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His gaze darted down to my lips, slowly rising back to mine. The heat in his eyes burned me down to the bone. “I saved your life, Whitney. That makes you mine. I’ll make sure you never forget that.”
The warmth those words suffused me with curled through my body like smoke, diffusing through every inch until I was made up of nothing but his words.
“You’re delusional,” I scoffed after just staring at him for a long moment.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he countered. “And you will be here when I get back.” He pressed a hard kiss to my forehead. “If anything happens, Brooks is around. And if you need something, call me.”
I huffed, ignoring the onslaught of tangled emotions that were trying to overwhelm me. Every second with him was another brick destroyed in my wall of defense.
“I don’t have a phone.” I’d never had a phone. Never had the money for it and never had anyone to call, anyway, so it didn’t matter. “Where are you even going?”
“Work.” He pushed off the bed, went to the nightstand, and pulled something out of the top drawer. “I figured that. You can use this one.” He held out a small flip phone.
When I just stared at it like it would bite me, he set it by my hip on the bed. “Take it, Whitney.”
“I don’t want it. I’m not gonna call you.”
“Take the phone.”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “You know what I really need?” I asked.
“A heavy hand and some cotillion classes?”
“Ha. Ha. I need some fucking clothes, Court. I never got to get my shit from the motel. I need clothes. That fit me.”
“Alright.” His lazy agreement surprised me for a moment. “We can stop somewhere and get you some things.” He dragged his eyes over my chest, my hips, my legs. “I’ll be back later. Be good for me. I know you can.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving me alone in his big bed with his words swimming in my head.
I wanted to drown myself in them.
I wasted half the day lazing in Court’s grandiose bed, watching old movies. Court’s words kept slipping into my little break from reality.
I turned my head and buried my nose in Court’s pillow and inhaled, not even a little embarrassed about what I was doing. It smelled like his stupid body wash, like him, and it quieted the racing thoughts that wanted to drag me through the muck.
What the hell was happening to me?
I saved your life, Whitney. That makes you mine.
What did that even mean? What did it mean to belong to someone? To possess someone? He couldn’t mean that in the forever sense. He was just getting his jollies and would toss me aside when he got tired of dealing with my bullshit.
While Gene Kelly danced his heart out, I shoved the covers off and slipped out of bed. Something in the bed started vibrating, and I practically jumped out of my skin before remembering that Court had shoved that stupid flip phone there. I pulled it out and looked at the little rectangle on the front. Court was in pixelated letters just above his phone number.
I rolled my eyes and flipped the bulky piece of metal open and held it to my ear. “Miss me already?”
His low chuckle crackled over the line, sending shivers down my spine and making me squeeze the phone. “I do, actually. Also wanted to make sure you’re staying out of trouble.”
My heart thumped against my rib cage at his easy honesty. “Well, I’ve taken all your boxers out of the drawer, unfolded every single one, and then shoved them back in. Then I threw the remote at the TV when a movie I don’t like too much came on. It still works, you just have to pretend that giant crack running down the middle isn’t there. After that I cut holes in all your curtains. I was just about to put flour in the sugar jar when you called.”
“You should put salt in the sugar jar, not flour. Same consistency.”
I paused. “Oh. Yeah, you’re right. Duly noted, thanks.”
“What movie was it?”
“Was what?”
“That made you break my TV.”
“Oh.” I thought for a moment, then said, “It’s A Wonderful Life.”