Page 108 of Her Dom's Secret Past

Chapter Thirty

Anabelle

Could I be any happier?

I doubt it. John surprised me at Christmas by collaring me. It was really beautiful, He’d filled the dungeon with candles and spoke. His vows were so moving and I hoped I could say the right things as I managed to answer him. As soon as he held out the collar, I knew what was happening. I’d read about collars and the ceremonies that happen, and I knew what was appropriate to say. But I had to admit to getting very choked up, I found it hard to speak at first.

Oh God, I loved that man!

It made Christmas Day perfect with our wonderful friends.

My body had healed and I thought my mind had as well. I no longer saw the police counselor, and I was feeling very good mentally about what had happened. I could actually speak or think about it rationally now and not burst into tears each time. It would never leave me, I knew that, but the fear and terror had receded into the background. Knowing they were dead was a big part of my healing—I had to beg forgiveness to The Buddha for that, but I was only human.

I thought John had the harder time dealing with it. He blamed himself and nothing anyone could say would convince him otherwise. It was like this dark specter hanging over our happiness. He didn’t say much, but it was always there in the background, lurking despite me saying I didn’t blame him on several occasions.

Finally, I’d had it out with him. I’d accepted what had happened and he needed to as well. We talked all about it and I was shocked when he broke down sobbing.

“I’m your protector. I was supposed to keep you safe! I didn’t!”

“Dearest, it isn’t your fault. No one could possibly have known what would happen.”

“I should have. When you told me someone was following you, I should have known. I shouldn’t have accepted it was Baines, I should have realized there was more to it. I should never have left your side. This was definitely all my fault.”

He burrowed his face in his hands, sobs wracking his body. I felt helpless.

“John. Dearest, please look at me.”

Finally, he lifted his tear-swollen face.

“Who rescued me?”

He shrugged and I persisted. “Who?”

“I had help.”

“But who pulled strings? Who was with Dean? Who stayed at my side the whole time in the hospital?”

“I did.”

“That’s right. Tell me truthfully. If you hadn’t been there, would I be alive?”

Tears were streaming down his face and now I was crying too.

“I don’t know, I honestly don’t know. Probably not.”

“You forced their hand, made them go in when they did.”

“Yes.”

Brutally I said, “John, they were about to rape me and then they were going to kill me—slowly and painfully. You stopped that. You saved me.”

He flinched, his face ashen, as I spoke, but he nodded.

“You know I’m right. You know there was no way you could have predicted what would happen, that I would be kidnapped.” I took his hands. “You know, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“Then accept it happened and let’s move on. I’ve never blamed you. You are my protector. You are the person who saved me.”

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