"You don't have a choice, angel," he says.
"Yes, I do," I snap. "I have a choice, I always have a choice."
He leans forward then, his eyes locking onto mine. "Do you?" The question hangs in the air between us. "Because from where I'm sitting," he continues, "you got in this car willingly, you trusted your father to keep you safe, look where that got you."
My breath catches. "What did you do?"
"Nothing permanent," he says. "I just made sure the right driver picked you up, and dear old daddy thinks you're on your way to America right now, safe and sound."
"You..." My voice trails off.
"I outsmarted him," he says. "Yes, I did, I'm very good at what I do, Iris, what I do is win." I stare at him, trying to find away out of this, any way out. "Are you scared?" he asks. "I can see it, your hands are shaking, your breathing is uneven, you're terrified."
"Of course I'm terrified," I say. "You threatened to do horrible things, you killed someone, how am I supposed to feel?"
"Tell me specifically what I threatened," he says, leaning closer. "Tell me exactly what has you so scared, I don't remember ever threatening to murder you angel."
"You said you'd..." I start, then stop.
"I said I'd what, spit it out baby?" he presses. "That I'd make you mine? That I'd fuck you until you remember who you belong to? That I'd put a baby in you so you can never leave me again?"
I flinch at the words. His smile widens. "You're scared of how much you want it."
"That's not true," I whisper.
"Isn't it?" he asks. "Deep down, you want me to take the choice away from you, you want me to make the decision so you don't have to feel guilty about wanting me back, about loving me."
"You don't know what I want," I say.
"Don't I?" he asks, reaching out slowly, his hand cupping my face. "Look at me, Iris, really look at me." I do look at him, I can't help it.
He looks the same, the face I've seen in my dreams every night since I left, the hands I know could kill me or worship me with equal intensity, the eyes that strip away every defense I try to build.
But there's something else there now, it's desperate and broken. "I love you," he says. "I love you so much it's killing me,every day without you is torture, every night I wake up reaching for you, you're not there, I can't eat properly, can't sleep more than a few hours, can't think about anything except getting you back, I know I'm not supposed to say that, I know it makes me sound weak, but I don't care anymore, I'm done pretending I can live without you."
My eyes burn with tears I refuse to let fall. "You gave my family one year to surrender everything," I say. "You said you'd never stop targeting them, you said you couldn't forgive them, you made me choose between you and everyone I love, what was I supposed to do with that?"
"I was trying to compromise," he says. "I could have killed them all immediately, I wanted to kill them, I still want to kill them every single day, but I gave them time for you, that was me trying, Iris, that was me being better."
"That's not compromise," I say. "Compromise would be leaving them alone completely, not threatening them, not giving them ultimatums, just letting them exist."
"Your family are not innocent in this," he says coldly. "You still want me to forget and forgive, that's not something somebody can get back from."
"I'm not asking you to forgive," I say, tears spilling over. "I'm asking you to choose me."
"It's not that simple," he says.
"It is that simple," I counter. "You just don't want it to be."
He groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Why do you even care about them in the first place? You don't know these people, Iris. You barely know them? How many weeks did you get to know them? But you know me, you know I would take a bullet for you, I've killed for you, I've bled for you,so why are you so hell bent on protecting them? Why are you making me the villain when they started this?"
"Even if I don't know them well, even if what they did was wrong, I don't support killing when I can stop it," I respond. "You claim you love me, you say you'd do anything for me, but it's not showing in your actions."
"Not showing?" he repeats, his voice dangerous. "How is that not showing?"
"Because you're still threatening them," I tell him. "You gave them a year but you're counting down the days until you can kill them, that's not love, that's delayed revenge."
"What do you want from me?" he asks, his voice breaking. "You want me to forget what they did? I can't do that, Iris, it's not in me."
