55. Chapter 54
Chapter 54
Maeve Henderson
It's been an entire week since my little incident that scared Leon so much that he felt the need to draw his name on me forever, an entire week where he has stayed home from work to take care of me and watch over me like a hawk.
He takes my temperature several times a day, rectally, might I add, and has done countless blood and urine samples.
If you looked up overprotective or obsessed in a dictionary, they'd say a common synonym is Leon.
I don't think he's let me get off the couch by myself the entire time, and it took several days of arguments for him to let me use the bathroom alone.
Still, it's nice to be considered and cared for.
Leon dropping off my samples to the lab is the only time he leaves my side, and honestly, I feel guilty about it.
I'm sure his patients need him much more than I do.
I feel okay enough to be left alone, but he's worried. He says it wasn't a heat stroke, but it almost was. He says I was right on the border between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. I understand his worry; it could have done permanent damage to my brain and my organs. And with my celiac, I already have a risk to a few of my organs. I don't need to put myself in further danger.
But I think a week of this is enough to resume our normal lives.
I still haven't told Leon about the fence being turned off; I'm scared he's going to think I know because I tried to run. I mean, technically, I did. I ran after the dog, but I came back.
I could have just as easily kept going and knocked on that house's door. I could've asked them to call the police and been done with Leon, but I didn't; I didn't want to.
I saw the house and just turned around and went back home.
Is this home?
Leon says this is my home, and honestly, it's starting to feel a little less like a prison and more like a home. Just like Leon feels less like my captor and more like my boyfriend.
I don't know, boyfriend feels a little light for whatever this is between us, but it's the only title that fits without a ring.
Leon comes up behind me on the couch and tugs on my ponytail until I tilt my head up toward him. He smiles down at me, his hand still in my hair. “How are you feeling, ma fleur? Do you need anything?” He asks me.
I don't think that I do, actually, but when he's being so caring and thoughtful like this, I feel so needy and clingy.
God, what is wrong with me?
Also, why am I complaining about it?
A super successful and very attractive man with more money than I've ever seen is trying to wait on me hand and foot.
There's nothing to complain about besides this collar. Well, that's not even a factor anymore if the collar doesn't work or he forgot to turn the fence back on. "Can I tell you something without you being upset with me?" I ask nervously.
He raises an eyebrow at me but nods. "Of course. Is everything alright?" He asks me.
He rounds the couch, sitting beside me and taking one of my hands into his. I feel the callus of his hand when he strokes my skin. His rough hand and my soft hand just seem to contrast perfectly, but will I still get this level of compassion and care if I tell him about the fence? Or will I be brought down to the basement for a whole different reason?
Nope, I can't tell him. Not yet.
Leon squeezes my hand, reminding me that I haven't said anything after asking if I could talk to him. Crap, make up a lie. Well, no, not a lie. Just a different confession. Easy enough.
"I'm scared you're going to kill me if I don't give you a baby." I admit.
I don't miss the hurt look in his eyes, the one he schools his face and makes disappear just as quickly as it appeared.
I don't want the calculated and precise version of him that he shows the world. I want all of him, the unfiltered version that is only reserved for me.
"Come here." He says calmly. He lets go of my hand, making me miss his touch immediately, but he opens his arms for me instead.
I crawl over to him and into his embrace, letting him pull me into his lap.
This feels better. This feels right.
Honestly, this feels like home. Right here in his arms feels like home.
"I will never hurt you, ma fleur. I didn't love you from afar for months, look after you, and learn about you just to force you to give me children. If my sole purpose was children, I have quite literally far too many desperate women throw themselves at me every day. I could have just had a one night stand. I want you; I love you. I want a life with you, ma fleur." He goes on to say.
I don't really know what to say. I knew all this, well, aside from countless women begging for his attention. I don't think he really needed to throw that in the conversation, but whatever.
Rub it in, I guess.
"Tell me what you're thinking." Leon says, startling me out of my own thoughts.
How long have I just been sitting here without responding to him? It doesn't feel like that long, but it is kind of his job to get people to talk, which honestly surprises me that he's willing to talk at all after the days he has.
Maybe that's why he wants me? I don't say much.
I get lonely when I'm by myself, but I just want comfortable silence with my company.
With Leon, it's effortless. I have his full attention whenever I want or need it, and he has mine, but otherwise, we're able to just exist together.
Leon squeezes me into his embrace more after a few minutes. Crap, I still haven't answered him.
Where is my head today?
"You don't need to brag about all the women that want you. They're probably smarter, make more money, and are more age appropriate." I quietly say.
This butthead laughs!
He laughs at me!
"You're right. I didn't need to say that, and I'm sorry, but I wanted to prove my point. You are not, nor have you ever, simply been a womb for me to use. I want you to be my wife, Maeve. Not my surrogate." He says calmly.
I still don't think he needed to rub it in that women throw themselves at him.
Jerk.
"Is ma petite fleur jealous?" He teases.
I glare at him, crossing my arms across my chest. "I am not jealous, butthead." I say a little sternly, but he just laughs again!
"Do you not think men would bow at your feet if you demanded it? They absolutely would, ma fleur. Half the men on that campus would have followed you to class on leashes if you had let them. Don't ever doubt how drop dead gorgeous you are." He tells me.
The laugh that erupts out of me is entirely involuntary; I even have to put my hand on my chest to steady myself.
Leon isn't laughing; he's not even smiling. Did I do something wrong?
"Nobody is staring at me, big guy. I was invisible on that campus. Go there right now and see if a single person aside from the dining hall staff even realizes that I'm gone. Or if they do, they don't miss me." I tell him calmly.
I don't want him to feel jealous.
Even if I could leave, I'm not so sure that I want to.
Although I would love to rub it in my mother's face that I have the best psychiatrist in Texas on my arm, and I would like to finish school. But I don't hate the life I'm living right now, not even a little bit.
Leon tucks a stray hair behind my ear, gripping the back of my neck until it almost hurts, and my attention is forced onto him. "Everyone was staring at you. Believe me, I watched. Even your fucking roommate saw it. That's why she kicked you out." He says.
I have to stop myself from laughing.
Carlie knew I was invisible; she laughed about it while drunk a few times.
"I know you don't believe me. I was in your apartment when she and that guy talked about throwing you out. She was mad that the only men who spoke to her all night wanted your name." He says.
I wish I could laugh; I wish I could accuse him of lying, but I've never seen Leon lie, and the look on his face is dead serious.
Carlie threw me out of my home because I threatened her chances at hookups.
What kind of crap is that?
I sigh, feeling like I have to be honest if he's being honest. "The fence has been off since that night we picked up the football players." I blurt out.
I see him turn to look at me, but I can't get a read on his face. I can't tell if he's mad at me or anything. Honestly, it's worrying me that he's not reacting in any way.
"How long have you known?" He asks me calmly, but I'm still in his lap and in his arms; that must be a good sign, right? It has to be.
"A week." I answer honestly.
Leon puts his hand on my throat. It startles me at first, but he doesn't apply any pressure. He's simply holding my throat while his thumb strokes my pulse point. "You've known you could run for a week and haven't. The keys to my SUV are in the kitchen. What's stopped you?" He asks me.
I gulp, shifting in his lap until I can stare at him. "I don't want to go. I just want to be free." I answer.