Break the chain

Chapter Twenty-Two

He chained me to the bed. He genuinely, actually chained me to the bed. This man spoke of me falling in love with him and still chained me to the bed. I remembered his face as he'd done it. He'd told me he didn't want to have to, but he felt it was the only way I'd learn.

I knew he was awake. It was just my hands that were chained. They were chained above me to the headboard. In the end, it hadn't taken much to do it. I had a feeling the rest of the chains were for a bad day. Maybe to keep me in the bedroom so I couldn't wander off.

No matter how I tried to sit, there was no comfortable way of sleeping with my arms held like this above me.

His head was in my lap, his eyes closed. Had I been someone that hadn't seen him sleep before, his attempt might've fooled me. But I had seen him sleep before. That was the problem. I knew his eyes would dart if he was. His breathing was even, but I wouldn't be fooled.

The tears kept coming, even now. I knew it was paining him. Maybe some tiny, buried part of him knew this was wrong. Maybe that tiny part of him cared about my wellbeing too. I knew the sound was torturing him. In that spirit, I cried as loud as I could.

After some time, he took my hand and pressed a soft kiss on the back of it. His eyes were still closed as if he couldn't bear to look at me.

"Please stop crying."

I snuffled.

"You think I can control this?"

"Please," He pressed. "Tell me what to do to make them stop."

I pulled at the chains. "I can't sleep like this."

He sighed.

"What's the worst I could do? You saw it. I couldn't do it."

I'd failed to kill him. Maybe if I'd managed it, I wouldn't have been in this position now. I could be back home on the farm, lazing around and watching reality Tv.

"I can't let you leave," He told me, blue eyes snapping open. "I've told you this too many times. Sei mio. Non ti lascerò mai andare."

I hated it when he did that. I didn't like what it did to me. His accent was sexy. I didn't like how it made me feel. I certainly didn't like not knowing what he was saying. It put me on edge.

"You can't just decide who you'll fall in love with. It doesn't work that way. You can't look at me and know I'm the one."

Our lives didn't fit. He was the mafia boss with a gun at his side. I was the farmgirl that carried dog treats in her pocket.

"What if I told you I'm interested? Beyond what you can bring to my mafia. What if I told you we fit?"

"But we don't. You've got me chained to your bed. Don't you think that says something?"

He frowned. Through the dark, I could just about see his eyes narrowing.

"It won't be like this forever. When I'm sure you'll behave yourself, these rules will slacken."

What did it mean to behave myself? Was I to be seen and not heard? To do everything he said?

"How will you ever know? Your paranoia is impossible."

"One day, you'll thank my paranoia. It might just save your life."

"My life would never be in danger if you weren't in it."

"Don't say things like that."

"You act like you care but I know you don't. Just give it up. Stop hurting me."