Page 4 of Under His Control

“Wait! Please! I need your help.”

He pauses with one foot on the first step, his back still turned to me.

“Help with what?”

A freezing breeze slaps my face right as I’m about to answer. I gasp and blink quickly, shuddering from the attack.

Winter in Toronto is tropical compared to this town. My jacket isn’t thick enough. I’m not wearing enough layers under it to handle this kind of weather.

“Can we talk inside?”

He turns slowly and pins me with that stony expression again.

“Why would I let you inside my house?”

“It’s really cold out here.”

“Then hurry up and say what you have to say. Though it’s probably nothing but lies.”

His meanness is as breathtaking as the cold. It’s not only the dry air making my eyes tear up. I was prepared for him to be unhappy to see me, not for him to be so unpleasant.

Jacob won’t help me no matter what I say. Of course he’s incapable of sympathy for me after what I did to him. But I came this far already. I might as well try.

“Mom owed someone a lot of money. After she died, he said I inherited her debt, and if I can’t pay in cash, I’ll—I’ll have to pay it in other ways.”

My skin crawls as that encounter replays in my mind. The way the stocky guy in the black leather jacket slid a predatory look over my body. It was as if his cold gaze saw through my clothes.

“Oh, so you came all the way up north to find me and beg me for money?” Jacob lets out a mocking laugh. “Unbelievable. Like mother, like daughter.”

For him to compare me to Mom is another slice in my chest, but I forget about the hurt as he stalks toward me. My body tenses. The sky is turning darker and I’m alone with a man who hates me for good reason.

“You must think I’m an idiot.” His voice is too calm for the intensity in his eyes. “You must really believe I’m the biggest chump to fall for that trick again.”

“It’s not a trick.”

“Your mother isn’t dead.”

“She is—”

“She put you up to this.”

“She didn’t! I’m telling—”

“Both of you are trying to ruin my life again.”

“Jake—”

He invades my personal space. I cave to his towering intimidation, quickly retreating to a safe distance. My heart feels like it’s trying to escape my body.

“I said leave. Don’t fucking come back.”

Another freezing breeze sweeps by, whipping strands of my hair against my numb face. Fear, shame, hurt, and regret twist together in a heavy, horrible sensation in my gut.

I back away and hurry for the driver’s side of my car. I climb in and speed down the hill while hot tears roll down my tingling cheeks.

When my vision becomes too blurry, I pull to the shoulder. I lay my arms across the wheel and my head against them. I let myself cry even though I feel pathetic doing it.

Of course my reunion with Jacob immediately went to shit. It’s stupid to cry when I knew before I left home that I was making a huge mistake.