Bound To A Bully

Chapter 3

Regan

He ignores me. Pretending he doesn't hear what I ask him. But I still notice how quickly his expression changes as his back stiffens on the chair. As if he is on high alert now. His aunt once called to tell me to stay away from Lincoln because she feared I might take her son's life like I took their daughter's. Does Lincoln also keep the same thought about me? I can't see any other reason for him to sit as this composer. That realization again shows me the place I belong so effortlessly that I feel constricted in my throat.

"Thanks," I try to sound sarcastic after taking my seat beside him, well, of course, keeping a distance between us. I raise my head and feel a spark when my eyes meet his, who looks away again.

My heartbeat increases. My vision gets blurry with tears of grief. Even if I break down before him, he will never understand the reason behind my tears. But we can't avoid this conversation anymore.

I spent my entire life alone in the darkness. The coldness is what I know and feel with or without him, just like those colors- grey, black and white. I am familiar with them as they are what I see around me, so I believe I can manage the rest of my life like this. But I have to confirm that he doesn't want me anymore.

His jaw sets tight, and his lips purse in a thin line when I don't say a word to him but take a brief look at him for one last time. I can't tell if we will meet again, so I let my greedy eyes take his exceptional yet unnervingly desirable features and feel a sense of loss when I think about tomorrow.

The uncertainty weakens me, but it can't stop me from living the time still left in my hand today.

Then my gaze falls on the cigarette in his hand. "Would you like to share one?"

I have never tried that before, but now I need one, even when I am warned not to touch anything during my recovery stage. I heard that addiction has the power to give momentary relief from pain. That relief I need the most now to get a hold of my emotions.

For him, it'd be easy to forget me. His hatred for me will be a reminder and keep him moving forward to help the brothers like him from losing his sister, but it will be different for me. I will miss him. To an extent, that would hurt me like hell. Kill me from inside.

I feel my heart in my mouth when he turns to look at me with nothing in his eyes. He sneers at me, "Go and buy yourself one."

I shiver as the gust of cold air passes on me. Wrapping my arms around me tightly, I look at the water sparkling in the moonlight. Water scares me, yet I keep my eyes on the pool when I tell him, heaving a breath, "I am leaving New York."

His cold eyes shift toward the pool before us. I can feel his aura that is nowhere close to soothing me. Puffing the smock out of his lips, he tugs his bottom lips between his teeth as he asks, uncaring, "Where at this time?"

My voice weavers, "I..I am not sure. Maybe it'd be NZ after spending some time at Maxim's home in Russia." Tucking my loose strand behind my ear, I blink my eyes a couple of times to push back tears threatening to escape my eyes. He shouldn't see my desperation. No matter how hard it becomes for me, I will not show how weak I've become for him. "I won't come back, Lincoln."

A gasp escapes from my mouth when he suddenly stands up and throws his cigarette on the ground before crushing it harshly under his boots in a rage. I feel my heart in my throat once again when he turns to me with nothing but anger in his eyes.

Taking a few steps, Lincoln towers over me while resting his hands on either side of my head. I have never felt so intimidated before in my life. It makes me wish to hide somewhere and come out only when this guy disappears from my sight.

"And you are telling this to me because?" He sounds too calm, which leaves an unsettling feeling in me. My breath catches my throat when his breath fans over my face when he says, bringing his mouth close as he pins me with his cold glare, "Do you think I care?"

"I. . .it doesn't matter to you. Right, Lincoln?" His question feels like a punch in my guts. It hurts me so immensely that I can't help my tears anymore. Tears streak down my eyes, and I don't struggle to hold them back. "I never meant anything to you."

For some reason, he looks baffled, and his body goes stiff. It has to be my tears that, for the first time, he notices after so much torment he puts me through. "Do you want me to tell you to stay like last time?" I see conflicting emotions start gathering in his eyes, and then he looks lost with confusion in his mind as he asks me after remembering the last time I made him tell me to stay.

And this hurts even more. A year ago, my brother found me after our eleven years of separation. The unfortunate incident with Lincoln's sister erases my childhood memories and has taken away every reason from me to survive by myself.

I cling to him, this guy I know, with whom I can relate, and feel the connection between us that I can't feel still from the bond I built with my brother. I thought I would be okay with Lincoln as we needed that healing, but now I feel like I forced him into it. He was never that weak. He never needed that rescuing that I needed from him. Yet he is wounded, and I find myself as insecure as I was.

"Go back to your home." He scoffs, looking at me. His expression is still stiff, but he looks at me like I am downright stupid. "When he didn't have anything, he fought hard to reach where he is now except for those things he does or should I say have to? He doesn't have a choice, does he? It isn't like I am telling you to follow in his footsteps, but he is an inspiration. You. . .as a girl in this century, you should invest more time in career-building instead of being hellbent on fooling yourself with your infatuation with your flings."

