His Woman (18+)

Chapter XXXV

THE FIGHT

Never put a limit on how much you feel and how much you cry, babe.

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CHAPTER XXXV

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“LET ME GO, please,” I begged, trying to control the tears streaming down my face. “Just let me go.”

He faltered for a moment, and soon I felt his hands leave my waist. He turned me around to face him and held onto my arms so I couldn't run again.

“Go to my room and wait for me there. I'll be with you soon.”

I wanted to shake my head and tell him that I wouldn't do that, but why would I willingly argue with him?

Instead I nodded, pretending that I would, but he grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. “I'm serious. Don't make me come looking for you.”

It only ever took one warning with him. Don't make me more pissed. Don't make me say it a third time. Don't make me come looking for you. And that was all I ever needed.

I nodded my head meekly, letting him lead me out of the underground layer of his and into the garage where I could find my way without getting lost again. I walked back into the house and made my way toward his room like a robot, with no emotion. Maids stopped me to ask me what was wrong and why I had blood on myself, but I ignored them and continued walking.

I didn't let the tears out until the door to Daniel's room was closed behind me. I felt like I had been transported to months ago. To Vincent.

And just when I was finally healing from it as well.

I didn't know what the guy Daniel was torturing had done, but I honestly didn't want to know either. He probably didn't deserve it.

I sat down on the sofa and buried my face in my hands, letting my shoulders heave up and down as the flashbacks of Vincent played in my head. I couldn't remember his face, but that didn't stop them. I still felt like I was there. The same melted man still haunted me.

I heard the door open and close, successfully snapping me out of my nightmares as the sound of footsteps filled the room. I knew it was Daniel, but I still couldn't look up. I was too scared that I would see him soaked with blood.

What if some of the blood on him belonged to him? What if he was shot again? What if he was dying again?

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to look up and make sure he was okay because I was too afraid that he wouldn't be.

I yelped out in surprise when I felt cold hands on my knees. Slowly looking up, I let out a relieved breath once I realised that it was just Daniel. And he wasn't bloody. And there was no visible sign of a bullet wound.

“How do I comfort you?” he asked me, making me tilt my head to the side in confusion. “How do I make it go away?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to compose myself. If I was going to be dramatic and emotional, then I had to do that somewhere else because Daniel wasn't the man to expect to sympathise with me. He was different to most; he had experienced things that not many people had experienced and because of that, he couldn't feel anything.

He wouldn't feel anything.

“I'm sorry,” I sniffled, standing up and heading towards the door to leave, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to face him. Without thinking, I yanked my wrist from his grasp and took a cautious step back. “It's fine, Daniel. I'll be okay.”