Emery parted her lips, as if she was going to speak. Holding up my hand, I stopped whatever she was about to say. “When I was at the bar and I saw you, there was something about you that drew me in. I had to talk to you, I felt compelled to. I wish I could take it back now, I wish I had just let you walk out the fucking door, because then you wouldn't be here, you wouldn't be in this fucking mess with me.”

A small smile tugged on the corners of her lips. “You mean that? You felt like you had to talk to me?”

“You didn't bump into me by accident.” Chuckling, I scrubbed my jaw. “I had been watching you all night.” Bouncing my hand in the air, I arched a brow. “But not in a stalker kind of way, I just mean I couldn't take my eyes off of you, you're so damn beautiful. And that ass. . .” Biting my knuckles, a deep throaty growl hit the back of my throat.

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