Bound to You: Volume 3

by Booke, Vanessa

  Carol rolls her eyes at the mere mention of Alison. I know if she’s ever in the same room with her again, it’s going to be a clash of the titans, but I don’t doubt that Carol will knock a bitch out.

  “What happened after I passed out? Did someone take me home?”

  “Are you kidding me? Take you home? We were afraid that something was terribly wrong. Nicholas called 911, then he called me, and when they weren’t coming fast enough, he took you to the hospital himself. We were so worried, until the doctor saw you. He told us you would be fine in a week or so.”

  “I feel like I’ve been asleep for days.”

  “You woke up a couple of times, but the pain medication that they gave you for the fall kept you knocked out.”

  “Did I say anything?”

  “You spoke to Nicholas.”

  “I did?” I ask.

  Carol winks and then laughs. “Yeah, you called him an asshole but I think he was just happy to see you wake up. Poor guy, he was such a wreck. I swear, he’s nuts about you. He stayed with us at the hospital until they were ready to release you, and then he helped bring you home. I think the staff at the hospital got so tired of him complaining that they weren’t moving fast enough, so they expedited the waiting process.”

  I blush at the thought of Nicholas making such a fuss over me. He does these unexpected things that are so sweet that I can’t help but want to kiss and punch him all at once. I look down the open hallway, secretly hoping to see him.

  “He’s not here.” Carol grins. “He did mention that he would try to stop by later this week to check on you. I told him it was probably better if he stayed away for a while. I don’t think he likes that I told him what to do,” she grins.

  “That sounds like him.”

  “I forgot to tell you. Miles also stopped by.”

  I sit up, sending my pillows flying to the floor in one hurried swoop. "He was in our apartment?”

  My memory after Miles showed up is a blacked-out blur of anxiety. I remember seeing his smiling face and feeling the familiar suffocation of being around him, but everything else was engulfed into a black abyss.

  “I left him for a moment,” Carol says, eyeing me wearily.

  "What did he say?" I ask.

  "Aren't you going to ask what I said?"

  I look up at her with curiosity. Shit, now I'm worried. "What did you say?"

  “Well, first I said he’s lucky I don’t punch him in the face. Fortunately, Nicholas already did that for me. And then –”

  “Nicholas punched him?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she laughs. “I forgot to tell you that part. He decked him in the face after Miles let you fall. But between me and you, he probably did it because he saw him proposing to you.”

  “Great.” He probably thinks I’m getting back together with that jerk.

  "So anyway, I laid into Miles for a while. I told him that he's an asshole for cheating on you and that he totally doesn't deserve you. He doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you. I also told him that he's lucky I wasn't there when you found him, or else he would've gotten kicked in his balls,” she says, grinning.

  "You said all that?" Tears form at the corners of my eyes. I never thought threatening someone with bodily harm would sound so sweet, but somehow it does coming from Carol.

  "Of course, you think I'm going to let some douche treat my best friend like she's just some toilet he can shit all over?"

  "Nice metaphor," I laugh.

  "I love you, Becca." Carol leans in, hugging me. "You deserve better."

  After a week of being unable to see Rebecca, I’m desperate to even catch a glimpse of those familiar red strands and hypnotic green eyes. I call Mary, my receptionist, to let her know that I'm going to be late to the office. I need to make a quick stop to see how Rebecca is doing. I hope she’s still not feeling sick.

  After repeatedly harassing her best friend, Carol, I'm finally able to convince her to let me come by. I'm relieved to know that I have something to look forward to today. For the past few days, I've been worrying that Rebecca wouldn't come back to work. Or worse, that she'd come back only to tell me that she's moving back to Los Angeles and getting back together with her ex. I've contemplated having Striker keep watch at her apartment just in case Miles comes back, but I'm confident it won't do anything to calm my nerves. I know I would spend my day calling Striker to see if he's shown up, and that's probably not the best use of my time.

