Page 105 of Bidding War

“How come you have never told me about your father before? That man did some crazy shit.”

“I never liked talking about him because, in addition to all of the fraud and other shitty behavior, he was constantly angry … ” I am going to get the words out if it kills me. So, I blurt, “Back then, he used to hit. A lot. Talking about him is just very … it's hard. It's really, really hard. Sometimes, when I think about him, it feels like there's a boulder sitting on my chest, trying to stop me from breathing. I don't know how to get past that.” Okay. My back is damp, and I’m dizzy, but I said the words, and I didn’t throw up. Kudos to me.

Anderson gives my thigh a supportive squeeze. “You're doing really good talking about it right now. But if you don't wanna talk about it anymore, we don't have to. That said, I think it might be a good idea for you to see a therapist about it. I'm happy to listen to whatever you wanna tell me about, but I'm not skilled like they are.”

“Yeah, maybe one day. Honestly, I keep thinking about that, too. I'm just not ready yet.”

“Whenever you are, we will get you the best help available.” He sighs. “Strange to think that both of our fathers are becoming far too involved in our lives.”

I laugh at that. “You are not wrong, sir.”

“Sometime soon, we should get some time alone. Just the two of us. With nobody around to pester us.”

“That sounds magical. Yes, please.” The worry lines on his face become clearer the closer we are to his parents' place. I bet he needs to talk, too. “Nervous about tonight?”

“I think I have good reason to be, don't you?”

“Oh, definitely. I wasn't trying to imply that it was an unearned anxiety. Do you think that he's going to drop the hammer on us or something?”

He sighs. “Honestly, after our last meeting, I have no idea what to expect out of that man.”

“That’s the scariest part, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I liked it when he was relatively predictable. This whole … caring thing is too weird. I don’t know how to handle it.”

I don’t know what to think, either. Elliot has always been a little combative. Hell, the first time we met, he asked me to sign a prenup. But that was when he thought we were engaged. Now that he knows everything, I have no clue how he will be. But I’m prepared for anything.

Cold Elliot gets Clever June, who sidesteps rudeness.

Snippy Elliot gets Overly Nice June, who gets far too sweet to make him sound like an even bigger asshole.

Any other version of him I will have to play by ear. At least Kitty is nice to me. I can always fall back into conversation with her. “And you said your brother isn’t coming to this shindig?”

“No. Just the four of us.”

“Intimate.”

“Yeah, on that note, if I say the word fluegelhorn, we are out of there.”

I snort a laugh. “How exactly are you working fluegelhorn into the conversation to be subtle?”

“You’re right. What do you suggest?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Kettlebell.”

He cocks a glance at me. “Kettlebell? How do I get that into the conversation?”

“Talk about using them in PT.”

“Huh. That’s a good idea.”

We pull up to the valet for the building, and I didn’t realize just how it would affect me to be back on the street where I was kidnapped. I can’t help but eye the shadows around the building. The neighborhood is one of the most expensive in Boston, and despite the security cameras and guards, I was still whisked away in the night.

A night like this one.

I cling to Anderson’s arm as we walk to the building. But he knows me. He murmurs in my ear, “I’ve got you, baby. No one is taking you tonight but me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to?—"

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