You Own Me (12 page)

He’d figured it out.

There was a lot of time to think in prison and when she’d closed up on him the one time he’d asked, he’d let himself puzzle it out.

He knew from the trial how Elizabeth and Hamilton had met, and he knew just how long they’d dated, and details he really wished he hadn’t needed to know.

She’d done it because he’d hurt her—that one time he’d thought he saw something in her eyes, he’d been right. He’d hurt her and Hamilton had seen a way to get at Decker. Lizzie might not have known how he felt, but plenty of others had seen it, and Hamilton had spent three weeks rubbing Decker’s face in it.

You ever had your hands on her? She’s a little too big for me, but man, those tits…

You think she’s the kind to go down? With that mouth, I bet she will.

Don’t go expecting to see Lizzie tonight. There’s a party…and I’m taking her
.

Decker had tried to warn her about Hamilton, but for those three weeks, there had been a chasm between them.

That chasm didn’t matter, though, not to him.

He’d gone to the party.

It had been all loud music and kids already boozed up. Shouts and laughter had flooded his ears…until the screams took over.

It had ended in blood.

And with a young man dead under him. A man he’d killed with his own hands while Lizzie huddled on the floor, her clothes half-ripped off, bruises blooming on her pale skin, her mouth busted and one eye blackened.

He reached for one of the letters and opened the envelope.

It was dated. A quick glance showed that it was a year and half after he’d gone inside.

Please stay safe. You’re my best friend…I’m sorry I was so mad at you. Stay safe, Deck. I need you.

She wrote him, one letter every week.

He wrote her…two letters. But he only ever sent one.

She’d needed him for a friend, so that was what he gave her. The other letter was the one that held all the bits and pieces of himself he’d never let out.

Once, while he’d been writing the two letters, his cellmate, the tattoo artist, Luther, had given him a funny look and just shook his head.
You ought to send her the letter you really want her to read, son. You never know when you’ll run out of chances.

Nobody knew that better than him.

His chance had slid by without him even realizing it. It had been too late then.

Or so he’d thought.

There was a beep from his phone and he shot it a cursory glance. Email. He hated email. Something he’d never gotten used to. If it wasn’t for the texts and calls he got from Lizzie, he’d give up the phone. Not like he had that much money to spare. But he wouldn’t sever any connection he had to her.

There was another chime.

Groaning, he grabbed it and punched the icon that brought up his email.

When he saw the sender, his heart stopped.

He’d gone back to Lizzie’s earlier—he’d come home to get these letters. It was high time he tell her the secrets, but she’d been gone. So he’d tell her later.

Or maybe not.

It was a message from
Wanna Play
—from Lizzie.

I can’t come tonight. Actually not any night, O. My head is in a bad place and I don’t need to be dating right now.

He swore and went to the next message.

I’m sorry
.

He lurched upward, all but ran to the computer he’d bought used off eBay and fired it up. It took too long to load but finally he was on the website. She was online. Fuck, yes.

Please reconsider.
He sent the private message then shoved a hand through his hair.

For a moment, there wasn’t a reply.

I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can’t give you anything right now. I’m closing my profile here. I need to get myself together and figure things out, O.

Closing her profile—hot damn, that was good.

But…

I can understand that. I’ve been a mess a few times myself. There’s just…look, I’d like to talk to you. Just once. Please
.

She had a hard time telling people no. He hated it when people took advantage, including himself.

But right then, he needed a yes.

Fine. But not dinner. There’s a bar, called Rush. Will that work? I’ll have a friend bring me. She hangs out there a lot
.

A friend. Selah. Selah…not him.

Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be calling him for tonight.

Didn’t matter, he’d be there anyway.

“You look like shit,” Selah shouted over the music.

“Gee. Thanks.”

“What?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“What’s going on with you anyway?” Selah leaned in closer this time. “I mean…you and Decker—”

Elizabeth shot her a narrow look.

Selah clamped her mouth shut. “
Mierda
. So no you and Decker?”

“I…hell. I don’t know.”

“That why you didn’t call him tonight?”

The beat of the music was making her head pound. She also felt a little queasy from the potato skins she’d eaten. No food all day and then all that grease on an empty stomach. Perfect.

“Selah? Can we just…not talk? I’m feeling lousy,” she said, raising her voice. She buried her face in her hands and tried to brace herself to get up and go find a two-top to wait for O.

“You know, you should have…hey. Decker. Why are you here?”

Tension slammed into her. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked up.

She had a fleeting hope that Selah was playing with her, but…nope.

Decker stood by the table, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He wore a button-down shirt instead of his normal T, one that opened up and revealed the tattoos. She had an image of the way she’d laid across him last night and kissed some of those tattoos.

He wasn’t looking at her, though.

“Selah, can you get lost?”

The woman laughed. “If I didn’t know you loved me, I’d be insulted.” She bumped her hip against Elizabeth’s. “Let me up.”

Numb, Elizabeth got up, grabbing her bag. She needed to find a place to wait for O. He’d said he’d be wearing a black button-down.

Her gaze skipped to Decker.

A black button-down—

Jerking her eyes away, she looked around. “I need to go,” she said, not looking at either of the people standing at the end of the table. “I’ve got to find—”

Decker just talked right over her. “Thanks, Selah.”

And then he caught her hand. “Can you come outside, Lizzie?”

“I’m meeting somebody.”

His blue eyes met hers. “Do you see him?”

Helplessly, she looked around.
I’m a big guy. I’ll be wearing a black button-down. I’ll find you if you don’t find me
.

The only big guy with a black button-down was Decker.

“No, but…”

“Then come on. You can keep looking.”

