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My heart ached.
It was crying out with pain.
It was breaking.
“Then let me go.” My voice broke, but I steeled my back, knowing that this was what I needed. I needed to take control of my life and stop letting other people rule it. “I can’t do it, Op. I can’t sit around and pretend like every thing’s fine. I can’t pretend that I’m okay seeing you every day and knowing I can’t touch you. It hurts, Op. It hurts so bad.”
“I can’t—”
“Let me go.”
“I can’t—”
I shoved at his chest, forcing his hold on me to break and climbed to my feet. He quickly followed. “Please! If you can’t give me this, then just let me go.” My fists clenched at my sides and I struggled to hold myself back from him, but I knew in my heart that this was something I needed to do.
He sighed and scrubbed at the scruff that covered his jaw. “I’ll tell the boys that you’re no longer a club girl, but that you’re still under the club’s protection. I’ll stay away, you won’t have to see me and I won’t use the other girls. Then when all this shit is done—”
I shook my head. “No.”
He frowned. “Chel, there’s only so much I can do.”
“You don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“You need to let me go. Let me leave.”
His face morphed from confused to surprised. We both stood there for what seemed like forever. Just staring at each other.
“No.”
“I can’t do this, Op. I need to go.”
He took a step toward me, his face serious. “No. No more fucking running.”
“That’s not your choice to make,” I said, throwing his words back at him.
I turned and moved to my closet. I sank to the floor on my knees, pulling out a large bag and began to stuff it with whatever clothes I could find.
I wasn’t angry anymore.
I wasn’t upset, or scared, or sad.
I was numb.
Club girls weren’t obliged to stay. We could walk away whenever we wanted, but the moment we did was when the club stopped paying and supporting us.
It would be hard—probably hurt like hell to leave the people who had been my world for so long. But I was done. If he couldn’t show me that he was willing to lay everything on the line and prove he wanted me, then I wasn’t willing to sit around and wait any longer.
“What are you going to do when the Mafia track you down, Chelsea?” He shot sarcastically. “The club can’t protect you if you’re God knows fucking where.”
I continued to pack, shoes, jeans, shirts, underwear. “You said yourself. For me to be safe, it’s better if we pretend not to have something going on.” I zipped the bag closed and pushed off the floor. “Well, now we don’t have to pretend.”
The words stung even me.
“This is fucking ridiculous. Where are you going to go?” He fidgeted, his body rocking back and forth like he wanted to come at me and tie me to the bed so that I couldn’t leave.
“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured as I slipped my feet into my shoes. “I don’t belong to the club now.”