In the end, he hisses at me, holding my betrayal in his eyes with an accusation of being selfish still to my brother. But I am a human. I can't pretend I care when I don't, and this guy wouldn't have said this to me if he had thought hard about my current state. I have no idea why he gives me that look, but that is enough to get me on my feet, and I slap him in the face.

Because he deserves this. . .I hope this will remind him of the time he made me suffer for the things I didn't do or have a memory of.

Though his face doesn't move in the slightest because of the impact of the hit, his expression darkens, which shows me hell.

"You call my love for you a mere infatuation?" My emotions get the best of me. Before he says something, I spat, biting my trembling lips to stop myself from sobbing before this emotionless bastard, "How can you be so cold, so cruel to me, Lincoln?"

I understand that I mean nothing to him, but he has no right to say that to my face. I never begged him to love me back or even wanted his affection, but this. . .his hatred and ignorance now break something in me that even he can't fix that for me anymore.

"You. . .what?" He looks speechless with his furrowed eyebrows. "Are you f*****g insane?" He spats, which leaves me shuddering in dread in my place. "You. . .love me?" He utters it like he doesn't know anything about my feelings for him. "That's insane!"

"Your sister was my friend too. You know that. And I refuse to believe she didn't say anything about me to you." Glaring at him with my brimming eyes, I clutch my purse to my chest, which feels like breaking into pieces. "Meredith was always nice to me when I was at her house, living as a poor maid's daughter. I didn't know who I had lost, but I had felt empty for the last four years without any memory. I can't even remember my parents now, Lincoln. All those memories kept me company whenever I felt a sense of loss. Now I have nothing." I whisper as more tears start to flow down my face. "I am scared of making friends even. Do you know that?"

Lincoln looks too shocked to say anything in his defense. And I don't want to hear his reasons anymore.

He has been with those girls from school and our racing track because he wanted to hurt me. And then today, I caught him with that girl kissing on his lap beside Logan. Everyone in the hall noticed that. He looked unfazed then by those eyes on him. Oblivious to how much it hurts to see him with someone else. He doesn't care because that's what he wants me to feel every time we meet.

I was always strong, but I can't put up with that act anymore.

That's fine with me now. He gives me a much-needed reality check, and I am taking his advice about returning to my brother's place.

I gaze at the pool. . .the water that takes everything from me once. How my cursed friendship cost one life is still a mystery to me, but his sister's death leaves me guilty. I can never forgive myself for that, but still, I will live to see how things turn out in the end.

"I am giving you what you have always wanted. Me out of your life, don't you still?" Wiping tears from my face, I try to smile at him, but my voice betrays me. "Life will be hard without you, but I will be happy knowing you have someone to lean on." He also says nothing but stares at me only. Yet I tell him when he turns stiffer the more he hears me telling him the exact reason behind him distancing himself from his friends, "Don't hurt those brothers you have for your fear that you may lose them like you lost Meredith."

Taking one last look, I turn around and walk away from him.

I know he will not tell me to stay this time. And I don't think I will allow myself to get hurt by him again like that. So, shoot him!

That heartless pig!

Never in my life had I ever cried before anyone, but he just ignored it! Then call me a nutcase for loving him?

It is the night of my friend's wedding. I leave the hall to have this word exchange with this cruel thing. Look how cold he is towards me. How have I forgotten those days he captivated me in that beautifully horrible cage on his island for six days? He didn't see my tears then. He didn't care about me and my fear. He didn't seem to see the need to apologize for messing with my life.

Maybe I am stupid. A sane person can't fall for a guy like him who puts me in trouble only to make me want to push through all the obstacles the world throws in my way. He had done it before, which taught me to survive in the dark. But tonight, I let this man go.

Stumbling on my way, I leave the banquet and hail a cab for home.

I don't want to ruin the night of my schoolmates. My pain is mine alone, and I can't break that cool girl's image I built in their minds.

Arriving at my one-room apartment after an hour, I freshen up fast before dragging my luggage out of my room to the living room. After checking my passport and ticket, I pull up the zipper in my bag before heading to my room to rest before I catch my flight.

I didn't lie to him when I said I would leave this city. My boarding time is in the afternoon the next day, but nobody, not even my brother, knows about the time. Maxim will know about my departure eventually, as he has his people watching over me, and that freaks me out every time, not having much faith in those eyes who once betrayed our late parents and made us an orphan.

No one will feel my absence around them here in this city after some months, but I will miss the man I love.

