Bound Forever

by Hanna Peach

  What?

  He continues before I can speak, “I could see in your face the same expression that you got before you took off to fuck those strangers at Bound. I could smell your desperation, and I have to be honest. It reeked.”

  My lungs crumple into my chest like he stabbed me. I start making little involuntary gasping noises like I have just finished a good long cry or am about to start one. Caden lowers me to the ground and loosens his grip on me.

  His voice gets softer. “I could see the way you were eyeing me up, like an addict eyes up a bag of coke. You had just been through a fucking traumatic experience, one that most people would be lucky not to have seen, let alone have to personally go through. I know you. You’re a good person. And killing someone would affect you − no matter how bad he was, no matter how much we both know it would have been our deaths if we had let him keep living, no matter how you try to justify it. You would be reacting to it. You were reacting to that. You were trying to avoid dealing with it. By using me for sex. You wanted a quick fix, like a junkie, to forget about everything.”

  Caden leans in so close that all I can see is the deep frown that brings his thick brows down to hood his eyes, his jagged bottle-colored eyes sparking with intensity.

  Then he growls out words so thick it feels like he could knock me over with them, “I. Will. Not. Be. Used. Do you fucking hear me? I will not become one of your distractions. Ever. I will not become like all of those other men. I won’t be disposable. Not to you.”

  Oh God.

  “And as for the separate room.” He curses under his breath. “Look at it from my perspective. You just found out that I was a cop, you just found out I was working undercover to bust the man who fucked with your life. You found out that I had to kill an innocent woman to make those sons of bitches trust me. You found all that out less than twenty four hours ago and you expect me to bring you to my home and demand that you sleep in the same goddamn bed as me? What kind of an insensitive prick do you think I am? I gave you your own room to give you space, space that I think you need. I didn’t know how you’d feel about me after you found out I’m not who you thought I was. I’m giving you the option of not being with me if that’s what you want. I’m giving you the choice.”

  Oh.

  He continues, “I don’t know the details of what Jacob did to you. But I do know what’s on your police file and I can fill in the blanks. I’ve put enough abusive sons of bitches away to see how they fucking operate, and Jacob,” he growls, “that evil asshole is the worst. I know that everything he got from you, he. Took. From. You. I will not do that to you as well.”

  “So I’m not just a job?”

  “You may have started out that way but you didn’t end up that way. Do I want you? Yes. I want you sleeping in my bed. My bed and nowhere else. Every night. And I want to fuck you and claim you and make you cum until you can’t fucking think straight. Every fucking night.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I am not taking anything from you. You have to give it to me freely. Your choice, kitten. Your control. You choose.”

  “My choice?”

  “Always. Have I been clear enough?”

  At his point my eyes are watering so much that Caden blurs behind my sight. But I can feel his breath on my face carrying the scent of rosemary potatoes. His warmth just crowds around me like a shield.

  I want to give in. I want to say yes…

  No. It’s not enough. Who is the girl in the photo I found in his wallet? What is behind the locked door? Why won’t he let me touch him or see him naked? I realize that I only have questions… no answers. “Why won’t you let me touch you? Why won’t you let me see you naked?”

  He flinches. “What?”

  “If you really do care about me… why are you keeping secrets from me?”

  His face falls. “That’s not fair.”

  “I found a locked door today.” I push further. “What’s behind the door?”

  He steps back. “This discussion is over.”

  “Cade, I can handle it… whatever it is.”

  “I said discussion over.”

  Anger starts to leak into my body. My heart is resentful for being denied for so long that he thinks he can buy my compliance with a promise of great sex and a few sweet words. “Why won’t you tell me anything?”

  “‘Cause it’s none of your damn business.”

  “None of my business? This is me trying to be a part of your life, Caden. And you’re telling me that your life is none of my business.”

  “That’s right.”

  I shake my head to ward off the tears. “Every time I think we’re moving forward a step, you block me.”

