Page 41 of Trapped and Tackled

The warmth of his hand on my cheek, the brush of his thumb over my lips.

His lips—full and parted—arcing over mine.

Stormy gray eyes, brimming with emotions.

A kiss I lost myself in. A man who makes me feel too many things I yearn for.

I shouldn’t have kissed you.

The words I knew all along, but it took Talon saying them for me to remember.

He’s off-limits.

And I’m a terrible judge of where to draw the line.

The months I stayed with Craig. The apologies I accepted when I should have packed my bags.

My fingers skate over my collarbone—a memory that won’t fade even though the bruises did—and other thoughts infiltrate.

The scent of scotch.

Craig’s wild eyes, edged with anger. The twist of his mouth and tightness of his grip.

The condescending words that fell from his lips.

And the messages. A whole thread of unanswered texts.

Craig: Leni, are you ready to talk yet?

Craig: You can’t avoid me forever, sweetheart. I know we argued but moving out was a mistake. Breaking up was a mistake.

Craig: I need you, baby. Give me the chance to fight for us. Call me.

Craig: Leni, come on now.

Lincoln: Leni, stop avoiding me! I miss you! Call me, please.

Craig: What game are you playing? Do you think you can win?

Craig: You know I’ll come for you, right? I won’t let you leave me, Leni. Not forever.

Craig: You belong to me, baby. You’re mine. And you better not fucking forget it.

Talon: Need me to grab anything for this weekend?

Argh! It seems like my MO is indecision. I can’t respond. Can’t react.

Can’t focus on the conversation unfolding around me.

A headache forms, pinching at my temples and gathering over my eyebrows.

My knee bounces beneath the table and my heart rate thrums in my eardrums.

Failure. Not enough. What the hell am I doing with my life?

I glance around the group of women I admire and wonder what they would say if they knew.

Knew that I stayed with a man who put his hands on me.

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