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‘Move her again?’
‘To another foster home. She’s in short-term placements.’ She sighed deeply. ‘I didn’t want her to have to change places so often.’
Elias read the stiffness in her body. The agony she was suppressing. And he knew it ran deep. ‘Is that what happened to you?’
He felt like he’d been stabbed when she didn’t answer. But he didn’t blame her. What right had he to pry into her painful past when he couldn’t share his own? When he could hardly say anything of how he felt? Because talking about feelings—about history—had always led to hurt. But he needed to do better for Darcie. Now.
‘My parents have an abusive relationship,’ he blurted huskily. He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes as she turned to him. ‘I’ve never actually said that out loud before.’
Certainly he’d never told anyone.
‘Elias—’
‘My father is coercive,’ he said quickly. Needing to just get it said. So she would know and possibly understand why he was the way he was. Why he found situations like this so difficult. ‘He controls my mother. He always has. He tried to control me and for a while when I was a kid he succeeded.’
Darcie stepped towards him, but she didn’t touch him. She just stood nearer. Elias turned his head slightly so he couldn’t see the compassion blooming in her eyes. He couldn’t stand to see that.
‘He doesn’t hit her,’ he said with a rasp. ‘But he’s mean. He yells, berates, rages. So you’re always on edge, you know? But then he’s clever. He manipulates her—twists the facts and makes her think it’s all her fault, that she caused the crisis. He’s put her down for so long, he’s been so entitled and so demanding and...’ He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. ‘I can’t get her to leave him. Iwanther to leave him.’
He wanted that more than anything.
‘But she won’t,’ he said. ‘I don’t think she ever will.’
He felt Darcie’s hand on his arm. ‘Elias...’
He shook his head jerkily. ‘He did it to his secretary, too, you know? Controlled her. Used her. In the end she finally left but it took her more than a decade to gather the strength. He’s a master of it.’
‘And your mother?’
‘He allowed her one child and wasn’t it fortunate she gave him a son? Apparently I owed it to him to do everything he wanted. She was “lucky” he chose her and I was “lucky” to have him as my guide. Don’t you know I’m just like him—smart and successful. I’m a natural leader and I shouldalwaysinsist on getting everything I want because it’s my right, you know?’ He spoke harshly, echoing the brash orders of his father who’d flared up at him time and time again. ‘My birthright—myduty—was to be his heir in everything. I was to do exactly as he told me. Because mother and I would have nothing, and be nothing, without him.’
‘But you left.’
‘I had to.’ And he’d left early, vowing never to be like that man. Never to lose control in the way that he did on the daily.
‘And your mother? Do you see her at all?’
His heart shrank. ‘A few times a year. I’m too successful for him to stop her from seeing me now. He needs to be able to brag. So he lets us meet. For her birthday, then mine. We have lunch together a week out from Christmas. Without him. Always without him.’ He paused. Because he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as that man. He couldn’t—not without deteriorating into a raging mess of vitriol—because then he would be that man’s equal and he couldn’t ever allow that. So he remained distant and in control. Always. ‘I ask her to come home with me. I tell her that if she wants to go somewhere—anywhere, anytime—I can make it happen. But she never says yes. I don’t think she ever will. She’s too broken.’
‘I’m so sorry, Elias.’
He pressed his hands to his forehead, unable to look at her. Afraid, horribly afraid that he would fall apart if he did.
‘She might yet.’ Darcie’s whisper was too sweet. ‘It can take someone a long time to believe they can... But she knows you’re there. You’ll always be there for when, if, she’s ever ready, right?’
He nodded jerkily. He knew all he could do was be there.
‘And maybe...’ Darcie sighed. ‘Maybe seeing you is enough? Maybe there are other things in her life—while he’s at work? I don’t know much, Elias, other than that things are often so complicated. Sometimes so hard to understand.’
‘Yeah.’ And coercion was horrifyingly scary and difficult to escape. The only person Elias wanted to control was himself. Yet he was losing it, wasn’t he? Even here. Now. ‘I don’t want to...’
He couldn’t say it aloud—that worst fear of his. But he didn’t want to be like that man. But he might.
Because he liked touching Darcie too much. He tried to tell himself that need wasn’t a symptom of possessiveness but simply the need for connection—to touch her somewhere, anywhere—even just the light pressure of her knee against his thigh as they sat beside each other. Butneedinga physical link wasn’t something he’d experienced before and to find it irresistible—to feel the silkiness of her skin, her warmth, the softness and the strength. He savoured every time he sank into the deliciousness of her body.
But the need was now more than sexual. When she was gone from the room he chilled and ached with emptiness. He’d become like a damned pack animal that always needed to lie in contact with its mate—seeking solace, and comfort in the knowledge he only had to move a mere millimetre to feel her. It was a comfort he’d never known he liked. And he liked tohearher admit she wanted him. He liked to hear that over and over. Since when was he soneedy? Wasn’t that controlling, too? He couldn’t allow this to turn into an obsession. He didn’t want to turn into his father. So somehow he needed to ensure Darcie kept her freedom—even from him.Always.
Darcie didn’t know what else to say, how else to help him. The trembling of his fingers gave away the deep well of emotion he’d exposed. Of course he was upset. He washuman. He couldn’t deny that. But she understood now how he tried—why it was that he rarely opened up, rarely expressed emotion. No wonder he never raised his voice, never showed strong feelings. No wonder he tried to remain at a distance and never let relationships last more than a few weeks at most. He’d been scarred by his parents. And was scared of becoming something else.
