You Own Me

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You Own Me Page 10

by Shiloh Walker


  She took it with no hesitation this time.

  Dear Lizzie

  I have a parole meeting coming up. If they listen, I could see you soon. If not, well, we both know what that means. I’m just here another year.

  A part of me hopes I’ll just stay here. As much as I need to see you, as much as I want to walk around someplace besides these walls, everything I was hoping for is just gone.

  I held on to one thing.

  You never really dated anybody the whole time I was here. I put too much stock in that, because part of me let myself believe that you were waiting for me.

  Just like I’ve been waiting for you.

  I guess it would have helped to tell you. I should have sent these letters, even just one. Could have tried to tell you the truth, tell you that I love you.

  But I didn’t.

  If I get out, it’s going to be to find you with this Noel guy.

  If he makes you happy, I’ll be happy for you.

  That’s a promise.

  Here’s another.

  You own me.

  Love, Decker

  Clutching that letter in her hand, along with the first one, Elizabeth bent down, grabbed another, half tore the envelope to get it out. She saw the date, four years ago, before she met Noel. When they were still just watching the calendar, because he still had so much time to go.

  Dear Lizzie… Christmas…snowing outside… I miss you. Next time…don’t cry.

  No regrets, Lizzie. Not for me.

  I’d do it all over again if it kept you safe.

  You own me.

  Love, Decker.

  She grabbed another.

  You own me

  Love, Decker

  Another.

  You own me.

  Trembling, hands full of letters, she went to her knees and looked up, met those blue eyes she’d thought she knew. And she did know them. There were just…truths, she realized.

  Truths he’d hidden. The same way she had.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “I couldn’t keep quiet anymore,” he said, not understanding. He reached out.

  She cringed away. “No. Why do you love me? How can you? It’s my fault you went to jail. It’s my fault you were there that night—that I even ended up in trouble with Hamilton.”

  His eyes narrowed and fire flashed in them.

  But just like that, the look faded and he reached out.

  Close by, somebody said something and Decker shot a look over her shoulder—it was that deadly, dangerous look that would make so many stumble over their feet to get away—and then, eyes softening, he looked back at her.

  “No.” He rubbed his lips over hers. “Lizzie, what happened to Hamilton wasn’t your fault. It happened because he tried to rape you—he hurt you and that’s the one thing I would do anything to stop. You know that. He hurt you…he was hurting you when I came in there and I lost it. It’s my fault I lost control and killed him. But it’s his fault he ever put his hands on you like that. None of it is your fault.”

  “I only went out with him because I was mad at you. I saw you with Jeanette and I hated it.”

  “And I had sex with Jeannette because you were out of my league, but every time I saw you, I died a little inside because I wanted you so much. I couldn’t touch anybody without seeing you.” He brushed the tears away from her cheeks.

  And then he stole her breath as he brushed her mouth with his. “Lizzie, we were kids. I was a stupid fool who couldn’t control his temper…or other things. You trusted the wrong guy. But nobody is to blame for what Hamilton did except him.”

  His hand came up to grip her hip, one thumb rubbing up and down. She felt it through the thin layer of the dress she’d pulled on, felt the heat of his body reaching out to touch hers. “And all of that is in the past. It’s done. What matters is now. Lizzie, I love you. You’ve owned me, heart and soul, from the beginning.”

  Now he pulled back and blue eyes caught her, held her captive.

  She reached down, caught his hand—his right one—and tugged it from her hip.

  Lifting it up, she studied the tattoo there. It was faded, probably from all the work he did with his hands.

  “Chuck Oleander,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Why did you go with that name?”

  His hand remained passive in hers. “It’s mine…sort of. Decker Calhoun, all mixed up. An anagram. Besides, you don’t mind oleander…dangerous things don’t bother you much.”

  If she’d let herself think about it, would she have guessed?

  She really didn’t know.

  “You told me you’d tell me what this was for,” she murmured.

  Now his hand closed into a fist. “I already did. It’s for you. You own me.”

  She swallowed and then tapped on his fingers until slowly, he uncurled them. She leaned in, pressed a soft, open kiss to his palm.

  “Do you know why I came over that day?”

  A hood fell over his eyes. “No. But we need to—”

  Reaching down, she picked up another letter, studied the date. She’d read these, every single one.

  He’d given her these secrets. It was time she give him the other one she’d kept tucked deep inside. “I came over there because I had something I wanted to tell you.”

  Now she looked up at him. “I was nervous. Scared. I really didn’t know how I was going to tell you, but you…you were leaving soon, and I didn’t want you to leave for Alabama without me telling you.”

  Her eyes were intent. Locked on his.

  His heart thudded in his chest, hard and fast, and Decker couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever had this much trouble breathing. His tongue felt too thick inside his mouth and he had a hard time asking, but he finally managed to get the words out.

  “Tell me what?”

  He didn’t remember when he’d done it, but at some point, he’d buried a fist in her hair. And he’d pulled her closer, too. So close that when she spoke again, her lips were pressed to his.

  “My secret,” she said. “I hid it, ignored it, tried to pretend it didn’t exist for a long time.”

  Her tongue flicked out, stroked his lip.

  Heat exploded through him, but he grabbed a hold of it, lashed it down.

  Because this mattered—in that very moment—this mattered more than the need that threatened to eat him alive any time he was near her.

  “What secret?”

  Now a smile bloomed over her lips. “That I love you. I loved you then…I loved you when you held me while I was crying and shaking on the floor, and I loved you when you stood in that courtroom and then told me that you didn’t have any regrets. I loved you every day you were gone and I love you now.”

  “That’s…” He blew out a ragged breath. His head was spinning. Wow. “That’s a big secret.”

  “Yeah. Feels kind of good to let it out.” She slid her hand inside his, teased the faded tattoo there. She’d wasted years with somebody who hadn’t really loved her…all because she’d needed to belong with somebody.

  But somebody had been there all along.

  “I should have figured it out, you know. When I saw this. I should have known,” she murmured. “You own me, too. We belong together.”

  “Hmmm. Lizzie?” His mouth caught hers, a hard, deep, drugging kiss.

  “What?” She was panting when he lifted his head.

  “I’ll take you back inside now, if you really want to go. But I’d rather take you home.”

  “You can take me anywhere you want.” Absolutely anywhere…she thought. Then she looked down at the letters. “As soon as you help me get all these letters. I’ve got years of reading to catch up on.”

  Table of Contents

  Title page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

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  Shiloh Walker, You Own Me

 

 

 


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