Ten minutes later, Billy had taken Luke's car to a hardware store, and Luke, noticing the unanswered questions on the tip of Travis' tongue, made an excuse to leave us alone.
"Do you want me to ask about what that was?" Travis asked.
"What do you want to know?" I replied, leaving it up to him to decide what was ok to ask and what wasn't.
"I'm not sure, Madeline." He shrugged. "Until one of us hold secrets that affects the other, I don't see a reason why we can't have them. So, if there's something you don't want to tell me, I won't hold it against you." He explained. I nodded, showing approval of him asking questions. "What's the story with that guy? The only time I've seen you close to that passionate was when you were defending your favorite band." He grinned a little bit at the memory of me fuming over his discrediting of my music taste.
"It's a long story, and if I tried to explain it all, we'd be here for days. So, I'll just give you the round-about version. Billy is someone who was around during a time of my life that I don't like revisiting. Although he didn't really instigate too many problems, he helped Luke with some stuff that really hurt – or scared – me. Luke and I have long since worked things out, but Billy just disappeared until a few days ago. When he came back he acted as though nothing had ever happened and made me feel guilty for reacting the way I did towards his reappearance. His arrival kind of made me relapse into bad memories and being someone that I don't really have any interest in being. It's not like I think he's horrible, but the links he's tied to in my brain are ones I would much rather move past."
Travis nodded, taking in all that I had to say.
"Fair enough," He replied. "I'm glad you told me... When you say Luke did things that hurt you... are you safe with him?" He asked warily, lowering his voice slightly in case Luke was in the vicinity.
"Yeah," I assured him, "We had a rough start, but we're fine now."
Travis slid off the counter and gave me a delicate kiss on the forehead. That was a good way to end our conversation.
YOU ARE READING
Stepbrother (Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome)
Ficción General"I just want you to know how terrifying it is to have no control. Like, physically, no control over what happens to you. Nothing. Being at the mercy of someone else's hand." The look he gave me was glazed over with pain. "The thing is, you aren't th...
