If anything, I was more drawn to his “good girl” than ever before.
Every time he passed by me, he’d glare me down. Every time we were alone in my office or his, he found a way to slip something in that made my heart skip a beat. And while I was wary of my own sick, twisted desires, I kept turning over something he had said in my head.
JoJo said that he owed his father, even now, for covering up what had happened when we were all teenagers.
And it made me wonder if Maggie was somehow indebted to him as well.
Despite the trial coming up, though, JoJo doubled down his efforts. He made it harder and harder for me to get him alone, which made it harder and harder for us to talk. Which was probably his goal: to make sure we didn’t get another chance to talk. If we weren’t surrounded by co-workers, I was buried underneath so much work that sometimes, I slept in my office.
Despite everything that had happened, I wanted him to touch me again.
It was the only thing that felt familiar in my life anymore.
“Come on, get a fucking grip,” I grumbled.
All of it was so wrong, and yet it was all I wanted. I figured understanding the truth would finally get me to back off Joseph once and for all, but it did the opposite: I wanted to hold him. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to confront his bullshit fucking father, slap him across the face, and have words with a man that had tortured both the man I loved and my sister.
Holy shit, I’m in love with JoJo.
“I need to call Michael,” I murmured to myself.
I tried. I honestly gave it my best shot. I stood my ground and learned how to stand up for myself when I knew it made sense. I juggled his hot and cold settings like a professional most days and didn’t bat an eye at the thousands of dollars’ worth of overtime that man was paying me just to make sure I stayed within the four walls of my office, so he knew where I was at every second of every day. I knew I had this fucked-up sex thing happening that held me hostage. I knew, in the forefront of my mind, that I needed to break free. I knew that my proclivities were becoming an issue. And I figured that the answer was to pull away from Joseph all together. I figured that if I removed myself from his service, so to speak, that I’d be able to find a fulfilling relationship outside of work instead of allowing some bully to invade my every orifice.
Yet somehow, JoJo had put me under his spell.
“I’m such an idiot,” I whispered to myself.
And it wasn’t like Michael was a terrible person! He always knew how to screw my head on straight. He always knew how to make me feel better. He always knew how to make me feel normal and accepted and good. Michael was a great catch. Any woman would’ve been lucky to have him at her side. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that.
The infatuation will pass, and then what?
Michael was better than a second choice. In fact, he was everything I thought I wanted in a man and a future husband. So, what if the voices in my head were incorrect? What if I got over this weird infatuation with my boss and came back down to earth? What, then? I’d want Michael. I knew I would. Sexual exploration was no excuse for ruining my life simply because my boss wanted to ruin me for other men. I couldn’t give that kind of power over to him. I had to keep myself afloat in all of this. And as I picked up my phone with my thoughts swirling, I stared at Michael’s number. I hovered my finger over it, debating on whether or not to call him and cancel things between us all together.
Don’t trap yourself, it’s what JoJo wants. But, is it what you want?
So, with every ounce of courage I could muster, I swiped away from his number and closed the screen of my phone.
Before I drew in a deep breath and got back to work.
29
Rebecca
With the trialinching its way into my life and me no closer to finding a way to sleep, I took advantage of the first holiday weekend we had at the company. The Fourth of July was almost upon us, which meant we had both Friday and Monday off. So, instead of clueing Joseph into what I was going to do, I kept silent about the ticket home that I booked.
I needed to look my sister in the eye and tell her that I knew.
What I wanted was the truth. Well, not necessarily. What I wanted was the truth from my sister. I knew that if my parents understood the truth of what really happened, they wouldn’t hate JoJo as much as they did. Plus, they’d get Mags the kind of help she really needed instead of cooping her away like they were trying to do. My sister said it herself: all she wanted was to live a normal life. I wanted her to know that it was possible.
If she came clean and admitted that she needed help beyond what Mom and Dad could give her.
I didn’t even inform my family that I was coming home. I simply showed up on their doorstep. I drew in a deep breath before I knocked on the door, gripping my travel bag in my left hand.
And when Mom swung the door open, she squealed.
“Rebecca! Oh, my goodness!”
She wrapped her arms around me as Dad came barreling in from the backyard. He was covered in grass and dirt, but I didn’t care. I wrapped him up in the tightest hug imaginable as Mags slinked herself down the stairs, staying quiet as she waited her turn.
