Page 30 of Ensnared
He stepped closer, his gaze zeroing in on my neck. His fingers brushed against my skin, his touch gentle but his expression darkening with anger. “Did he do this?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
I stiffened. “Do what?”
“You have a bruise. It looks like a thumbprint. Did he do this to you?” His voice trembled with fury.
“Easton, please,” I whispered, my throat tightening with emotion.
“That bastard,” he spat, fury blazing in his eyes. “He saw you leave my room, didn’t he? I know there are cameras in the common areas.”
“He was angry,” I admitted softly, the memory of Colson’s grip still fresh.
Easton cursed under his breath, pacing the room before turning back to me. “There’s a connecting door between our closets. My father doesn’t know about it. This used to be Simone’s room, and I’d sneak in when my nightmares got bad.”
I wrinkled my nose at the mention of Simone, but the idea of a hidden door, a small escape route, was a comfort I hadn’t expected.
“If you ever need to, wake me up. Use the door,” Easton said, his voice tender as he looked at me with concern.
Without thinking, I threw my arms around him, clinging to him like a lifeline. In this house full of shadows and secrets, Easton was the only light, the only person who made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone.
“Want to go for a walk in the gardens tonight?” Easton asked, his voice laced with a hopeful undertone.
I couldn’t help but smile at the memory he was evoking. “Like we used to?”
He nodded, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “I missed you, you know. We were on the same campus, but it felt like you were a million miles away.”
I stepped back, my gaze dropping to the floor as a wave of guilt washed over me. “I was so caught up trying to keep my grades up... I didn’t have time for much else. And with a part-time job to cover what my scholarship didn’t, there wasn’t much room for anything else.”
Easton reached out, taking my hand in his. His grip was warm, reassuring. “You know I would’ve helped.”
I shook my head, biting my lip. “I couldn’t ask you for that.”
“You didn’t have to ask,” he said softly, his eyes searching mine. “I’ve helped you before.”
His words brought back the memory of high school, a time when I was desperately trying to scrape together the money for college applications. My parents were overwhelmed with medical bills after my father’s accident. He’d fallen off a ladder while cleaning the gutters, and with a sprained shoulder, he was out of work for two weeks. Colson didn’t pay him for the time he missed, and we were struggling.
Easton had stepped in then, too, covering the application fees without a second thought. I remembered how I’d felt—grateful, yes, but also ashamed that I needed his help.
“I remember,” I whispered, the weight of that memory pressing down on me. “But it was different in college.”
He squeezed my hand gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Why? Because we didn’t hang around the way we used to?”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Because of everything. I didn’t want to be a burden, Easton.”
“You’re not a burden, Joey,” he said, his voice firm. “You never were. I just want to be there for you, like I was back then.”
His words wrapped around my heart, pulling me closer to him in a way I hadn’t expected. I looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of pity or condescension, but all I saw was genuine concern.
“I’ve always wanted to be there for you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Let me do that, even now. Don’t you know, Joey, you’re my best friend. All the friends I have and you’re the only one who makes me feel special.”
“Because you are special.”
The sincerity in his eyes made my resolve waver. This was the Easton I remembered—the one who had always been my friend, my confidant. I missed him and now that he was back, I wouldn’t let him go no matter what happened.
Chapter 12
The house was draped in silence as I met Easton in the kitchen, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the refrigerator. He reached out and took my hand, leading me outside into the warm night air. The gardens were alive with the scent of blooming flowers, their fragrance wrapping around us as we walked.
“So, did you date much at Yale?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
