In The Arms Of Danger [Sequel to Make You Mine]

05.

05.

**Written in Open Office so the format may be kinda weird**

You know that feeling? That feeling you get when you're trying to convince yourself every thing's okay? That same feeling in the pit of your stomach that causes knots to twist like someone is wringing a cloth? The feeling of dread, fear, and regret when you finally realize that you were wrong all along. And that nothing will get better, only worse.

In the wise words of my best friend, Dana Daniels:

Nothing is wrong with you until everything is. You spend all of your life trying to play devil's advocate; agreeing just to avoid arguing. You spend all of your time convincing yourself that nothing is wrong until everything is.

These past few months living with Ian has proved that. “Playing house,” isn't working, and I haven't been able to break him. While in turn, he hasn't been able to break down any of my barriers. I still have a guarded shield up because I'm deeply terrified of him. I'm afraid of his anger, his fists, and his power. I never fully understand; let alone, observed his power until now. I never thought twice about his eminent fame and wealth until now. And as I stand, with my back pressed against the kitchen counter, I can't help but view him in a new, false light. A light that he has never shown me but reveals to others on a daily. One of beguiling dignity, authority, charm, and manipulative importance. He knows what he is doing by acting so...likable.

He coughs lightly to cover up his small chuckle. I have no idea what he's laughing at, but whatever it is has his undivided attention.

"Ian, can I talk to you for a sec?" I ask in the politest voice I can make. After dinner, I decided to put Danny to bed before Elaine could volunteer. I knew she couldn't argue because of her Friday night plans with her friends. So she is out of the house and away from my baby boy.

"Yeah babe, what's wrong?" he is seated at the island counter, typing on his Mac.

But I don't focus on hisactions. No, I replay his unusual choice of words in my head. Did he just say 'wrong'? How would he know something is wrong?

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I dry my hands with the cloth before straightening my tense form. My mouth opens to speak but I stop when I take in every inch of him. He's dressed in a graphic tee and fitted jeans. And even with that, he still manages to look flawless. My eyes linger on his toned arms before stopping at his smirking lips. He hasn't looked up from his task but I have an unrelenting feeling he can sense my staring.

“Is everything alright?” He lifts his head then swiftly removes his reading glasses. A small curve of a smile threatens to creep up from the thought of him wearing glasses.

"I have an issue with this whole 'staying in all day' thing." I use air quotes to emphasize it. I'm hoping he'll understand and let us go out. Danny misses Pre- K and, at his age it is imperative he interacts with other children.

"Oh, really?" he tilts his head with slit eyes. It's not an angered expression but I can tell if I keep speaking, his face and tone will morph into a demeaning one.

"Look, Danny misses school and I-"

"No Ava, you look. Every single fucking thing I've done has been for the benefit of you and my son, okay?"

"How is this benefiting us? You keep us in here with Elaine all damn day and never let us go anywhere. Not to the store, not to the park; we don't go anywhere! Don't you see the problem?” I cross my arms before rolling my eyes.

He sighs impatiently then stands. Out of habit, I back farther into the counter top.

“I don't think there is a problem with me working to provide for us while you stay home to take care of him. You knew what you signed up for,” his palms press against the island counter while his chest heaves unevenly. And judging by the way his eyes remain locked on the marble counter and his hands slowly clench into fists , there isn't much time before he loses it.