Page 89 of Liberating Bells
“But if you want your space, that’s fine. I’ll be fine,” she says quickly. “Sorry to bother you.”
She makes a move to leave, pulling the door closed behind her. “Bells, wait.” Stopping, she peers at me again, biting her lip. “Come here, pretty girl. Let me hold you.”
I lift my arm, creating a space for her. Izabel prances across the room to the other side of the bed and crawls under the covers. She snuggles up against my side and nuzzles her cheek on my chest. Pressing a kiss to her hair, I let my arm fall around her shoulders. I breathe in, smelling her shampoo.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I murmur against her head after a moment of silence.
Her hand is resting on my chest, and she runs her fingers through the hair there. I jolt a little at the feel of her fingernails, but she doesn’t notice. “I started taking self-defense classes.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I remember suggesting that while we were in Nashville, but I never actually thought she would pursue it. Maybe she wouldn’t completely object to my suggestion of talking to someone then. “That’s great, Bells. How are they going?”
Her shoulder shrugs underneath my hand, and her fingers make random patterns against my chest, forming goosebumps. “Fine, I guess. I don’t know if I want to continue. We had an evaluation where we had to escape from some attackers last week.”
“How’d you do?”
“Not that great. It ended with me throwing up in the women’s bathroom,” she says with a sigh. “It was supposed to be empowering, but mostly, I felt weak.”
“You’re not weak, Bells,” I tell her. “You gotta give yourself more credit.”
“How can I do that? This whole situation is my fault. If I would’ve just left at the first sign of trouble, I wouldn’t even be in this mess,” Izabel grumbles. “I don’t deserve any type of break, or credit, or forgiveness.”
“That’s not true at all. Look at me,” she doesn’t, so I put a finger under her chin. “Look at me, Bells.” Finally, those blues meet mine, and I see they’re glittering with unshed tears. My heart shatters at her pain, and I wish there was something I could do to ease it. “Toxic situations like this are hard to escape. But you did. It’s only been a few days. Maybe—” I pause. “Maybe you should talk to someone.”
Izabel’s lips turn down, but I continue before she can protest. “Talk to a professional who has dealt with situations like this before. I want to help you through this, but I’m concerned Imight be too close to the situation to be much help. I care about you far too much to be objective.”
She presses her cheek against my pectoral and wraps her arm around my waist. “I'll think about it. I’m not opposed to it, but I’m ready to move on. I can’t keep living like this. I feel like any second, everything is going to come crumbling down. He’ll find me and hurt me—hurt us. And the last thing I want is to have a therapist look at me like I’m a victim.”
“Okay,” I say, my heart constricting at her honesty. “Maybe just think about it. It could help you move past everything once and for all.”
She exhales, and though I can tell she’s still not on board, she nods. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“I know,” I say, tightening my hold around her. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”
I reach for the remote to the TV and shut it off, before scooting down and lying on my side. We face each other in the dark. Her arm is still resting on my hipbone as I lean forward and capture her mouth with mine.
Izabel responds by arching her back and pressing herself into me. She’s wearing a skimpy tank top, so I can feel her breasts pressing through the fabric against my chest. She mewls quietly against my mouth as I pull her closer to me.
I call it quits before we get too carried away, though. We’re not there yet. I know it, she knows it. She has a lot of healing to do before we get to that point, and I’m not about to take advantage of the situation.
Running my hands down her back, I let out a contented sigh. “You know I love you, Bells. Right?” I feel her nod, and she snuggles in closer to me. “Good, don’t ever forget it.”
32
IZABEL
“Areyousureyou feel up to going today? You can always call in another day,” Ryan pleads with me over breakfast.
I take a sip of my hot tea and offer him a smile that I hope is reassuring. “I’m sure, Ryan. I have to get out of this house. And I can’t call in another day, or Todd will have my ass.”
“He’ll understand,” he says, then pauses and grumbles, “I’ll make him understand.”
I place my hand on his cheek, smooth after shaving this morning, and force him to look at me. “Everything will be fine. Mark’s been radio silent for the last few days. I don’t think he’s going to pull anything.”
Ryan clenches his jaw, making the muscles pop out on his cheek. “I hope you’re right. Are you sure you need to go back?”
“Ryan, I’ve been cooped up in this house for four days. I need to get out of here. I miss my students and the sun. I promise I’ll be fine.” I give him a wry smile. “And besides, I have some secret defense moves tucked up my sleeve if it comes to it.”
I don’t know why I’m joking right now. If Mark were to show up, I don’t think I would have the guts to fight him off. The threat of him lurking around is still very real. The thought of goingout still scares me—not that I’ll tell Ryan that—but I can’t stay hidden away anymore. I have to get on with my life.
