Chapter 12 #2
He looks across the water, back toward the mansion. We’re far enough out that we can’t hear or see the details of what’s happening, but all five of our friends are still there, watching. Waiting for us.
I’m shocked that neither Kylian nor Locke has attempted to get to me. But I’m grateful for the opportunity to fight my own battle and put Decker in his place once and for all.
Sounds of evening on the lake rise up around us as I wait for his response. The buzz of water vessels in the distance. The whoosh of cars coasting down Route 77 a few miles north. The hum of insects and frogs just waking up to greet the dusk.
The soft ripples in the lake soothe me as I scoot closer to the side of the boat and watch tiny fish dart under the surface. When I chance a glance at Decker, he looks just as irate as before. So I poke him again.
“Answer me, Decker Crusade. Am I free to leave your house?”
He closes his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his stupid-high cheekbones.
When he opens them, fire blazes.
“No.”
This controlling hypocrite. Angry, indignant tears erupt behind my eyes. The dull headache that bloomed as I crouched on the floor of the boat in a panic throbs as I try to hold them back—but it’s useless. There are too many of them. They’re coming too fast.
“No, Josephine,” he repeats. “You can’t leave.”
I shove to my feet and stalk toward him, filled with so much hatred and vitriol I feel like I might blast off into space. I don’t even bother wiping away the tears.
Palms out in front of me, I shove his chest, but he captures my wrists and pulls me into his body before I can find purchase. It’s a fitting dynamic for the power imbalance between us.
“You can’t leave,” he whispers, bowing so low his minty breath is hot against my face.
The scent of amber and sea salt assaults my senses, distracting me for a nanosecond from the hatred thrumming through my veins.
“You can’t leave, but not because you’re a captive. Or because I want to hold you against your will, lock you in my room, throw you onto my bed, and keep you all to myself.”
I gulp down a surge of hot desire as he digs his fingers into the delicate skin of my arms.
“You can’t leave, because the sixty-one hours we suffered without you were torture.
Pure, unrelenting torture. That’s how long it was, Siren.
Sixty-one hours. I counted each and every one of them.
It was all I could do—all I could control.
I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I searched and I counted.
That’s it. For sixty-one hours, I didn’t stop looking for you. ”
He pauses, just long enough to glare down at me. He’s staring at me so intensely I’m afraid I’ll catch on fire.
“I would have searched for a thousand more. I wouldn’t have stopped until I found you. For them. For me.
“We can’t go through that again. You can’t leave, because we need you. You belong with us. I won’t let anyone come between us now that we have you back, Josephine—not even you.”
Shit on a crumbly cracker.
Fresh tears well behind my eyes, but they’re no longer fueled by outrage. Why does he always seem to surprise me? He’s fierce and fiery in the way he cares, sometimes to his own detriment. He’s a protector. A leader. A relentless defender in every sense of the word.
On the field. With his friends. And, apparently, with me.
“Decker…”
I don’t know what to say to any of that.
He swears he doesn’t hate me…
I think I might finally believe him.
Concealing the effect his confession has on me, I lean forward, resting my cheek against his LCU T-shirt.
Slowly, as if I’m a bomb set to detonate and his touch is the trigger, he smooths his hands up my back. The warmth of his palms travels through the thin fabric of my shirt, the security of his hold a comfort, when moments ago his hands on me would have felt like a prison.
I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze, willing him not to let me go.
He’s right. He’s so fucking right. I crave the fight. The push and pull. I crave it, but it’s never been mine for the taking. Not like this. I need a safe place to unleash when it’s all too much. Could he be that place for me?
He nuzzles the top of my head, then he dips lower, speaking directly into my ear.
“I won’t hold you captive, Josephine. But I’ll do everything in my power to make you stay.”
Shuddering, I squeeze him tighter, silently pleading with him to be true to his word.
I’m not easy to love. There’s too much trauma, too much anxiety and residual pain in my blood for any of this to be easy. I struggle enough to love myself some days.
My impulse is to lash out—don my armor and rally hard when the world’s working against me. The truth is, I’m too soft to spend the rest of my days fighting. Decker sees that, and though it’s a relief to know he’ll hold me together when I need it, I hate showing him that vulnerable part of myself.
It’s dangerous to be this raw with someone. He has the power to heal me. He also has the power to destroy me.
“You’re strong, Siren. Stronger than you realize. We need you, and we need you whole. I thought bringing you out on the water and helping you get over this quickly was the right call. This may have been a bit too much too soon, though.”
I snort at his half-assed admission. Tipping my head back, I rest my chin on his sternum so he can see my truth, despite my inability to say the words aloud.
This did help. I’m grateful.
I’m also hurt, and I’m still healing. I’m a mosaic of trauma and hope, but I don’t need to explain that to him. No one sees me, truly sees me, more clearly than Decker Crusade.
Shaking his head, he releases his hold and takes a step back. “You’re okay?” he asks.
It’s a question this time. Although he already knows the answer, I appreciate that he’s trying to course correct.
“I’m okay,” I confirm, wrapping my arms around myself on instinct, already missing his touch.
He tilts his head, assessing me. “I really am sorry. I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?” I whisper.
He grips the back of his neck, staring me down. “Take care of someone who desperately doesn’t want to be taken care of.”
My heart weighs heavy in my chest at that admission. Every time I think he has me figured out…
Planting my feet wider, I focus on the gentle sway of the boat as we move with the current. Once I’m sure I’m steady, I let my arms fall to my sides.
“It has nothing to do with want, Decker. It comes down to who I am. What I’ve survived. What I’ve had to do to keep it together. I’ve been on my own for years. I don’t know how to need someone, because that’s never been an option before now.”
With his attention set on the horizon, he nods, but I’m not convinced he understands.
“Bringing me out here like this… You could have explained it to me beforehand. How it might have helped,” I reason, shifting my weight and trying to catch his gaze. “This would have gone down differently if you had just discussed it with me and gotten my consent.”
“And you would have done it?” he challenges with a knowing look.
I slow blink, regarding him and holding in a scoff. This man in front of me may be a force to be reckoned with on the field and among his peers, but he has the emotional intelligence of a toddler.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Getting your way isn’t the point, Cap.”
Scowling, he retreats to the captain’s seat at the helm. Without another word, he stands in front of the cushy chair, wrapping his hands around the wheel and keeping his focus fixed on the water ahead.
I trace an invisible line with my big toe and debate my next move. Should I give him space, or does he need reassurance?
There’s more distance between us now than there has been since before he brought me out here.
And that distance aches. Not because of fear or anxiety, but because of my need to get through to him, to move past this disconnect where he tries to control me.
I struggle against his dominance, and every interaction between us feels like a near-miss.
Slowly, I approach him, and he tracks me out of the corner of his eye, that control waxing—that incessant beast that lives inside him desperate to make me do what he wants, when he wants, how he wants, without compromise.
He cracks his neck, and I see my in.
Crowding his personal space, I press myself into his side and hover until he lifts one arm and gingerly places it around my shoulders.
“I would have done it,” I admit, wrapping my arms around his waist in a side hug.
It’s a peace offering and an indisputable truth.
I rest my head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart just below my temple.
“Maybe not right away. But when I felt ready, on my terms, I would have asked for your help. I want to trust you, Decker. I want to let you in. But if you want to ever move past this sense of conflict, you have to accept me as I am and let me live.”