Page 14 of Imprisoned Obsession

What I want and what he wishes me to want are two different things. I just want to go back to my small apartment and live a life of monotony. Anything is better than being an unchained abductee.

He guides me to the common area and cuts through the grand furniture to enter a room that has the blinds closed for privacy. The woman pop opens her luggage and holds out a yellow measuring tape.

“Ready when you are,” she offers.

“I will leave Willa in your good hands, Bernadette.” Elio smiles ominously.

The woman’s smile falters until she returns her features back to civility. She nods wisely and waits for him to leave.

It seems like she knows that Elio isn’t all spectacular smiles and pleasantries. She has picked up on the storm that lurks in his huge body and decides not to aggravate him.

She might already know what he’s capable of doing.

Elio tugs me towards him and wraps his other arm around my stiff shoulders. His lips find their place on my temple again and murmur my name quietly.

“My darling girl,” he whispers coldly, fighting the hot breath fanning my pounding pulse.

He leaves me standing like an idiot with my mouth ajar. The stupor expression stays after he closes the door behind him.

“Shall we, Willa?” the woman exclaims eagerly.

I manage to swallow thickly before turning to her. My lips tremble unsteadily as my voice cracks, but she shakes her head the second a sound comes out.

Bernadette walks closer, stretching the yellow tape and motioning for me to lift my arms. She asks a series of questions about my life to get a better understanding of my style. I answer in a helpless trance, and my limbs are on autopilot as she maneuvers me.

She knows what I want to say. She saw something alarming between Elio and me, but she stopped me when I tried to ask for help.

She’s afraid of him too.

“How did you meet?” I ask unblinking.

Bernadette’s hand trembles, and she flexes her fingers to get rid of them. “He defended my husband.”

Elio doesn’t seem open to the idea of gratuitous selflessness, nor is he even remotely righteous. He strikes me as someone who believes in quid pro quo and gets the best part of any deal.

Bernadette chortles uncomfortably at the unconvinced expression on my face.

“In a trial,” she amends quietly. “He’s a criminal defense attorney.”

No wonder he had so much confidence when he countered my ramblings the other day. He’s a lawyer with intense knowledge of the law and the loopholes. Elio wasn’t just taunting me; he was predicting my future charged with first-degree murder if I walked out that door.

I will be dead, in a figurative sense, if I speak the truth. No one will believe my story over that of a sophisticated and intelligent lawyer.

“Is he good?” I choke out breathlessly.

The woman smiles somewhat proudly. “Infamously so.”

She finishes the last measurements as I stand in a daze. Dizziness stirs my gut, queasiness hits the back of my throat, and my knees are quaking.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“I’m all set,” Bernadette quips joyfully. “I’ll draw up the sketches and email them to him. Just tell me which designs catch your eye!”

She gathers her things and snaps the clasps of the luggage, popping the handle up as she gets ready to leave. Rashness overcomes the numbness in my body as I grab the metal bar on her baggage.

I want to grab her hand. Anything to stop her from leaving is better than doing nothing.

“Yes?” she questions, oblivious to my distress. “Something you’d like to include with your design requirements?”

---