Page 16 of Her Outlaw Prisoner
Her eyelashes flutter against my skin as she shifts slightly, pressing closer, like she’s seeking warmth. I tighten my hold around her waist. “You okay?” I murmur.
She nods, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over my chest. “Yeah.”
For a moment, neither of us speak. The silence should feel heavy, but it doesn’t. Then, before I can stop myself, I ask, “What happened to you, Eleanor?”
She stills, her body tensing slightly against mine. “What are you talking about?”
“I see the way you look over your shoulder,” I reply, keeping my tone gentle. “I see the terror in your eyes when you think no one is looking. I could look into it on my own, but I’d appreciate it if you talk to me about it.”
I feel her hesitation melt, in the way her body relaxes against mine. She exhales and pulls back, just enough to meet my gaze, enough for me to see the vulnerability in her gorgeous hazel eyes.
“Well, I lost my dad to a car crash when I was seven,” she says, then sighs softly. “Mom grieved for a long time. I was left alone a lot. When I turned seventeen, she married Pete. He was a decent guy, but he had a son who was two years older than me. My stepbrother, Daryl—he was…possessive.” She pulls away gently and sits up, reaching for her scrubs as if she’s just now remembered she’s naked.
She continues the story as she pulls on her clothes, and I slide back into my shirt as well. “He watched me all the time, and messed with my head. He made me think I was delusional. He’d mess with my stuff, my room…” She shudders, lost in the memory. “I couldn’t concentrate in school because I felt like he was always watching me, always lurking in the shadows. I couldn’t date. I lost my friends because they thought I was crazy.”
My fingers curl into fists as she speaks, rage building inside me like a slow-burning fire. She shouldn’t have had to live like that. Constantly afraid. Constantly looking over her shoulder.
I pull her close to me again, needing to feel her against me, wrapping my arms around her. She leans her head against my chest and says, “Mom shielded me the best she could, but then she passed away from cancer when I was nineteen, and the house became hell for me. I went to college, and I thought I’descaped Daryl, but that was wishful thinking. He was always watching, leaving reminders of himself in odd places at odd times. I always had to watch my back.”
That bastard…the way she talks about him, the ill-concealed terror in her eyes as she speaks about him…it makes my stomach turn. I force myself to keep my breathing even, to let her finish.
“I finally got my nursing degree,” she continues, her voice quieter now, as if she’s slipping back into those memories. “I thought maybe I’d be free. But he showed up at my graduation. Just standing in the crowd, watching. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try anything. Just stood there. I knew then I could never really escape him.”
She pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, I ran. Took the first job I could find, far away from him. I figured working in a prison would be the last place he’d expect me to be. And it’s worked. He hasn’t found me.”
Yet.
She doesn’t say the word, but it lingers in the air between us.
I pull back slightly and lift my hand, tilting her chin so she meets my eyes. “He’s never going to go near you again, Eleanor.”
She exhales shakily. “You don’t understand. He’s not normal, Ronan. He—he enjoys it. The mind games. The power trip. I know if he ever finds me, he won’t let me go again.”
My jaw clenches. “He won’t find you.”
Her lips part slightly, but no words come out. I can tell she wants to believe me. I’ll make sure she does. That motherfucker has no idea he just put himself on my radar. I don’t let threats linger.
I lower my head, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. She sighs into my mouth, wrapping her arms around my neck, her body softening against mine again. I wish I could stand here holding her like this forever. But the sharp clang of the prison buzzer shatters the moment.
I sigh, pulling away. “I have to go.”
She nods, moving to clean up the exam table and arrange the supplies as if this was a normal visit to the infirmary. I watch her move, that possessive hunger still thrumming beneath my skin.
She’s mine.
I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to walk out of here and pretend like I don’t feel this way. Before I leave, I catch her wrist, pulling her back into me for one last kiss. This one is softer, slower. A promise.
“I’ll see you soon,” I murmur against her lips.
She nods, her fingers tightening in my shirt for half a second before she lets me go.
I turn, just as the door bursts open. Rodriguez steps inside, his gaze flickering between us, suspicion and disappointment narrowing his beady little eyes. He probably wanted to catch us in a more intimate moment, the asshole.
“Time’s up, Callahan.”
I smirk, wiping a hand over my mouth like I’m erasing any evidence of what just happened. But the truth is, there’s no erasing this.
Not from my skin. Not from my bones.