What about me made him hate me the most? Was that my tomboy appearance? Or me, being the reason for his elder sister's death?

Sighing in defeat, I pull the duvet over me.

My eyelids start to feel heavy. I close my eyes and doze off fast, only to wake up at around four, maybe because of the vibration of my phone that I left on the bedside table. With my eyes still close, I receive the call and press it on my ear, "Who is that?"

What I hear from the caller makes me jump out of my bed in horror. "I will be there in ten minutes. Could you please not let anyone get close to him?" Damn, where the hell is my key? I curse internally for not finding my motorcycle's key when I need it the most.

"Okay, I'm coming. Don't worry. He will be okay." Cutting the call, I throw a long coat on my nighty and leave my apartment in a hurry. Thankfully, I have shorts on, so it doesn't look awkward to ride my motorcycle on that street half-naked.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Inwardly, I ask myself about what I am doing and what makes me do it.

I don't know why I am rushing there. After that conversation we had, there shouldn't be anything left between us or mend things up, but my heart. . .I have no control over it. And I am glad about one thing: I am not cruel. I can't be that to Lincoln, who is my savior.

Reaching the patio of his home, the guard immediately opens the gate for me, looking very tense. I pass the key to him and stumble forward when I hear the ear-piercing crushing sound coming from the second floor of the mansion before me.

"For how long?" I make a panic sound, and for the first time in my life, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Since he has returned home, which couldn't be more than half an hour." The guard sounds concerned, and I follow him, matching his steps as he hurries toward the mansion. Climbing the small staircase, we reach the door when the man says, "I tried Sir Logan and Eleanor and other people's numbers, but they didn't pick up the call. Maybe they didn't hear the ring. You gave me your number last time you came with Ms. Brooklyn for project work, so I thought about- "

"No, it's okay. I am glad you called me, sir." I try to force a smile at him, but after noticing him smuggling to unlock the door with the keys in his hand, it rips the air from me. He even types the digits on the keypad, but the result remains the same. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, ma'am. I can't decide what to do. . .No matter how many times I try to open the door, i---it. . ." His breathing turns uneven. Taking long and deep breaths, he tries to calm himself down, "I call whoever I know to confirm the passcode, but. . .I can't remember it. I tried to. . .my mind is not working. W-what should I do?" My throat feels constricted when I see tears rolling down his cheeks, "The boy looks hurt. And blood. I don't know what happened, but I---I told him to let me in or call the doctor, but he. . ."

"Sir, please. Calm down." I hold his shoulder and squeeze it lightly. Seeing the middle-aged man crying like that. . .not only did it scare me, but I almost broke down. Controlling my emotions, I smile at him reassuringly, "We will find a way. Nothing will happen to him. It's a promise. You hear me?" He manages to nod, then I ask, "Now, please take me to the back door or the pool area."

"This way, ma'am,"

He stammers, and I follow him with hurried steps, swallowing hard when his screams and the breaking sound grow.

Desperately, I look at the windows and know I can't climb that easily when there is no support to hold onto to sneak in. I hope Lincoln is okay. The decision to leave him forever and we might not meet again is already breaking me inside. And then, he is doing this again. Why, Lincoln? When will you ever stop? What should I do to make you stop hurting yourself like that?

Somehow, I manage to find a way to get into his god-awful house. After telling the guard to keep trying Lincoln's friends' numbers, I climb the pipe close to the chimney of his kitchen. Rich people and their lifestyle. Barely two people stay for not even three days a week, but they need a kitchen on every floor they build. Check their card history, and you will be surprised how someone so rich orders takeouts and still looks fit and pimple-free face with their unhealthy habits.

To keep my mind off his screams and the crushing sound of the furniture, I indulge myself in thinking about random stuff so that I don't lose my footing and my heart's pounding sound isn't the only sound I hear, which will make me lose my focus on cutting the internal pipe to enter the hole. Jumping down the kitchen aisle, I put the tools I'd borrowed from the guard earlier and head out of the kitchen to go directly to his room, avoiding stepping on the glass pieces spread over the floor.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take the stairs and push the door open of his room, revealing the broken furniture and the dark-colored scheme of his room, which makes me open the door all the way to step inside, and air knocks on my lung when my eyes find him sitting on the floor, pressing the barrel of his gun below his throat!

"Oh, my god! Lincoln! No!"

I shriek in horror. He looks startled at my scream, and his eyes snap at me; it scares me how dark and gloomy his eyes look, and I know at that instant that he is losing it. It makes me halt in my step abruptly.

My mind screams that we should run, but when my eyes fall on his thumb on the trigger, I rush toward him, not caring about the glass beneath my feet or even my life. Little did I know this one step would change my life forever.