  My heart pounds like a jackhammer as I step out of my car and head toward the front of Rebecca and Carol's building. Outside, the air is chilly, despite the large coat that I'm wearing, but as I step inside the apartment building, I feel a rush of heat bloom over my skin. I'm all nerves. Fuck. I can't think of the last time I felt butterflies in my stomach like this. Is this how she feels when I'm around her? I can only hope. To be honest, I can’t think of a better way to welcome the weekend than seeing Rebecca, especially following such a hellish week.

  I knock twice, and Carol opens the door with a curious stare.

  “Hi, Nicholas,” she says, welcoming me in. Her eyes drift suspiciously to the box of chocolates in my hand. I wanted to bring her something, and I’d already sent flowers so I stopped by a local chocolatier shop to pick something up. I wasn't sure if Rebecca was the dark chocolate or milk chocolate kind so I got a mixed box of truffles. I'm just hoping she isn't allergic to anything in them.

  “They’re for Rebecca." I hand her the box and she quickly places them in the kitchen.

  "I'm sure she'll love them," she says, walking back toward me.

  I glance around the apartment hoping to see my fiery assistant, but my excitement fades when I realize that she's nowhere in sight. I know Rebecca is probably resting, but I was hoping to see her up and about. I've been worrying all week.

  "She's in her room," Carol says, reading my expression. “I’m actually glad you came when you did because Miles just stopped by.” The sound of his name has me grinding my teeth. That son of a bitch. What the hell was he doing here? Carol smiles smugly at the sight of me clenching my fists.

  “That was an ugly split lip you gave him," she says, as she gestures for me to take a seat on the couch.

  “Yes, it was,” I grumble.

  I’m going to murder him. In fact, I’m fairly certain I would have the night I found him proposing to her. The only thing that stopped me was the sight of Rebecca falling. Seeing her lying on the ground brought me back to memories of my brother connected to a respirator and lying unconscious in a hospital bed all over again. The anger I felt overpowered any clear thoughts I had. Miles never saw me coming and I took advantage of it. I had been on my way out of a meeting when Mary warned me that we had a visitor in the building by the last name of Storm.

  The blood that had spewed from Miles's mouth is just one of the ways I wanted to hurt him. Watching his hands all over Rebecca unleashed a rage inside of me. It was just his bad luck that he was standing between us.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Carol's voice draws me back from my murderous thoughts.

  “That would be lovely, Ms. Livingston.”

  She heads back toward the kitchen and I watch anxiously as she pours two cups of coffee. The thought of seeing Rebecca feels just like Christmas coming early. I can’t stand being away from her any longer. It's killing me just sitting here, knowing that she's in the other room. Has she missed me as much as I've missed her? Either way, I don’t intend on being away from her any longer. The past week has been torturous enough.

  "Here you go." Carol places a mug onto the coffee table between us and slides it to me.

  “Thank you.”

  “Would you like some sugar?" she asks, studying my face.

  I lean over the table and take the mug. Usually, I'm more than happy to have a cup of coffee, but I get the feeling that an awkward conversation is destined to follow this cup.

  "No, thank you. I like mine black." I watch as she sits herself directly across from me,
as if I'm an interviewee and she's the one who's here to determine if I'm worthy of hiring, or rather, if I'm worthy enough for her best friend.

  Carol's glare pierces me for a two good minutes before she decides to set her cup down and break the awkward silence. I watch as she sweeps her long brown hair from her face and crosses her legs. I can only imagine what kind of boss she would be. Firm? Easy to anger? Or perhaps confident and relaxed. Either way, I understand now why Tristan hired her. She's a woman with a backbone of steel.

  “What’s going on with you and Rebecca?” I can hear the patience slowly draining from her voice as she begins her interrogation. To be honest, I'm not even sure if Carol likes me, but my guess is that she at least pities me enough to let me come see her best friend. Not that I would even let her keep me from seeing Rebecca.

  “That’s something I need to speak with her about," I say, shrugging off Carol's watchful gaze.

  "If you hurt her, I will cut your balls off."

