turn it into something bad.”
“We broke up. That means you stay away from me and I stay away from you. You don’t text me, you don’t call me, email me, or send smoke signals.” I gesture wildly with my hands. “You don’t send me flowers, and most importantly, you don’t show up at my job.”
“Clearly, you’re having another one of your episodes,” he says looking more and more annoyed by the second.
“An episode ?” It takes effort to keep from yelling at him. I’m so tired of people telling me how I should behave. How I should just be a mindless socialite like my mother, be the perfect little rich girl and keep up appearances. I should never have an opinion of my own, never disagree, and always do as I’m told.
“Let’s get in my car, you can show me your apartment, I’ll take you to an early dinner, and then you can say thank you properly,” he says tipping my chin up so that our eyes lock. Determination fills his gaze while disgust fills mine. I jerk my head trying to get away, but he tightens his hold on me, digging his fingers into my face painfully.
“Let. Go. Of. Me,” I demand, keeping my voice strong even though his aggressiveness has shocked me. I’ve seen his patience slip before, seen him get in my face, but he’s never put his hands on me before.
“You know I’ve never admitted it, but I kind of like it when you’re like this. I like when you put up a fight because when you give in … and trust me, you will give in, it’ll make the victory that much sweeter, babe.” He says the babe in a mocking tone, one that pisses me the fuck off, and I manage to pull away from him.
I should get in my car and leave, put as much distance between us as I can, but the false bravado kicks in.
“Fuck you, Garrett. Go home and take your fucking flowers with you. I would never go back to you.”
He tosses the flowers on the pavement, and before I know it, he advances on me backing me up into my car where he cages me in.
“Back away,” I say on a broken whisper, all hints of bravery gone. His hand comes up and fists around my neck effectively shutting me the fuck up and scaring the living hell out of me.
“You don’t have Daddy here to protect you anymore, Emelia. You wanted to be on your own then you’re going to need to learn how to fight your own battles. You want to fight me, fine. You do it … I guarantee you, you’ll lose.” He smiles, releasing me and taking a step back. My hand involuntarily goes to my neck, and I let out a breath.
“Stay the fuck away from me. We’re so done.”
He juts his chin out, and it’s as if he’s accepting the challenge. A challenge I don’t want to be a part of.
“We’ll see,” is all he says before turning and walking away. When I look down at the flowers, my first thought is to want to leave them there, pull my car out of my parking spot, and run them over, but one of my coworkers might see them on the floor and ask questions. Instead, I pick them up, toss them in my backseat, and make a mental note to throw them in the first trash bin I come across. I’m on edge the entire drive home, carefully watching the rearview mirror and hoping Garrett isn’t following me. In all of my dealings with him—the good and bad times—I can’t recall a time I ever felt particularly scared of him. Not until today. It makes me think that maybe everyone underestimates him; maybe he’s just as shrewd and ruthless as his father is. I make the decision to call my father tonight and let him know what’s going on. He’ll make sure that Garrett stays away from me. I’m not normally the type to run to Daddy with all of my problems, but I’m not about to fuck around with this shit. Not when I’m out here on my own. He needs to know if I’m potentially unsafe.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I reach my building and pull into the parking lot. Without delay, I grab my things and hustle into the building, dropping the flowers in the receptacle outside.
“We broke up. That means you stay away from me and I stay away from you. You don’t text me, you don’t call me, email me, or send smoke signals.” I gesture wildly with my hands. “You don’t send me flowers, and most importantly, you don’t show up at my job.”
“Clearly, you’re having another one of your episodes,” he says looking more and more annoyed by the second.
“An episode ?” It takes effort to keep from yelling at him. I’m so tired of people telling me how I should behave. How I should just be a mindless socialite like my mother, be the perfect little rich girl and keep up appearances. I should never have an opinion of my own, never disagree, and always do as I’m told.
“Let’s get in my car, you can show me your apartment, I’ll take you to an early dinner, and then you can say thank you properly,” he says tipping my chin up so that our eyes lock. Determination fills his gaze while disgust fills mine. I jerk my head trying to get away, but he tightens his hold on me, digging his fingers into my face painfully.
“Let. Go. Of. Me,” I demand, keeping my voice strong even though his aggressiveness has shocked me. I’ve seen his patience slip before, seen him get in my face, but he’s never put his hands on me before.
“You know I’ve never admitted it, but I kind of like it when you’re like this. I like when you put up a fight because when you give in … and trust me, you will give in, it’ll make the victory that much sweeter, babe.” He says the babe in a mocking tone, one that pisses me the fuck off, and I manage to pull away from him.
I should get in my car and leave, put as much distance between us as I can, but the false bravado kicks in.
“Fuck you, Garrett. Go home and take your fucking flowers with you. I would never go back to you.”
He tosses the flowers on the pavement, and before I know it, he advances on me backing me up into my car where he cages me in.
“Back away,” I say on a broken whisper, all hints of bravery gone. His hand comes up and fists around my neck effectively shutting me the fuck up and scaring the living hell out of me.
“You don’t have Daddy here to protect you anymore, Emelia. You wanted to be on your own then you’re going to need to learn how to fight your own battles. You want to fight me, fine. You do it … I guarantee you, you’ll lose.” He smiles, releasing me and taking a step back. My hand involuntarily goes to my neck, and I let out a breath.
“Stay the fuck away from me. We’re so done.”
He juts his chin out, and it’s as if he’s accepting the challenge. A challenge I don’t want to be a part of.
“We’ll see,” is all he says before turning and walking away. When I look down at the flowers, my first thought is to want to leave them there, pull my car out of my parking spot, and run them over, but one of my coworkers might see them on the floor and ask questions. Instead, I pick them up, toss them in my backseat, and make a mental note to throw them in the first trash bin I come across. I’m on edge the entire drive home, carefully watching the rearview mirror and hoping Garrett isn’t following me. In all of my dealings with him—the good and bad times—I can’t recall a time I ever felt particularly scared of him. Not until today. It makes me think that maybe everyone underestimates him; maybe he’s just as shrewd and ruthless as his father is. I make the decision to call my father tonight and let him know what’s going on. He’ll make sure that Garrett stays away from me. I’m not normally the type to run to Daddy with all of my problems, but I’m not about to fuck around with this shit. Not when I’m out here on my own. He needs to know if I’m potentially unsafe.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I reach my building and pull into the parking lot. Without delay, I grab my things and hustle into the building, dropping the flowers in the receptacle outside.
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