Chapter 57: LOST

MIA

Three days in and I couldn't remember the last time I'd been alone in a room.

During those days, he didn't go to “work” and said he could do it from home. And just like that, he was always in every room I was in, “coincidentally” walked through whatever hallway I was in and even when I was in the bathroom, he would make sure to knock a few minutes in.

He also told me to go back to my normal life where I had to force myself to edit pictures while he watched me, brought me food and coffee and each time my phone lit up with a notification or call, he would lean in and see it before I did.

Now, my phone rang and he looked at it.

"Its a call from one of the studios I work with.” I said, picking it up before he could say anything. “I need to go in and check some equipments, they had sent an email about it a while back and I am certain that is why they called.”

"It's not safe right now."

I frowned. "It's the middle of the day."

"After everything that happened, I'm not comfortable with you going anywhere alone." He spoke calmly like he was being reasonable and this was common sense which I was making difficult.

I did expect him to be protective but not… this.

"When can I leave?"

"When I know you won't run again."

"So never."

"Don't be dramatic."

I felt angry at this."I'm not being dramatic. You're literally describing a life sentence and trying to call it some twisted form of protection. Don't you think I would have picked lin at the warehouse if I didn't want to come back with you?”

He clenched his jaw. “I am just trying to keep you safe.”

"You want to keep me in a cage!” I finally snapped, unable to stop it. “I feel suffocated. I cant move around because you are in every room I enter, I cant pick up calls and now, I cant even go to my own studio. You are suffocating me, Dante.”

He looked completely unfazed even as I fell apart. “You are just adjusting and I know it has been a hard few days.”

Why did I sign up for this?

"Don't tell me what I'm feeling."

"I'm not. I'm telling you what's actually happening, which is that you're scared and you're projecting that fear onto me because I'm the safest target for it."

That was the moment something in me just broke loose.

I grabbed the mug off the counter, the one nearest my hand, and threw it at him.

It wasn't aimed well so it hit the wall beside his head and shattered into a million pieces, raining down on the ground. He didn't even react to that like I had expected but grabbed my wrists.

The next thing I knew, both my hands were in his gasp and he walked me back until my shoulders hit the wall and he pinned my hands above my head, holding me there. His grip wasn't hurting but just firm enough that I couldn't move.

"Don't do that, love," he said.

His voice was so gentle.

That was the part that scared me more than anything else that had happened in the last three days. He was acting like I was a child who had accidently dropped something fragile and he was being soft, patient and completely unbothered.

What side of him is this? How do I react to this?

Was he bipolar? His attitude was giving me whiplash. I wanted to see the mafia Dante but no matter how hard I tried, it was as if I kept pushing him further away from that version and more towards whatever this version was.

I was afraid. Fully terrified. Even at the warehouse I hadn't felt this was with all the guns pointed at me.

Then he let go, stepped back and looked at his hands.

"I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, something almost like panic flickering across his face for the first time since I'd known him. "You made me—"

"No."

He stopped.

"Don't finish that sentence," I said. "Don't tell me I made you do that. This is who you are. This has always been who you are. I just finally got to see it without the mask on."

He stared at me and for once he didn't have a response.

"I need air," he said finally.

"Then go."

He looked at me a moment longer and I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes but couldn't figure out what he was thinking then he grabbed his jacket and without another word, he walked out.

I stood there, calming myself as I heard the door shut and then… a deadbolt?

“What the fuck?”

I ran to the door and sure enough, there were new locks that I hadn't taken note of.

I wanted to scream but knew it would be of no use so I walked back to the kitchen and looked owqn at the broken ceramic at my feet, listening to his footsteps faded down the hall way and it dawned on me with sudden clarity.

I was trapped in an apartment forty floors up and in the air so there was no escape.

I slowly sank to my knees and felt helpless fo the first time ever as I looked down at my hands and realized how badly I had miscalculated how much room his obsession left for me to actually do anything for me.

I should have planned better.