  My eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the threatening promise in her words. Talk about brutal honesty. I didn't expect Ms. Livingston to lay her cards on the table right off the bat, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. She doesn't seem the type to take any bullshit. She's shrewd, but not in a bad way. I think most business people would consider that a quality of a successful person. My father sure would.

  "I have no intention of hurting Rebecca."

  "What are your intentions?" Carol asks, crossing her arms.

  "Things are complicated right now."

  "So uncomplicate them."

  "I wish it was that easy.”

  "I think it is,” she says in a challenging tone.

  I smile. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I hold back a chuckle as she drums her fingers on the top of her leg, waiting for my response.

  "How are plans going for the art exhibit?” I ask, trying to focus her attention on something else.

  "Don't even try to change the subject.”

  "Is that your way of telling me that I need to start talking?"

  "Precisely," she says with a quirk of an eyebrow.

  Carol is stubborn in nature, but so am I. I think she’s genuinely surprised when I stonewall her during her little interrogation. After several minutes of having her give me her best death glare, she gives up.

  I find Rebecca lying asleep on her bed in her dimly lit bedroom. The long strands of her red hair are braided into one long mass that's pulled back from her face. A pang shoots through my chest as I spot small bruises on her arms. They must be from the fall. The marks are yellowing like they're almost healed, but the sight of them makes me ill with worry. My mind goes straight to the memory of punching Miles. I didn’t hit that fucker hard enough.

  I roll the black office chair from Rebecca’s computer desk to the edge of her bed. The chair screeches and I wince at the thought of waking Rebecca. She probably needs all the rest she can get. Just when I think I'm safe to sit, she moans softly and rolls to her side so that she’s facing me. I suck in a shaky breath as I reach over and trace my thumb across her lips. I miss her. My little fire goddess.

  His raspy voice calls to me in the middle of my sleep, and I wake to find Nicholas sitting mere inches from my bed. My chest instantly aches at the sight of his disheveled appearance. What’s going on? The large circles under his eyes stand out, even in my darkened bedroom. I look down to find his tie and jacket missing from his usual ensemble. Today, even the fitted gray shirt and black pants he’s sporting look off, and his hair is styled in a ruffled mess. Despite the shock on my face, Nicholas just smiles in appreciation as his gaze slides over me. I blush. My raised nipples tell me that my sheer nightie doesn't stand a chance under his heated gaze.

  His cool fingers reach out and brush my cheek with tenderness, sending a rush of adrenaline through my body, and it immediately feels ten degrees hotter. His gesture reminds me of the moment when I first met him. My skin heats at the memory of not being able to keep my hands off of his face. He must’ve thought I was so strange.

  “You’re here,” I mumble as I force myself to sit up from the bed. Nicholas leans forward, helping to place a pillow behind me for support.

  After talking with Carol about what went down the night Miles came by the office, I can’t help but feel that nervous tick in Nicholas's presence. He punched Miles in the jaw, and I'm not really sure how to feel about it. It thrills me more than it should that he cares enough to physically fight-off unwanted attention. But I'm also worried that he’s in too deep to safely keep a handle on the reality of the situation. I’m not sure I’m fairing much better.

  “I wanted to stop by before going to the office. How you are feeling?” he asks.

  “I’m okay, my body still aches something fierce.” I immediately regret the words as a grim look spreads across his face. I want to laugh and reassure him that I'm fine, but I have a feeling that it would only anger him.

  “How’s everything at work?” I ask, hoping that the change in subject will erase the frown on his handsome face.

  “It’s strange not having you around...”

  His words remind me that it's been over a week since I’ve been to the office. While the time away from the office, at first, seemed like a blessing in disguise, I can honestly say I miss being useful, even if it means menial tasks, like: answering emails, making photocopies, or running errands for Nicholas. I’m starting to get cabin fever, trapped inside this apartment. I can only watch so many daytime dramas before I want to poke my eyes out. But I'm stuck for at least another few days. The doctor insisted I fully recuperate before returning to work, but I don’t know if I’ll last another day.