  “I have a professional duty to−”

  “I’m not talking about you being a cop. I understand why you couldn’t tell me that from the start. I even get why you came looking for me thinking you could get to Jacob; that I’ll eventually be able to forgive. But I won’t forgive you if you don’t start trusting me. You say you want me in your life.” I open my arms out wide, laughing slightly from hysteria, but without humor. “I’m here. I’m right here, Caden, waiting for you to trust me. I want to be with you. But I can’t be with you if you don’t stop keeping secrets from me.”

  “I know my keeping things from you has been hard on you. Believe me, I have reasons for everything I do. Mostly, they are to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what? Jacob? Because if you remember I was with the bastard and I’ve seen him at his worst.”

  “No. Not from Jacob.”

  I shake my head. These coded explanations are giving me a headache. “I don’t understand. Who do I need protecting from?”

  “Me.”

  I stare at Caden for the longest time. I study the frown on his face, the forlorn eyes the sadness tightening his closed mouth.

  “Did you hear me?” he asks.

  I nod. “I’m trying to decide whether you’re delusional or just being an idiot.”

  He blanches. “Excuse me?”

  I step up to him and raise myself up as tall as I can. I’m still barely to his shoulders, but I thrust my chin up and glare at him. “I’ve decided you’re being an idiot.”

  “Jesus, kitten.”

  “No… No, I’m not finished.” I take a step back, space. I need to not be this close to him. I need to not be able to smell his wood smoke and musk while I say what I have to say. I steel myself and begin, “I keep waiting for us to become more. I keep waiting… hoping… thinking that if I’m just patient enough, you’ll let me in. That you’ll start to trust me−”

  “I do trust you,” he interjects.

  I shake my head. “You trust that I won’t kill you in the middle of the night. You trust that I’m not going to double-cross you. But you don’t trust me where it matters; with your past, with your secrets, with your heart. It’s not enough that you want me.” I shake my head as I back away from him. “Not anymore.”

  “It’s all I can offer you right now.”

  I think back to all the times we’ve stood in front of each other and had this argument. If I give in to him again and let him hold me at arm’s length, we’ll just end up repeating that cycle. I’ll push, he’ll pull away. Again and again. Over and over. And nothing changes. My shoulders sag and suddenly I feel like I’ve aged ten years. I can’t do this anymore.

  I have.

  Nothing.

  Left.

  “I’m tired.” God, even my voice warbles with exhaustion. “It just hurts too much and I’m tired of hurting.” Even as he strides to close the gap between us I stand my ground. He grabs one of my arms gently and tries to lead me back to the table. “Kitten, just finish your dinner. Then go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  But I won’t budge. A sadness washes over me. We can never move forward if he doesn’t take the next step. I’ve already done all I can, said all I can. The sadness is cold and numbing. It’s hopeless. I give up. I can’t do any more. I pull my arm from his grip and he le
ts go, his face falling. “I’m sorry, Caden. It’s over between us.”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “You’re not thinking clearly. You just need a good night’s sleep. It’s late. You’re tired.”

  “No. I’m thinking clearer than I have in a long time. It’s over. I can stay here while you finish your job. I promise I’ll stay out of your way. I’ll have my meals in my room. You won’t even have to see me.”

  “No.”

  “You’re right. It’s better if you palm me off to a police safehouse. I don’t mind. It’ll be easier that way.”

  “I said no, God dammit,” he roars and I swear that wine glasses on the table rattle.

  I didn’t think he would be happy. I expected this. But I’m ready. I can be strong. I can’t lose myself again. I can’t lose myself in this. I ground my feet into the floor as I stand here in front of Caden. “I can’t be with you anymore. I want too much from you, I see that now. I want things that you’re not willing to give me. Maybe yesterday it would have been enough just to have you, even if we weren’t ever going to go anywhere. But now…” I shake my head. “I’m tired of pushing for something with you that you obviously don’t want to have with me. I need you to call your supervisor, get me reassigned to someone else, get me into a safehouse or something. I can’t see you anymore.”

