28. Own me
Own me
Elena
I’d forgotten just how hot and dry late summer in Montana is. Dust clouds drift across the prairies and leave thin layers everywhere inside the house.
It’s easy prey to focus my frustration on.
The only bright spot in this whole thing is that maybe now my sister will be safe.
Except I still want him, too.
I can’t get the feel of his touch out of my head, no matter how hard I scrub the bottom of the sink.
He was focused only on me. And I believe him when he said that.
Because in those moments, I felt it.
Did I screw this up? Is it wrong that I don’t want to share him with anyone?
Including my fucking mother.
It almost makes me more mad at her. She’s the one who messed all of this up. She ran away from a man who could have taken care of her.
I know Wade well enough to accept that he would have done anything to protect her.
What would my life have been like if he had been a part of it this whole time? Obviously his and mine relationship would be very different.
But I probably wouldn’t have had to struggle like I did.
Cynthia would be safe. Loved.
Damn it, Mom.
I didn’t do this, she did.
A slamming door from outside makes me steal a glance through the window.
He’s back.
My heart races and my pulse pounds in my ears.
What is this going to be like?
Will Wade be angry like my father when he didn’t get his way?
Panic laces each breath. Should I hide?
No. I’m not my mom.
By the time Wade pushes into the living room, I’m standing in the kitchen, chin raised, one hand resting on the drawer of knives at my hip.
Every instinct tells me I’m safe.
But experience seems to be pushing me to caution.
He pauses, eyeing me warily as he kicks off his boots.
When I see the pizza box, anger begins to overtake the fear and I abandon the desire for a weapon, folding my arms over my chest.
“If I had known you were eating out, I wouldn’t have made you dinner,” I snap testily.
He slides it onto the counter, dropping his hat next to it to reveal his coppery hair pressed into the shape of his Stetson over his ears. “I had lunch with Blue.” His gaze narrows, glancing at my crossed arms.
Then a slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Val said to say ‘hi’.”
Something inside of me breaks.
“Stopped by the bar for a quickie?” I grab his pizza and toss the whole container directly into the fridge.
Who cares if I let it shut hard enough to rattle the glasses in the cupboard next to it.
But when I pivot on my heel, I’m met with his hard chest.
“You don’t get to do that,” he growls.
I blink up at him, my lips forming a tight purse. “Do what? Put away your leftovers?”
“No.” He steps closer, pressing me against the counter and frames me with his arms against the granite. “Act all fucking jealous after you told me that things have changed between us.”
He lowers his face to be level with mine. “You can’t say you don’t want me, then still expect to own me.”
“I don’t.” I raise my jaw. “You aren’t mine. I just—”
Fuck if I can keep my chin from trembling. I try to cover it with a ragged inhale.
His hot breath creeps over my throat. “Really? You’re acting awfully upset for someone who doesn’t care.”
Biting the inside of my cheek doesn’t help to quell the shaking in my voice. “I never said I didn’t,” I whisper.
I do though, damn him. I always wonder how he’s going to like what I’ve made him. There’s a piece of me that revels in seeing his reaction when I flirt with him.
And I like how hard he’s working to help me find my sister. It’s almost like he wants to find her as much as I do, even before knowing he might be her dad.
I want him to want me so badly it aches.
Thinking that he doesn’t feel the same is like being stabbed with the thinnest blade over and over. I try to push it down.
But it’s there. Always.
I’ve never been put first by anyone. Keeping him at a distance is safer than getting my heart broken.
“If you care—” His hands against the counter shift closer, wedging against my hips. He lowers his lips until they’re tickling the shell of my ear. “—then why are you pushing me away?”
He watches my tongue dart to the corner of my mouth. “Because I want to own you, to be your only one. And the thought that I’m not, that there might be a part of you that loves someone else…it kills me and I don’t want that.”
Tears bead in my eyes, but there’s no way in hell I’ll let them fall.
A rumble in his chest vibrates through me, settling in my thighs to clench them together.
“I gotcha. You’d rather accuse me than give me a chance.
” He steps back, taking the heat of his body with him.
“I’m not going to fight you. You know it’s not universal?
The way I—” He swallows hard with a grimace of pain, like his words are made of broken glass.
“— loved your mom is different from how I feel about you. Just like I love that little girl without even meeting her—” His finger jabs the air in a vague direction towards the door.
“—because not only is she a part of Maria, she’s a part of you .
” His pupils swell, darkening his eyes. “So if you can’t accept that I can still feel that strongly about them, yet can put you on the pedestal that you deserve, then maybe this won’t work. ”
I stand there staring at him, chewing on my bottom lip.
Except what if he changes his mind?
My dad left me. So did my mom. She checked out years before she died.
What little family we had in Texas pushed me aside.
No one helped me to try and keep Cynthia.
What if I open my heart to him and he discards me when he finds someone new?
I don’t know if I could handle being that vulnerable, then to be ruined.
His scowl grows with my silence. “Don’t feel like you’re being pressured. Staying here doesn’t require you in my fucking bed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or if you’re so damn grossed out by shit I did over a decade ago, you’re free to go.”
As he walks away, he pulls a business card from his pocket and tosses it on the table. “I found you a place that you can stay for free for a few months. Val’s hiring if you need a job. Once Cynthia is here, you’ll be welcome to visit her all you want.”
My chest clenches like a giant fist is wrapped around my ribs and squeezing. “Are you kicking me out?” I manage to squeak out.
“No. I’m giving you options,” he growls, his hand on the frame of his bedroom door.
“I’m not gonna force you to do anything you don’t want to do.
I can find your sister—my daughter, on my own now and get her to safety.
” His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens on the wood.
“Do I want you to stay? Absolutely.” His voice cracks.
Then his head shakes. “But not if you don’t trust me.”
After he’s gone, I keep staring at the spot I last saw him until I hear the water of his shower kick on.
I was wrong.
My mom didn’t mess this up.
I did.