Bound to my Enemy novel Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Chapter 115.

Her brows knit together.

"You thought I was taken."

"Yes who wouldn’t ."

Her expression shifts again with something soft flickering there.

"You went to the bridge we fell from."

"Yes."

"And?"

"And there was blood."

She swallows.

"I hit my head when I climbed out," she says quietly. "It wasn’t much."

I step closer and cup the back of her head gently, my fingers sliding into her damp hair.

"Le t me see."

She winces slightly as she tilts her head, there’s a small cut near her scalp. Nothing deep luckily

But the sight of it makes my stomach twist.

"I told you not to leave," I say.

"I know."

"It wasn’t a suggestion ."

"And I’m not a fuckign prisoner in this house, I don’t even know why I came back here. I could have just gone back to my house."

My jaw tightens.

"You’re alive," I say. "That’s the only reason I’m not having Aaron’s head on a platter."

Her eyes flash.

"You don’t get to control where I go because you have enemies."

"You almost ended up in the river and dead because of those enemies!.."

"But I didn’t."

I step back slightly, forcing space between us before I say something I won’t take back.

"You scared me, El." I say instead.

The admission feels strange in my mouth..... and her expression changes immediately.

"I wasn’t taken," she says softly.

"I didn’t know that then."

Silence settles.

Her chin lifts slightly.

"I’m not fragile."

"I never said you were."

"You treat me like I am... like .... Like I’m some glass that would easily break ."

I step forward again, lowering my voice.

"I treat you like you matter."

That stops her and for a second, neither of us speaks.

Water drips slowly from the hem of her clothes onto the floor.

"You’re shaking," I say.

"I’m cold."

I take her hand without asking and start toward the hallway to our bedroom.

"Where are we going."

"To get you dry."

"I can walk by myself without you dragging me around."

"I know."

I don’t let go anyway.

Upstairs, in the bedroom I release her long enough to grab a towel and press it into her hands.

She stands there watching me like she’s trying to read something in my face.

"You were going to tear the city apart," she says quietly.

"Yes."

"For me."

"Yes."

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