Selah waggled her fingers at her before disappearing into the crowd. Helpless, she let Decker lead her through the crowd. They didn’t head out the side door, though.

They went to the front.

Not a bad idea. Easier to see who was coming in. Right?

Out in the parking lot, she tugged on her arm and Decker let go.

She decided to get a jump on things. Better than way. “Decker, look, about last night—”

“Lizzie…”

“No, just let me finish,” she said, linking her hands behind her back as she started to pace.
Finish…finish? I don’t even know how to start.
She spun back around and started toward him.

Only to come to a dead stop.

Decker had his hand up.

His right palm.

It faced her and she saw, then, something she’d never seen.

“It’s a promise,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And a fact. It’s been a fact pretty much from that first day when you refused to let me chase you off.”

Stunned, she just stared at the tattoo.

You own me
.

His hand curled into a fist and he slowly lowered it to his side and now, with nothing between them, she found herself staring into his eyes. Her heart thudded so hard, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it.

“Lizzie.”

Shaking her head, she backed away.

He caught her, his hands closing around her upper arms. “Don’t,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You ran away from me once—twice. I get it, I understand it. But don’t run away from me now.”

“You
lied
to me. You made a fool of me,” she said, her voice thick. “What…what is this? Am I too stupid to take care of myself on that site and you thought it would go better if you were on there, too?”

“No.” He kissed her, brushing his lips over her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. She went to bite him—hard—and he let her. “No,” he said again, sliding one arm around her. “I did it for the same reason I came to your house that night when you saw me with Jeannette. I did it because I love you. I always have…I told you hundreds, thousands of times.”

She stiffened in his arms.

“You’ve never told me,” she said, shaking her head.

He let her arms go, then. It was, he realized, now or never.

“I did.” He slid the backpack of his shoulder and went to his knees on the long, rambling deck that wrapped around most of Rush. People were looking at them oddly, but he didn’t care. Unzipping the backpack, he emptied it and envelopes spilled out around her feet.

He grabbed one at random. It didn’t matter which one it was because they all told the same story.

He held it out to her.

For the longest time she didn’t move—she barely even seemed to breathe. Then she reached out and closed her fingers around the letter.

As she started to read, he just stayed where he was.

She hadn’t realized it, but he would have gone to his knees for her at any time in the past twelve years. It didn’t faze him at all to be there now.

Her eyes raced over the sheet of paper and it seemed that tears gleamed in the depths of that warm brown gaze.

“What is this?” she whispered.

“The letters,” he said. “Every week, you wrote. I always wrote back. The letters you got were the ones that had what you needed to hear…you wanted a friend, so I said what a friend would say.” He lifted a letter, eyed the date on the envelope. He’d dated each one, on the back. This one was just a few weeks before he was released. Without opening it, he held it out.

She took it with no hesitation this time.

Dear Lizzie

I have a parole meeting coming up. If they listen, I could see you soon. If not, well, we both know what that means. I’m just here another year.

A part of me hopes I’ll just stay here. As much as I need to see you, as much as I want to walk around someplace besides these walls, everything I was hoping for is just gone.

I held on to one thing.

You never really dated anybody the whole time I was here. I put too much stock in that, because part of me let myself believe that you were waiting for me.

Just like I’ve been waiting for you.

I guess it would have helped to tell you. I should have sent these letters, even just one. Could have tried to tell you the truth, tell you that I love you.

But I didn’t.

If I get out, it’s going to be to find you with this Noel guy.

If he makes you happy, I’ll be happy for you.

That’s a promise.

Here’s another.

You own me.

Love, Decker

Clutching that letter in her hand, along with the first one, Elizabeth bent down, grabbed another, half tore the envelope to get it out. She saw the date, four years ago, before she met Noel. When they were still just watching the calendar, because he still had so much time to go.

Dear Lizzie… Christmas…snowing outside… I miss you. Next time…don’t cry.

No regrets, Lizzie. Not for me.

I’d do it all over again if it kept you safe.

You own me.

Love, Decker.

She grabbed another.

You own me

Love, Decker

Another.

You own me
.

Trembling, hands full of letters, she went to her knees and looked up, met those blue eyes she’d thought she knew. And she
did
know them. There were just…truths, she realized.

Truths he’d hidden. The same way she had.

“Why?” she whispered.

“I couldn’t keep quiet anymore,” he said, not understanding. He reached out.

She cringed away. “No.
Why
do you love me? How
can
you? It’s my fault you went to jail. It’s
my
fault you were there that night—that I even ended up in trouble with Hamilton.”

His eyes narrowed and fire flashed in them.

But just like that, the look faded and he reached out.

Close by, somebody said something and Decker shot a look over her shoulder—it was that deadly, dangerous look that would make so many stumble over their feet to get away—and then, eyes softening, he looked back at her.

“No.” He rubbed his lips over hers. “Lizzie, what happened to Hamilton wasn’t your fault. It happened because he tried to rape you—he
hurt
you and that’s the one thing I would do anything to stop. You know that. He hurt you…he was hurting you when I came in there and I lost it. It’s
my
fault I lost control and killed him. But it’s
his
fault he ever put his hands on you like that. None of it is your fault.”

“I only went out with him because I was mad at you. I saw you with Jeanette and I
hated
it.”

“And I had sex with Jeannette because you were out of my league, but every time I saw you, I died a little inside because I wanted you so much. I couldn’t touch anybody without seeing you.” He brushed the tears away from her cheeks.

And then he stole her breath as he brushed her mouth with his. “Lizzie, we were kids. I was a stupid fool who couldn’t control his temper…or other things. You trusted the wrong guy. But nobody is to blame for what Hamilton did except him.”