“Well, let me think of a response,” I pretend to mull it over. “Screw you. You don’t own me. And you’re crazy if you think I’m taking orders from you now just because of this.”
“But you won’t.” His confident smirk is infuriating. He moves to get up and I position myself back in bed as he pulls on his boxers.
“You aren’t staying. I don’t want you here.”
He glares at me from where he stands, one arm through his T-shirt. “What in the hell makes you think I want to stay here?”
He lifts his slacks and fastens the buckle, the loose hair cresting across his forehead, distracting. His business dress is a contrast to the jeans and T-shirts I’m used to, and I briefly wonder which I’d prefer under different circumstances.
But with Tobias, I’m grateful I still feel nothing but hate and lust. And the softness in his eyes tonight with my confessions only angered me. He set out to hurt me. He made sure of it. But he himself gave me the power to remain immune to him.
“Tu me crains autant que tu me détestes.” You fear me as much as you hate me.
I’ve been desperately trying to brush up on my French, and though I’m nowhere near fully conversational, it’s slowly coming back.
He looks down to where I lay shaking his head while he buttons his shirt. “Jésus, toujours aussi délirante.” Jesus, still delusional. “I have you the only way I want you. And your French tongue is shit.”
“Yet you understood me, and I’ve made my point. You’re a tool, Tobias, in every sense of the word. Close the door on your way out.”
I can feel his eyes on me as I turn my back to him, pulling the covers over my naked body. And when he leaves, he leaves it open.
I can feel him.
Everywhere.
And though I’ve washed my sheets, I swear I can still smell the lingering spice of his presence permeating my bedroom. I don’t check my rearview, but I know I’m being followed, my every move being watched, and if I’m honest, I felt it long before the past few weeks.
I don’t bother trying to pull anything stupid. It won’t be long before I claim my life as my own. I’ve started to form some plans for my future and to secure my place in my new life. I have to be smart about every move. With every punch of my timecard, I keep up my end of the deal with Roman. On the day I clock out for the last time, I’ll arrange a life-changing transfer to my mother. As for myself, I’ll make use of the money, but know it won’t make a dent in my state of mind other than the fact I won’t have to stress and worry about how to obtain it in the future.
That aside, I want more for myself than inherited wealth. Every day I feel a little bit stronger, like I could turn this around and try to cover the surface of the scars I’ve collected, no matter how deep they still run.
I’ve been diligent in serving out the rest of my time here without incident, passing on beers after work and gatherings at Melinda’s while researching majors as summer passes me by. It’s a night and day difference from my last summer, but I refuse to dwell on it. Daily, I push away the thoughts of the men who ruled me for endless days and months, and the latest addition to the mix is becoming the most challenging to ignore. It’s during the night when my subconscious takes over and I dream vividly, and the morning after, where I’m forced to relive each painful moment, cursed with the gift of dream recall.
The hangover from them can take hours and sometimes a full day to get through. I allow the burn because it’s my hope it’s a part of healing—that they’ll strengthen me.
Your heart has no place here.
Where I thought I’d been growing wings last year, they’ve all but disappeared at this point. My consolation is that I’m more focused than ever on what happens when Roman’s control clock ticks out.
I consider applying for college far away on the other side of the country, or maybe in a different one altogether. With an abundant bank account and a decent GPA, there are no limits to what I can do. I can start all over, gain my full education at a more reputable school. I’ve only been a student a few months, and though I like school, my education in Triple Falls has been a collection of very hard lessons.
However, my fire has returned front and center, and I won’t stop this flicker of hope, not for anything, it’s my driving force. My only regret is that I continue to lie while FaceTiming Christy and make up excuses to keep her at bay, to keep her safe from my situation. I purposefully deceive her with each conversation, only allowing her to know a percentage of the life I now live. Her new and distracting boyfriend, Josh, is my saving grace. If it weren’t for him, I’d be in much hotter water.