Page 31 of Entrapped
"I want to buy my parents a home. It won’t cost much," I said, my voice small, hesitant.
Colson’s expression darkened, the brief moment of tenderness gone as quickly as it had appeared. "You already gave them plenty," he growled.
I flinched at the harshness in his voice, the sudden shift in his demeanor. This was the man I had married, the man who always kept me guessing, never fully letting me in.
“And they deserve so much more,” I insisted, the frustration bubbling up inside me.
Colson leaned forward, his face emerging from the shadows cast by the dim light. His expression was sharp, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of calculation and something darker. “They let you go for so little,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain.
I clenched my jaw, a wave of anger washing over me. “I didn’t discuss what they wanted. I just knew.”
He let out a low, mocking chuckle. “Is that what you tell yourself? That you knew what was best for them? Or is it that you didn’t want to ask, because you were afraid of what the answer might be?”
His words stung, each one like a needle piercing my carefully constructed armor. “They’re my family, Colson. I know them better than anyone. They didn’t ask for anything because they didn’t want to burden me.”
“Or maybe,” he continued, his voice softening to a dangerous whisper, “they knew you had nothing to offer. You were just a small-town girl, Josephine. You had nothing, and they knew it.”
I stood up, the sudden motion causing the leather couch to creak beneath me. “And now? What about now? I have the means to give them everything they’ve ever wanted. I can make sure they’re taken care of.”
Colson leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “And at what cost? Do you think you can just throw money at them and solve all their problems? Is that how you plan to absolve yourself of whatever guilt you’re carrying?”
I had no idea what he meant by guilt. I had nothing to be guilty for. As a child, I knew we didn’t have much and I didn’t ask for anything just as my brother did. We were well aware how tight finances were.
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “I just want to do something good for them. Is that so wrong?”
He smirked, a cold, calculating smile that made my stomach twist. “It’s not wrong, Josephine. It’s just naive. Money changes everything. You think you’re helping them, but you’re really just binding them to you. And what happens when they start to resent you for it?”
My hands trembled as I tried to hold onto the anger that had fueled me just moments before. “You don’t know them like I do. They won’t resent me. They’ll be grateful.”
His eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a near growl. “Gratitude is fleeting. Remember that. I knew your father growing up, the anger he felt after his father lost everything.”
This was my chance to ask. I stood there, my mind racing, trying to find the right words, the right response that would shut him down, that would prove him wrong. But nothing came. The truth was, Colson was right about one thing—money did changeeverything. And I was terrified of what that change might mean for me, for my family, for everything I thought I knew.
“I don’t care,” I finally said, my voice stronger than I felt. “I’m going to do this for them. And you can’t stop me.”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just watched me, his gaze penetrating, as if he were trying to see through me, to peel back the layers I’d built up over the years. “Do what you want, Josephine but I control your funds, and I will need to approve any purchases over five thousand dollars.” he said at last, his voice cool and detached.
I turned on my heel, my heart pounding as I made my way to the door. Just as I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.
I walked out of his office, the door closing softly behind me, but the tension in the air lingering like a storm cloud. I knew I was stepping into uncharted territory, but for the first time, I felt a spark of defiance. If Colson wanted to play games, I was ready. This time, I wouldn’t back down.
I couldn’t sleep, my mind restless as I tossed and turned, trying to find some peace in the tangle of sheets. The clock on the nightstand glowed with an ominous 2 a.m., mocking my insomnia. When I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door and felt the shift in the mattress, I knew Colson had finally come to bed. I closed my eyes, feigning sleep as he settled beside me. His presence was familiar, almost comforting, even when I was angry with him.
He moved closer, molding his body to mine, the warmth of his chest seeping through my thin nightgown. His hand brushed my hair aside, his fingers gentle as he tucked it behind my ear. I felt his lips press against the nape of my neck, a soft, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down my spine.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “You make me feel things I haven’t since Poppy, and that frightens me because it makes me vulnerable.”
His words hung in the air, and despite everything, I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Vulnerable. Colson Ashworth, the man who seemed impervious to everything and everyone, was admitting vulnerability. And it was because of me.
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I nestled into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back. I was beginning to crack the facade, the carefully constructed exterior he showed the world.
Perhaps it was because of what Simone had done to me, the scare she’d given us both. Or maybe it was simply that he was starting to enjoy the idea of having a permanent partner again, even if that partner was me.
As I lay there, wrapped in his arms, I wondered if this was what I wanted—a man who could love me, but only as a replacement for the woman he truly cared about. The thought gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside. For now, I would take what I could get. After all, Colson Ashworth didn’t give pieces of himself easily, and if this was what I had to work with, I’d find a way to make it enough.
I fell asleep in Colson's embrace, his strong arms wrapped around me like a shield. But in the dark hours of the night, I woke, disturbed by a dream that left my mind spinning and my body restless. I laced my fingers through his, seeking comfort in his touch, and snuggled closer, deliberately pressing my hips against him. The unmistakable hardness of his erection met me, and even in his sleep, Colson was a man driven by his desires.
A low, primal growl rumbled from his chest. "You're playing with fire."
