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I grip onto the steering wheel until my knuckles turning white. Every single thing she’s said is true, and that hurts, it hurts worse than a fucking kick to the balls. I’ve reasoned with myself for years, trying to tell myself that I should let her go, but every time I thought I could follow through I pictured her with someone else. Married, with kids, happy and in love, and I lost it. I knew if she was going to be with anyone it would be me. Call me selfish but she was mine, always has been and always would be. Even when I pushed her away to protect her, I knew deep down that one day we would be together again.
“I expected better of you, Luke!” My father screams, slamming his fist down on the wooden desk. “Did you really think you could run away with that whore?” He spits in my face, his features filling with disgust, so much disgust it’s almost frightening. “Did you really think you could just run away, and leave all your responsibilities behind?”
“I’m sorry, I won’t meet her tonight. I’ll tell her it’s over tomorrow. I made a mistake and it won’t happen again. Please forgive me…” I try to downplay what Grace and I have. If he knew what she really meant to me, the punishment would be much greater. He would kill both of us without even thinking. If for even an instance he thought I loved her… god, I can’t even think about it.
“Oh, you will meet her tonight, but it won’t be to run away like you’ve so foolishly planned…”
“I’m sorry.” The apology slips past my lips with ease. I don’t apologize, not for anything, but for Grace I’ll do whatever I need to, to make things right. With her there is nothing I won’t say, no fucking mountain I won’t climb.
“Save your apologies. They’re two years too late and they don’t change what’s already happened. I healed my broken heart, and I won’t let you break it again.” Her words slice through me just as a knife would, the pain lancing across my chest, but I do as she asks and keep my mouth shut, partially because I know nothing I say can change what’s happened. I have to earn her trust back, show her I’m still the same man she fell in love with.
We drive the rest of the way in silence, Grace sniffling quietly from the passenger seat, while I white knuckle the steering wheel as if it’s some bastard’s throat. I enter the small airstrip and park right in front of my private jet. She eyes the plane warily and with surprise. Was she expecting me to drag her on a commercial flight in handcuffs?
“This is yours?”
“Sure is.”
“What do you do for work that makes it so you can afford a private jet?” She lifts a brow in question.
My jaw turns to stone at her question. “What I do for work isn’t your concern.” I get out of the car and walk around to open the passenger side. “Now would you like me to un-cuff you?”
She nods and turns so I can take the handcuffs off. I take her hand as soon as her wrists are free and help her out of the car. Her whole body is stiff, and her movements are jerky. I can feel her closing in on herself. She’s trying to protect herself, but not even inside her head can she escape me.
She really doesn’t want to get on the plane, but there isn’t anything I can do about that now. I keep assuring her that she is safe, but she’s so damn stubborn, so caught up in the past she can’t see that all I’m trying to do is make her mine again. Her tiny body trembles as she lets me guide her onto the plane without so much as a word.
I try to coax her into eating something, but she keeps refusing. My phone buzzes in my pocket again and I dread looking at it to see who is calling. I already told Xander I would be in touch. I suppose it could be Ivan with a different job, but that’s unlikely. They coordinate their jobs, never putting too much on my plate. I reach into my pocket and get it out and find Sophie’s smiling face lighting up the screen. I almost decline the call and text her instead, but then an idea pops into my head.
“Grace,” I call her name, but she just continues looking out the window like she can’t hear me. This woman will be the death of me.
“I’m going to answer this call, you can listen, but you cannot say anything. Got it?”
“Fine,” she grumbles, her eyes still on the window.
“I swear if you say something, I will keep you cuffed and gagged for the next week.” I promise, knowing damn well that I’ll do it, though probably not for a week.
