Page 34 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
My hands flex against the restraints, but I keep the movement small, controlled.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “Why am I here?”
He studies me for a second, head tilting slightly, like the question doesn’t quite make sense to him.
“I had to bring you here,” he says. “You weren’t listening.”
My stomach tightens.
“That’s not an answer.”
Something flickers in his expression, tightening briefly.
“I gave you space,” he says, like he’s correcting me. “After everything. After we ended, I didn’t come near you. I let you settle.”
The words land slowly, wrong in a way I can’t immediately place.
“I ended it,” I say.
His jaw shifts.
“That’s what you think happened.”
My pulse ticks higher.
“You wanted to be alone,” he continues, like he’s explaining something simple. “So I made sure you were.”
The words don’t make sense at first. Then they do. Cold. Sharp.
The video.
My chest tightens.
“You did that so no one would touch me,” I say, the understanding settling in fully now.
His expression eases.
Finally.
“Yes,” he says. “And it worked.”
My stomach drops.
“You stayed out of the public,” he continues, something almost pleased threading through his voice. “You stopped putting yourself in situations where people could take advantage of you. You were… better.”
Better.
The word lands heavy.
“And then you started again,” he adds, the shift returning, the edge creeping back in. “Going out. Meeting people. Letting them get close.”
Elijah.
Jackson.
Zach.
The names sit unspoken between us.
