Page 81 of Bound in Debt
I look around the room, taking in the destruction Liam left behind when he kidnapped me. My sheets are a tangled mess on the floor, my desk chair is tipped on its side, and my purse is spilled across my desk.
“I was fucking worried! I almost called security, but then Chase texted me? He said he picked you up to get that shit you ordered and—” Ellie is pacing back and forth across the floor, anxiously twisting a chunk of hair around one finger.
“Yeah, um, about that…”
“And seriously, what are you into? I thought we told each other everything!” She turns tear-filled eyes on me and I’m lost.
I can’t do this. I can’t keep lying to my best friend, the sister I never had.
But I have to if I want to have any chance of protecting her. The last thing I want is for Ellie to get tangled up in this mob shit with me.
“Ellie, Ellie, I’m sorry.” I feel moisture starting to gather in my own eyes and hastily blink it away. We won’t be able to have anything resembling a productive conversation if we’re both sobbing messes. Reaching out, I pull her into a tight hug. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Just let me in,” she whispers. “Let me help.”
“God—” My voice cracks and I swallow thickly. “God, I wish I could, El. But this is?—”
Ellie pulls free from my hug and scowls at me. “I can take it.”
“I know. But I still can’t tell you everything.”
“What can you tell me?” she scoffs. “What mysterious shit have you gotten into?”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But I can tell you that Liam is one hundred percent a piece of shit. That’s over. It’s done.”
My friend lets out a gusty sigh. “Well, that’s something, at least. I don’t have to pretend to tolerate him anymore?”
Now I chuckle for real. “Ellie, you never pretended to tolerate him.”
“Truer words.” She shrugs, unrepentant. “Chase didn’t really take you to pick up a new passport, did he?”
I shake my head, reaching down and fiddling with Dante’s ring on my finger, trying to think of what I can safely tell my best friend. She cares. She’s probably the only person in my life who does.
“What is on your finger?” Ellie’s screech draws me back to myself and I hastily tuck my left hand in my pocket, but the damage is done.
“I-I can explain.”
“Bitch, you better. Tell me it’s not that fucking Moretti fuck boy.” She gasps. “Oh, it is! But you’re getting an annulment and that’s why?—”
“No!” I snap, breaking into Ellie’s chaotic rant. “No, it’s, uh…” I pause. There’s no going back from this, but maybe I can twist this somehow. Use this fucked up mess to help Dante and I resolve things.
“It’s, uh, what?” Ellie’s arms are crossed over her chest and she’s tapping her toes with impatience.
“Um, it’s actually Professor Moretti.” I wince when Ellie inhales, but she claps her own hand over her mouth to stop the shocked scream. “It’s complicated, but?—”
“Oh, I knew you were hot for teacher!” she crows. “You’ve been crushing on him since you heard his music and now he’s here and you totally let him tap it!”
At least she seems to have forgotten about her worries for my safety. Never have I been so grateful for Ellie’s romantic, fairy-tale bent. Coyly, I bite my lip and glance to the side. “Well…” I tease. “Wouldn’t you?”
Ellie’s laugh is one of those rich belly laughs that you only ever hear from real friends. “Oh, girl, absolutely!” She tilts her head and studies me. “So, wait, that ring…?” Her voice trails off and she seems oddly hesitant.
“It’s uh, just something to remind me of him. It doesn’t fit on my other fingers.” I quickly demonstrate, grateful when it turns out I’m not lying—about the ring’s fit, at least.
“Aww, who would have thought the broody professor had such a soft, squishy center?”
I shake my head, giggling. “Enough! Geeze, Ellie. I have to get to class. Can you help me find an outfit?”
“Are we aiming for prim and proper, trashy party girl, or secret slut?”