  Nicholas shifts to sit on the edge of the bed and I wince at the sudden movement. His eyebrows lift in concern and I quickly smile, hoping to ease his tension.

  “Are you sure you don't miss me because you just enjoy telling me what to do?” I joke.

  “No, it’s more than that.” I watch as a slow grin reaches his electric blue eyes. Liar. He loves telling me what to do. My mind drifts to wicked memories of him bending me over his desk. I hate to admit, the thought of that happening again excites me.

  “When you get back, we have to talk about the gala," he says.

  “Yes, of course.” I’m thankful to have something to look forward to working on. I know it's going to be difficult working side by side with Nicholas, considering his fiancée threatened to get me fired if she even thinks that something is going on between us. It crushes me knowing that his actual wedding date has been set. I know it shouldn't, but it does. I can't picture him marrying a cold fish like Alison.

  "Do you know what you're going to wear to the gala?"

  "I don't know. Maybe a red devil?" I laugh.

  "Very fitting, Ms. Gellar."

  "And you?"

  "I'm thinking Poe's The Red Death."

  "How very gothic of you."

  "It fits my mood as of late," he mumbles.

  Carol's words about Nicholas punching Miles in the jaw comes rushing back to me. Why exactly did he punch Miles? He wasn’t hurting me physically, though he did make me feel horribly uncomfortable. He's probably pissed that he showed up where I work. I still can't believe Miles tried proposing to me in the middle of the sidewalk, or that a flood of New Yorkers didn't scream at him to move, let alone push him out of the way.

  “Rebecca, there’s something else I need to speak to you about.”

  “Okay…” I look up to find Nicholas staring at me intently.

  “I don’t want you seeing him anymore,” he says in a commanding tone.

  I know exactly who him is. I shouldn’t be pissed off that he’s saying this, because in reality, I have no intention of seeing Miles ever again. But it still annoys the hell out of me that Nicholas thinks he has the right to demand anything of me in regards to my personal life. Maybe I should tell him that I don't want him seeing Alison anymore. Right, like that would do any good. It would just get me fired and Nicholas disinherited.r />
  But still, he has no right asking me not to see anyone. I might have a head injury, but I didn’t magically forget about Alison showing up at the office to tell me that they’re getting married after the gala. What's even worse is she threatened me about my job in front of the whole office floor. Why would he think he has any say in whomever I see? He never made threats toward Ken, and it's obvious Nicholas plans on going through with his marriage to Alison. I just need Nicholas to forget about us. I need to forget about us. So if he wants to think that there's something between Miles and me, then let him.

  “I will see who I want to see.” His eyes widen in surprise at my words. A look of disappointment and then sheer anger floods his face.

  “Why do you want to continue to see that fucker?” His words come out clipped. "He cheated on you and fucked someone else."

  "No one's perfect," I point out.

  "No, but anyone who treats you like he did doesn't deserve you."

  “It's really none of your concern.”

  "Where were you going with him?” he asks.

  "Nowhere."

  “Is that really how we’re going to play this?”

  “No, Nicholas, I don’t play games. You do. I’m tired of all of this drama. You want to treat me like I’m yours, but I’m not. Please just go. Don’t worry, I’ll be back at work as soon as the doctor releases me.”

  Nicholas stands, looking wounded from my words. His gaze pierces me for only a moment before he turns and strides across the room. I watch him stop at my door as if poised to say something, but then he seems to quickly change his mind and leaves. I hear the front door slam slightly and the sound of Carol’s heels scurrying over toward my room. She was probably listening to our whole exchange.

  My whole world has deflated to a miserable existence. I leave Rebecca’s apartment fuming with anger. I feel like a giant asshole. Instead of just telling her how I feel, I fucked it all up by telling her I didn’t want her to see her ex. The worst part is now I’m starting to think that Rebecca still has feelings for him. Why? How could she be so naïve to think that he would care for and respect her after he broke her heart? It kills me to think that she still thinks about that fucker, and I could kick myself for leaving her apartment without working things out.