  His face falls. “You’re not serious. You can’t be serious.”

  My heart hurts. It feels like Caden is holding it in his hand and is crushing it and he won’t let go. “Please, let me go.”

  He reaches for me but I keep moving back out of his reach. His hands pause mid-air, his fingers outstretched and it breaks my heart − no, not breaks my heart, it fucking tears my heart out and stomps on it to see the look on his face when he realizes I won’t let him catch me. That I’m no longer within his reach. He stops moving forward and part of me is glad because I will run out of space soon and hit the wall and if he touches me, God dammit, if that man puts his hands on me I just don’t know how long I can hold off before I break.

  Caden’s chest is moving in and out as he stands there. His hands come up to rip at his shirt then at his hair and his head. He looks lost, so lost. But I am tired of trying to find him. “You can’t just give up.” He sounds desperate, fearful. His voice strained.

  “You haven’t given me anything much to give up.”

  His face hardens. I can see it freezing over with a guarded coldness. He steps back. The safety that shields me whenever he is near falls away and I feel as vulnerable as a naked newborn bird left in a desert. “Yeah. You’re right. We should end it. You’re better off without me.”

  I realize I expected him to fight for me. My head snaps up. “You’re so full of shit. This isn’t about me, it’s about you not wanting to let anyone in. I tried, Caden. God help me, I tried with you.”

  “You did. I guess it wasn’t enough.” His voice sounds so distant. Somewhere deep down I realize that he’s being like this because this is his way of protecting himself from being hurt by me. But I’m beyond caring about Caden’s feelings over mine.

  My body reacts to this frosty response by going hot with anger. “Gee, great coping strategy. Isn’t it so much better to push everyone away so you don’t have to be alone when they leave? Well, guess what, Caden? You’ve left yourself alone anyway.”

  I shove past him and out of the room, my heart crushing with each step. He doesn’t move to stop me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Madam?”

  I lift my head up from my pillow in my room. My room. Where I slept alone last night. Sorry, did I say slept? I meant tossed and turned like a small boat lost in a storm. At least I didn’t cry. I think I may have finally run out of tears. A small mercy.

  Wylie has his nose peeked in my door, expectantly waiting my invitation to enter.

  “Come in, Wylie.” He nudges open the door with the tray he’s carrying. My heart turns to steel when I see what looks like my breakfast on it. So, I’m no longer welcome in the dining room. “Did Caden send you?”

  “No, madam. I preempted that you may want to eat in here, considering that the master is currently being a donkey’s ass.”

  I almost choke. “A what?”

  “Which part are you unsure of? The donkey or the ass?”

  Somehow hearing “donkey’s ass” coming from Wylie’s mouth, especially in reference to that bastard who I will get over if it’s the last thing I do, makes me want to blush. Or giggle. Or both. “I know what a donkey’s ass is.”

  “Just checking, madam.”

  He sits my tray on the small round table. When I make no move to get up, he raises an eyebrow. “Do I have to stand here and make sure you eat it all?” Despite his words there’s a softness on his face.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just not hungry.”

  “Please. You have to eat something.” I don’t move. “Perhaps my cooking isn’t good enough for you.”

  “No,” I protest. I push myself to sitting. “Your cooking is wonderful and−”

  “Then you would prove it so by having a few mouthfuls?”

  My mouth drops open. “Are you trying to guilt trip me deliberately?”

  “I am not above blackmail or manipulation tactics.”

  I shake my head, allowing a sliver of amusement to shine through this darkness that surrounds me.

  Wylie pulls the chair out for me and I sit at the table. I eye the bowl of steaming porridge and aside it a smaller bowl of blueberries with a sprig of mint. Also, on the tray are small pots of milk and honey, and a tiny bowl of cinnamon complete with matching tiny spoon. It all looks so pretty. Too pretty to be eating on my own. And for some reason this makes me even sadder. I drop my chin to my chest.

  His hand slides onto my shoulder. “Madam?”

