Page 114 of Blood Bound

“Hmm. Well, when I left earlier, I saw the parking lot was still full of people and couldn’t say goodbye properly. I also just wanted to say thank you again for everything and wanted to make sure you get home safely. It’s only fair that I protect you since you literally saved my life,” he says, stunning me.

Those words cause my heart to race and I can feel a blush burning the tips of my ears.

No one has ever cared about my well-being before. Even my Mama let me walk to school five blocks away and I was only six years old.

“N-no! You don’t need to do that at all!” I say, waving my hand dismissively and giving him a nervous chuckle. “I don’t live too far from here, anyway.”

Oh, gosh, why is he doing this? There’s no reason for him to be here at all; I just did my job like I always do!

“Are you sure?” He raises his eyebrow. “I could—”

“Naw, I assure you everything is a-okay. But thank you so much for makin’ sure I’m safe, that’s mighty kinda you.” My words nearly die in my mouth when I realize once again that my Southern accent slipped into my sentences.

I need to stop this, I need to learn to speak normally!

Valentine walks towards me and I press my back up against my car with my keys between my fingers, ready to protect myself. But he simply touches my chin and strokes it gently.

“Why do you hide that adorable accent? It suits you so well,” he whispers, running his thumb over my bottom lip and smiling.

I feel myself drowning in those dark pools of emeralds staring at me as if he can see my deepest secrets. But he can’t see those… they go too deep for anyone to survive and look at me the same way again.

The sound of my heartbeat thudding in my ears brings me back to the now and I clear my throat before slowly pushing him away.

He can’t look at me that way and I can’t allow him to… not with what I have to hide.

“Thank you again for checking up on me, Valentine, but I assure you that I’m okay and will be safe the second I get home,” the lie tastes bitter but I say it anyway, opening my car door behind me and giving him an awkward smile.

No one should have this effect on me, much less a vampire. I’ve treated countless vampires before, but none of them remotely looked at me like Valentine does.

He bows his head slightly and places his hands behind his back. “That’s good to know,” he says, then returns my smile. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Ha! Says the vampire,” I chuckle and give him a small wave before he turns and walks away from me.

The smile immediately drops from my face and I hustle to get into my car. My heart thuds when I see the time and I nearly curse before I stop myself.

I take a deep breath to compose my heart and nerves, sweeping my hair back into a neat ponytail and removing the shackle from inside my handbag before slipping it onto the fourth finger of my left hand.

The drive home always seems quicker than any of my shifts do; but then again I look forward to working more than I do coming back to the place I deem my prison.

Walking inside what used to be my home, I let out a sigh and started picking up the bottles and cans scattered across the living room floor. My husband is nowhere to be seen, but as I walk towards the kitchen, something comes flying at my head and I realize too late that it's a beer can.

The blow would have hurt less if the can was empty.

I stumble sideways and brace myself on the edge of the kitchen counter while trying to get my bearings. He storms over to me and grabs me by the throat, slamming me hard against the concrete kitchen wall, and dazing me.

“Why the fuck are you home so late? Who are you fucking now?!” he says through gritted teeth, but I can still catch the stale beer and cigarette smoke on his breath.

This is the norm for me, the usual sick cycle of staying at work after 9 pm.

“Sorry, honey, I had… I had a few late clients to see - little babies—”

The slap stings my cheek and I see white spots in my vision. “Bullshit! And why the fuck are you speaking like that again?!” A blow to my gut so hard that I gasp. “Didn’t I tell you to speak normally? Didn’t I say that your accent makes me sick?”

I swallow my pride and try to placate him with a smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s been a long day, love…” I say, and he throws me to the tiled floor. “I won’t speak like this again, I promise.”

“Next time you do, you’re fucking dead.” He says, then grabs his keys from the counter. “I’m going out and you better fucking sleep in the spare room ‘cos I’m bringing pussy home.” He says and storms out, slamming the door behind him.

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