Page 220 of Those Who Are Bound

“I’ll send a text before I leave.” He looked out over the treetops, then back at her. Giving her a smile that was—for the first time in years, free of anxiety—he went back inside.

Elliott waited the span of five breaths, to ensure he wasn’t coming back outside, before she let the tears fall. She tried so hard not to run over the mistakes of her life that had him nose-tapping her and smiling as a goodbye. Not that she blamed him, not one bit: and she was grateful that he was taking the initiative to move them back to where they should be.

Without animosity, without judgment.

Maybe they’d be okay. Because he was right: they needed each other; he needed her as much as she needed him. She hadn’t considered that. But, yeah, as many times as he’d said it, she hadn’t heard it: she was his family. The Rorks had always been his only family.

One day, when they were both in a better place, she’d sit down with him and make him unload the full torment she’d caused him that day. Because the betrayal he must have suffered, not only of her but of the entire family; it had to have weighed heavily. He’d made a decision that day, too, as he’d said, but she was aware enough today to know he hadn’t consented to her being there.

Lives ruined. Becks, Gage, the men she’d terrorized in her thirst to see her passions sated—taking from them their peace of mind for her amusement, only to be disgusted by their weakness in acquiescing to her.

Jonah had escaped. Maybe he had a god looking out for him after all.

The sun had dipped, and her beer was long gone. Becks, too, and in the safe harbor of Lucy’s arms. Elliott entered her room and went straight to the bathroom. After using the facilities and washing up, including her tear-streaked face, she walked out of the room.

A burst of color caught her eye. Frowning, taking a few more steps into her room, she blinked at the piles of bright red on her gray bedspread.

She froze.

Ropes. Red ropes. A long length coiled in the middle, and two others coiled in strategically placed corners.

Her breath caught; her body flushed. It was an immediate reaction, as usual. The sensual, erotic response to the sight of them, the overwhelming need to be wrapped in them, restrained by them. Images of positions she’d seen through the years flashed in her mind in strobe-like speed.

Holy shit, Becks. What the fuck?

What had he said?I’m leaving you a couple of gifts. And Ellie, I need you to recognize them and accept them as gifts.

Shaking her head, she backed away. No, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t accept these things as anything other than the instruments that had taken control of her and caused so much damage to her, to her life, to so many lives.

Turning to the door, she gasped, her entire body jolting.

Jonah leaned against the doorjamb, the fourth length of the rope in his hand. Because, of course, there would be four lengths: one for each corner. He was staring at her with a level of heat she’d never seen before.

He was purposeful, intrigued, angry, and turned the fuck on.

But what was he even doing here?

Then it struck her: he was her second gift.

---