Run From You

Prologue

His girl. I was his bloody girl. Obviously nobody was ever allowed to know who I was or see me; he kept my identity a secret, threatened everyone into silence when I come into the picture. Ironic really, to think that I'm considered 'the only girl who has power over a man, who in turn has power over everything and everyone'. I'd be lying if I said that didn't boost my ego up to a very smug extent, but it did piss me off to no end when people label me as his possession. I'm a human being, not an object.

He probably even thought of me that way; in our strange, explosive 'relationship'- if that's even what you could call it- everybody, my friends, the police, everybody only knew me as his girl. I wasn't his girl. Not even close; I think he knew that too, which is probably why, four years after i slashed his cheek, he was still interested and trying to maintain a hold over me. Did I know I had a power over him? Sure, I knew how to push his buttons. Did he love me? Ha. Don't joke. Some say he did, but they were probably people hoping to find a chink in his armor. Apparently I was that chink, if those closest to him could be believed. Another ego boost right there.

The problem with my 'relationship' with him was that it came down to fire versus fire. He was merciless, cold, violent...the list was endless; we were a lot like Heathcliff and Cathy from Wuthering Height, if you've ever read the book. A lion and a tiger. Or maybe a cat and mouse; I ran, he'd chase me.

There was a time when I thought I might love him... but he exerts so much control over everything, he ruins it. I turn a blind eye to what he is, what he does and what he's capable of. I'm not ignorant, and generally, I'm not stupid. For staying with him, I'll be the first to admit I'm the biggest idiot walking; but deep down, and I'm talking core of the earth deep down, he had a hold over me so enticing I always wanted more; so far, it was that incredibly dangerous, deliciously daring and intoxicating hold which has kept me from leaving him.

Looking around his dark hard wooded, black drapes and satin sheeted room, which screamed 'dark and dangerous' even if everything about him didn't, I decide to really look; there were no pictures of him and me, of family...no pictures whatsoever, in fact. Nothing in about the room was personalized- it resembled more of a lair. Very cagey; no wonder I felt trapped.

I suppose to onlookers like my closest friends, who knew the whole story between him and me, I probably look like I had it all; the guy nobody could touch but me, the guy many women were scared to find themselves attracted to, who gave me everything even if I wanted nothing at all. I wanted none of it, something he couldn't understand; I didn't want material things, did he understand that? No, of course he didn't. He had almost everything he wanted, and in his deluded mind he thought he'd given me everything I'd wanted. The stupid dick didn't understand me at all, even after four bloody years!

But I was done. I, Angelica Rees, am leaving, Dexter Lord. Running away and disappearing, should I say, since he'd do everything in his power to find me and he has a lot of power...then again, so do I. Not that he knew that; he knew what I wanted him to know and nothing more.

I didn't want to be found, and this time I'd make sure I wasn't. I might even leave a note, saying 'Want me to stick around? Screw you, Dexter Lord, cause I want doesn't get, especially with me.'