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They say he fucks the wild out of me. He has me on a leash. I don’t know how or why, but he does.
“You’re saying love an awful lot tonight,” I murmur.
“Is that really why you’re acting differently? Because you love me?”
“Because I’m scared to love you.” Before he can respond I add, “To love anyone.”
“You can love me, Ella. I promise,” he tells me. “I’ll protect you, provide for you.”
My gaze drops to the moonlight spilling across the bedroom floor. I can’t look at him as the memories flash through my mind.
Promises, promises. Men give them out like candy. James whispers promises just like my father did to my mother.
Those promises he gave her that she fell for.
The promises he told before he killed her. And before I killed him.