  “I promise I won’t stay like this, Wylie. Not this time. The last time we broke things off I felt sorry for myself for weeks. I won’t let myself do that again. I just need… a day or two to be a mess.”

  “I remember those four weeks.”

  “You do?”

  “The master was an absolute nightmare to deal with. Made all the other times he got into a mood seem like a summer picnic in Cornwall.”

  “I’m sorry you had to bear the brunt of it. Then. And now.”

  “You should know by now that the master only ever takes it out on himself.” Wylie pauses and looks pensive. “And furniture. We lost a lot of furniture during that dark period. Some lovely antiques, too. Irreplaceable.” He sighs.

  I nibble at my lip and my stomach hurts when I think of Caden in pain. But I can’t give in and go back just so he stops hurting. I have to think about myself. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nonsense. You have nothing to be sorry about. Unless of course you don’t eat at least three bites of that porridge.” I take the hint and start to add the berries to the porridge. “He on the other hand…” Wylie lets out a breath in a huff. “Let’s just say, I’ve decided to start a list.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Caden

  I stare at the maps on the wall and they blur. My eyes are tired but my mind is whirring.

  I wonder if she’s asleep. I wonder if she can sleep. I certainly can’t. I glance at my door and bite my lip. She wasn’t in my bedroom earlier when I slipped in to try to rest.

  Did I expect her to be there? Well, yes. As I opened the door I could practically see her lithe body, warm and soft, tucked under the covers waiting for me. Or was it because I wanted her to be there so badly that I imagined her there?

  She wasn’t there. So I lay in my stone cold bed staring at my ceiling, brushing my hand out to where she should be lying. I felt adrift, like a man lost in the middle of a cold sea.

  She gets angry with me because of the things I can’t tell her. But she always forgives me. She always gives in and comes back. She knows what we have is more important… right?

  I shake my head so these thoughts come loose. Dammit, what’s wrong with me? I need to concentrate if I have
any hope in hell of finding Jacob before he finds her.

  My eyes come to rest on the series of photos on my wall. The others seem to fade into the background and the ones of her seem brighter, catching my eyes. Her, her, her.

  She’ll forgive me this time, won’t she?

  In the pit of my stomach an uneasy feeling rests there. It’s been there since she walked out of the dining room two days ago and didn’t come back. I start to wonder if she ever will.

  How did we even get here? I wasn’t even supposed to get this close to her. But she derailed me so completely…

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eight months ago…

  It’s her. I know it’s her. She looks different but I recognize the petite planes of her heart-shaped face and her tulip-lips. Her hair is longer and lighter. Her body has filled out. Jesus, has her body filled out. I eye her shapely legs in those shorts. The small waist and swell of breasts in her shirt as a patch of sweat on her back and her chest makes the material stick to her. Shit. What happened to the skinny-limbed girl from three years ago? Somewhere along the line, she became a woman.

  I watch from the shadows across the street as she leaves Dixie’s bar and strides out into the night, her walk strong yet cautious, carrying two large canvas bags over her shoulders. I wonder for a moment what she has in them.

  I frown. It’s late. Too late for a single woman to be walking home at night. Especially looking like that. Anyone could be watching her, waiting for her to step out alone in the dark. I know she owns at least one gun and knows how to use it. I imagine it’s tucked away in her purse. She isn’t stupid about her safety. But still… any kind of freak could be watching her.

  I slip through the shadows as I follow her.

  I know everything that’s on her police file. I’ve memorized it. Her stats, her statement to the police about her relationship with Jacob Tyrell and what she saw. But I also know the things that don’t appear in her file. Like the love she has for her grandparents. She misses them, I can tell from those carefully chosen cards that she sends them. They miss her too. They told me so. And besides, they talk about her fondly all the time. They have both told me stories about her, about her childhood and about how they raised her after her parents passed away when she was young. I’ve caught the gleam of a tear or two in her grandma’s eyes when they talk about her. Even occasionally her grandpa.