Chapter Nineteen #2
Biting her bottom lip, she slowly takes a seat sideways on my lap.
I set the blindfold down beside me, wrap one arm around her back, and plant my free hand on her thigh, supporting her and holding her in place.
Mira’s weight is light, her build is small, and holding her like this feels so utterly right, I’m filled with a righteous anger that she had the audacity to try to leave.
To try to run away from this. I know she feels our connection the same way I do; her breathing hitches when I stroke my thumb over her knee, and she relaxes against me with a soft sigh.
I muster the anger running through me. I don’t want to rage at her; that won’t get us anywhere.
I want to understand why she did what she did from her perspective, tell her mine, then get past this.
“Explain why you felt the need to go to your guidance counselor,” I say, keeping my tone carefully even.
“I’m sorry,” she says. The words sound like they’re ripped out of her. “I can feel that it hurt you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I appreciate the apology,” I say sincerely, “but that isn’t what I asked for. I asked for an explanation.” I give her thigh a warning squeeze.
Mira releases a long sigh. “Fear.”
“Fear?” I repeat. When she merely nods, I prompt, “Of?”
“You.”
That does not sit well with me. “I’ve assured you repeatedly that I am not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to allow anyone else to kill you.”
“I know,” she says simply.
My frustration mounts. I contract the arm around her back, holding her tighter to me, forcing the side of her body against my chest. I almost wish ridding the physical distance between us could also close the gap of the emotional distance. “Then what are you afraid of?”
“Your life.”
I swallow, feeling my eyebrows furrow. “What about my life, exactly?”
She lets out another sigh. “We’ve already been over this, but I guess we’ll have to do it again.
Your life is not safe. You have some sort of gang war going on that brought enemies to your house.
They shot at you. They shot at me. When I tried to shoot back, Connor’s immediate assumption was that I’m a threat, and he wanted to kill me.
For some reason, I’d just assumed that you’d intervene—when you didn’t, that crushed me, and I got angrier than I’ve been in a long time.
I withdrew, dissociated, did the things that I avoid doing because they’re dangerous.
Do you know why I dissociate and zone out?
” she pauses, glancing at me. I shake my head.
“Because when the noise of the real world becomes too overwhelming, I need a safe space away from it. Do you know when I started to do that?” I shake my head again, and she looks down at her hands.
“When home invaders shot my mother and stepfather full of bullets. He survived; she didn’t.
I dissociated to the extent that I didn’t come back to myself for weeks. ” Her lips pinch. “I was eleven.”
My heart pangs at the image of her at such a tender age, eyes vacant, demeanor withdrawn, her mind in a far away, unreachable place. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not telling you this because I want your pity,” she says harshly.
“I don’t. It doesn’t interest me. I'm saying this to explain. I almost died several times in my youth; one of them was because of a home invader. My mom did die because of a home invader, and I subsequently developed a mental disorder that I have to grapple with every day of my life. My life was nearly taken several times because of my stepfather’s involvement in criminal activities.
You are involved in criminal activities.
” She sucks in a deep breath, shifting her body away from me.
I loosen my grip, allowing her the small bit of freedom.
A deep ache pangs in my chest at the life she’s lived, at the things she’s survived.
It’s accompanied by a deep admiration of her.
“Do you understand why I need to get away from you? From this house?”
“I understand why you think you do,” I reply.
“You’re correlating my connections with those of your stepfather.
Let me tell you now, they are nothing alike.
From my understanding, your stepfather is involved with local gangs that peddle drugs, run strip clubs, and have a dirty chief of police on their payroll.
I do not engage in those activities. My boss is a brutal, dangerous man, but he’s also an honorable one.
The shootout you were present for was unfortunate, an example of you being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Things are not usually like that. I’ve actually never been attacked in this house before.
My legion is currently enshrined in exterminating a dangerous local gang, and we were targeted for it.
The gang that targeted us will be wiped out before they have another chance to pull a similar stunt.
“As for Connor… he sees the world in black and white. Either you’re an ally or an enemy.
A threat or a nobody. A problem or a solution.
He saw you as a potential foe and problem; he doesn’t anymore.
Now, he sees you as mine. He understands that if he has problems with you, he is to come to me with them, and he will respect that.
” Unable to resist, I lean forward and press a kiss on Mira’s neck.
She doesn’t pull back or flinch, which pleases me.
“I understand you’re uncomfortable here.
I was serious earlier when I said we can get a different place.
I know of an apartment building in the city that a few students live in—it’s safe and will get you away from the house. ”
“You keep saying us, as if we’re a foregone conclusion,” Mira murmurs. “I don’t think we are, Dorian. I don’t feel like we are.”