“It was natural that they made me sad at first. All those years we missed together.”
“Are you still mad at your parents?”
She exhaled and looked away, finding the topic a difficult one. “Yes. But I think I’ll come to terms with it. Someday. I know they thought they were doing the right thing for me.”
“I agree,” Jacob said.
She gave him a sharp glance. “They were wrong, though.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. They both knew her parents were wrong. They hadn’t understood Jake’s and her connection. They’d considered her connection to that boy to be an adolescent infatuation, a side effect of her trauma . . . something to be erased so that she could get back to her old, safe life. They hadn’t realized that their precious daughter had been changed forever in those West Virginia mountains.
“It wasn’t the trauma of being kidnapped that made me so dysfunctional and anxiety-ridden for years, Jake,” she said quietly. “Believing you were dead was the final straw. My parents were responsible for me thinking that. I was smothered by guilt and sadness. I’d never truly felt like the world was random and meaningless and scary as hell until my parents told me you were dead.”
“That’s a pretty good description of how I felt,” he said after a pause. “When I thought you were forgetting me. And then eventually, when I finally accepted you’d forgotten.”
She inhaled for courage.
“Jacob, do you love me?”
He started slightly at the question.
“I only ask because you haven’t been . . . you know. Wanting to have sex. Ever since Regina died,” she stated bluntly in a rush.
His expression darkened. “You think I don’t want to have sex with you?” he asked quietly.
“I assume not, because we haven’t. And you’ve put me off quite a few times.”
He made a hissing sound and stood abruptly.
“Jacob?” She gently moved aside a dozing Milo and stood. He abruptly turned to her, his eyes stormy.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
She blinked at his terse question. “I guess not,” she replied dubiously.
He raked his fingers through his hair in obvious frustration.
“Jacob? Just tell me,” she insisted, becoming alarmed at how tense the topic had made him. Had she been wrong to bring it up?
“It hasn’t been since Regina died that we haven’t had sex,” he said. “It’s been ever since you understood I was Jake Tharp.”
Her mouth hung open. “What difference does that make?”
“It makes all the difference in the world.” He exhaled in frustration when she just stared at him in bewilderment. “I want to restrain you, Harper. Tie you up. Have you at my mercy. That hasn’t changed. You want to know if I love you?” he asked, stepping toward her. She resisted an urge to step back, he looked so fierce. “I worship the ground you walk on. I love you more than anything on this earth. I’d sacrifice everything for you.”
“Then why—”
“Because when you didn’t know I was Jake Tharp, when you didn’t know that we’d both been abused by the same man, when you didn’t know that the man who was tying you up to his bed was the same person who had untied you from that monster’s ropes . . . well, it was all a damn different scenario, wasn’t it?”
She just stared at him for a moment, shocked, trying desperately to absorb what he was saying . . . what he meant. Her heartbeat began to throb in her ears, and it finally hit her.
“You’re worried I’ll think you’re like Emmitt?”
His face stiffened. “I’m not,” he replied succinctly.
Compassion poured through her. “I couldn’t agree more,” she blazed. She shook her head. “Jacob, you told me in the beginning of our relationship that it was our choice, what we wanted sexually. You never make me feel anything but cherished and prized. And safe. Don’t you know that?”
His fierce expression broke slightly. She stepped toward him, placing her hands on his chest.