Chapter 23 #2
One hand cupped the back of her head, fingers gently massaging at her scalp, the other there on her back, keeping her tight to me, our chests pressed together.
I could feel her shaking against me. It had me holding her tighter, squeezing at her, trying to be firm and gentle all at once, and Jesus fucking Christ, he was a dead man.
That was it. I had waited long enough. He was gonna die, and I was the one who was gonna be responsible for taking his life.
“I’ve got you, okay?” I said. “I do. I’ve got you and I always will, and this time, I’m not going anywhere. I promise. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore, sweet girl. No one.”
She sighed again. Soft, shaky, pained. I wanted to take all that pain away.
The visions kept hitting me. Him bruising her body, pulling at her hair, not treating her like fucking glass—the way she was meant to be treated.
My poor fucking girl, trapped in a castle that was designed to make everyone else happy but her.
She pressed her face to my chest tighter, like she needed me closer, and my hand stayed there against her back, the other still cupping the back of her head, my fingers dancing through her thick locks.
“You’re safe with me,” I said. “He’s never gonna lay another finger on you again, okay? I’m gonna take care of this for you. I am, baby. I promise. I’m getting you outta here. You’re gonna be safe with me. I’m not letting anyone hurt you. I’m not.”
I felt her nod against my chest. It was silent in the living room as we stayed locked to each other, and I wondered how many times Juliette had been hit and thrown around in the very spot we were in.
How many times had he pushed her to the floor, right where I had been standing all those times I snuck into her place? In my head, he was dying. He was bleeding out in front of me. He was begging me to stop, to ease up, to let him go. In my head, he was dead.
Juliette fidgeted, her big wet eyes peering up at me. “Bridger, I’m sorry,” she said, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything that happened. They didn’t give me a choice. They made me do it. After you went to prison, they made me.”
“Made you do what?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “Made me marry him.”
“What do you mean?” My head shook. “What do you mean they made you?”
“They…” She breathed out, all shaky and uneven.
“They told me they’d throw me out of the house if I said no.
I had… Bridger, I had no money. I had nothing.
Everything was theirs, not mine. Money, clothes, home, everything.
I didn’t have a cent. I was eighteen and if I said no I’d have no roof over my head and I was so scared and alone and they…
They… You must hate me so much. I’m sorry. ”
“I don’t,” I whispered. “I don’t hate you. Could never fucking hate you, Juliette. Never.”
Her form was small against mine as she hid her face in my chest again. My lips pressed to the top of her head, inhaling, letting that sweet scent of hers take over. Honey and cinnamon. Pretty. Familiar. Home.
I could have sworn I felt everything I used to feel with her all at once.
All the good times. Every date and every glance.
Every kiss and touch. She should have always been mine, and I should have always been hers, but there her parents went, hurting her in the worst way they could.
Trapping her, caging her. My sweet girl had been forced to deal with someone so cruel and unkind.
“I can’t keep doing this,” she said. “I can’t. I can’t be here, Bridger, I can’t, not after this, not after you.”
“You’re not going back to him.” I kept kissing at her head. “You’re mine again. Not his. Fuck, baby, you weren’t ever his. You were always mine. From the second I saw you, you were mine.”
“They kept us apart. All of them. Everyone. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. You didn’t hurt me. You would never hurt me. I should have known you would never hurt me.”
“It’s okay.” I nodded, fingers gently scratching at the back of her head. “They lied to you, sweetheart. Not your fault. It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not mad at you, baby.”
“You’re the only person I could ever love.”
“You’re the only person I could ever love too.”
“I just wanna be yours forever, Bridger,” she said, a choked whimper leaving her lips. “Just yours. Not his. No one else’s. Just yours.”
“You are mine, baby. You are. And I’m yours. I’m all yours. You’ve got every last part of me. Always will.”
My heart was racing, ears filled with the sounds of Juliette’s painful cries.
The sound angered me. It stalled me. She was keeping me grounded, keeping me from going over there and slitting his throat wide open.
I imagined doing that as I held Juliette.
As I kept her crying form as close to mine as I could get her.
“I’m…” she let out with a little sob. “I’m so scared of him. I hate it. I hate how scared I am of him. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know, Bridger.”
I knew. There was an easy solution. I was gonna kill him. He was gonna die. I was gonna bury his pathetic fucking body so deep in the ground no one would ever find him.
“Just wanna be yours, Bridger.” She sniffled. “Just wanna be yours forever. Yours. Just yours. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Yeah, princess?” I finally let out, voice strangled. It was the anger. It had me seeing red. My heart was still beating too hard and fast in my ears, but Juliette kept me from bolting into that kitchen and taking a knife to his throat. “You just wanna be mine, huh?” I asked.
“So bad.”
I breathed. Finally, I breathed, my throat dry and tight and painful. “I just wanna be yours too,” I said.