I lift my eyes to him, but I’m unprepared for the pain than slices through me when I see the pure look of it on his face.
“Don’t shut out the next person who tries to get close to you. Tell them everything. Don’t worry that they won’t love you because they will. It’s impossible not to love you, Mia.” He lets out a resigned sigh. “I know that better than anyone.”
I slide my hand across my chest, gripping at the place where my aching heart is. And in this moment, I crumble, changing my mind, ready to tell him that I love him. That I’ll find a way to get beyond how I feel.
But before I get a chance to part my dry lips, he’s gone, the door banging closed in his wake.
Panic claws at my chest. I want to run after him. Tell him I was wrong.
But my legs don’t move. And I know why.
Because deep down I know letting him go is the right thing.
I slide down the bed, turning on my side as I pull my knees to my chest, hugging them.
I’m wiping at my tears when I hear the door open.
Jordan.
My heart leaps.
I turn around.
Forbes.
Oh god no.
No.
I can feel my body turning in on itself. Like a snail, retreating into its shell.
What is he doing here? How did he know I was here? What happened to his face?
His nose is taped up. His face cut and bloody.
He shuts the door behind him, and my blood turns cold.
My eyes start scanning the room looking for an escape, but my only current escape is the door he’s standing in front of. I could always make a dash for the bathroom and lock myself inside.
“F-Forbes,” I finally manage.
“How are you feeling?” he asks perfectly normal, as if the last time I saw him didn’t involve him beating and attempting to rape me.
“H-how did you know you know I was here?”
He smiles, and it makes my blood run cold. “I’m your emergency contact on your medical insurance, remember? The minute they brought you in, I got a call. I came straight away. I was worried about you, baby. I’ve been worried about you for the last two weeks. Not knowing where you were … it’s been torture.” He takes a step closer to me.
I scrabble back in bed, covering my legs with the hospital gown I’m wearing. It’s my natural reaction.
And I hate that it is.
He holds his hands in a placating manner. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mia. That’s not why I’m here.”
I don’t believe him. I’ve heard that from him so many times before.
I slide my hand behind my back, searching for the emergency buzzer.
“I just want to talk to you.” He sits down in the chair by the bed. I stop moving my hand, shifting my body a little to hide what I’m reaching for.
“W-what do you want?” I try to hold my voice steady.
“I want you to come home.”
I can feel my head shaking before I even have a chance to think through what I’m doing. I know it’s the wrong thing, and even more so when I see the flare of anger in his eyes.
I swallow past the dry in my throat as I creep my fingers outward, trying to find the buzzer.
“Mia…” He sighs, rubbing his temple, shaking his head. “That’s not the answer I want to hear.”
“What happened to your face?” I ask. A diversion tactic until I can figure a way out of this.
His face darkens. “It’s irrelevant.”
I bind my hands together.
“Mia, I came all this way, and I’m not leaving without you. And really, what do you have here? Nothing. You’re all alone. You need me. You can’t survive without me.”
I wrap my hands around my cold body.
He’s right. I am alone, but alone is better than with him.
Forbes stands. “Where are your things?”
“I don’t have anything here with me.”
“Good. That makes it easier.” He picks my folded up, dirty clothes from the side. “What the f**k are these?”
“My clothes.”
The look of disgust on his face is so familiar to me.
He’s so familiar to me.
“We’ll pick you some clothes up at the airport, but for now, get dressed.” He throws the clothes on the bed in front of me.
“Why?”
He looks at me. Anger is dominating him now. “Because we’re leaving this f**kin’ hick of a town and going home. So get your ass f**kin’ dressed!” he hisses.
This is the Forbes I know so well.
Fear controlling me, and unsure what else to do, I obediently climb off the bed and pick the clothes up to change in the bathroom.
“Where the f**k are you going?” he snaps.
“To change,” I answer in a small voice.
“Change here.” He moves across the room toward me, predatory in his step.
My heart stops. I hold still to the spot, fear still controlling me like a sickness.
Running his finger down my bare arm, he leans close to my mouth. “I’ve missed you, baby … I want to see you.”
His touch ignites painful memories of all the times he hit me, kicked me, punched me … violated me. His hand feels like a disease of the worst kind. A sick, awful disease I want off me, and away from. Now.
My heart kickstarts, and begins pumping hard in my chest.
I won’t leave here with him.
I can’t.
Holding the clothes to my chest, I lift my chin. “I’m not going back to Boston with you.”