“I’m not a fan of this new soft and sappy shit,” I hiss as I pry his hand off of my arm.
“You should apologize to her instead of continuing this shitshow,” he spits out.
When I bend his fingers backward, he winces.
“Didn’t see anything about apologizing last time I checked my contract.”
“Fuck your contract.” Max pulls his hand away and with a sigh, he presses his card against the keypad. “I’m gonna sleep in my room tonight.”
The door closes before I can tell him I don’t give a shit where he sleeps.
Asshole.
5
LILY
The door muffles the men’s agitated voices, but even if they were screaming at each other next to me, I wouldn’t be able tounderstandthem. There’s a throbbing pain in my head and as I try to calm down, black spots cloud the edges of my vision. It’s like I’m breathing in smoke, gasping for air that won’t come.
Somewhere on the way down to my lungs, it disappears. Right through the gaping hole in my chest that ripped open when I stepped foot in my house hours ago.
The last thing I see before I can no longer hold my head up is a man scrambling to pick the keys up from the table.
It’s the nice one, thank God.
Hastily, he removes the handcuffs.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself after pressing two fingers against the inside of my wrist. “You need to calm down for me, please.”
“Can’t—“ I croak. “Can’t breathe.”
“Just focus on my voice.” He takes my hand in his, crouching down next to me. “Breathe in.”
When I stop, he squeezes myhand.
“In,” he repeats, but I’m still convinced my windpipe is leaking.
“Now hold your breath.” He counts down from four and as he notices me struggling at two, he strokes over my hand with his thumb.
“And out,” he says, counting down again.
By the fifth time we’re doing this, I no longer feel like I’m close to dying.
“Better?” he asks, and I nod weakly. “Most people need at least eight rounds, so—congratulations, I guess.” With a smile on his face, he hands me a paper tissue, and I try to ignore the feeling spreading in my stomach.
“Could you please tell me why I am here? Where am I anyway?”
“Military base,” he says, avoiding my first question.
“I swear I don’t know anything. Why would I lie?”
“To cover your husband.” He pulls out a chair and sits down, his knees almost touching mine.
With a huff, I think back to how Brady helped me when a manhebrought into our house put his disgusting hands on me.
“I’m not.” My stuffy nose makes me sound ridiculous. “At least tell me what you’re accusing me of.”
“No need to get snappy,” he says, grinning at me. He’s not openly unhinged like the other one, but I feel like he isn’t harmless either. Just in a totally different way. “Do you know any of the men who had been in your house today?”
