“Did I prove it to you? Was it good enough that you won’t tell your boss the truth?” she asks, her voice so raw it scratches along my spine like skeletal fingers. A sense of foreboding stills my attempt to herd her out of the limo’s back seat. “I hope that was worth it, because if you ever try to do anything like that again, I’ll cut off your dick and shove it down your throat.”
Threats of violence sharpen her gaze, washing away any remnants of hurt she may be feeling. As I watch, she brushes the evidence of our little tryst from the wrinkles in her dress, tucks away the emotions ravaging her face, and pastes on a robotic expression. Everything inside me stills, watching her wipe awayher personality like she’s factory resetting a printer until all signs of the woman who makes my blood light up with sparks of life disappear.
It hollows out something inside me, scrapes me raw of every moment of triumph my little attempt at dominance conjured. The woman I thought I figured out so easily washes away those assumptions in under a minute. Frozen, I can only watch as she climbs out of the limo, her face serene and determined. The only sign that something had occurred between us at all is the bulge and weight of her panties in my pocket.
She may belong to me, in body and in name, but she’ll never truly bemine.
CHAPTER 10
CATRIONA
Who knew my wife could be such a good little slut?
If only healsoknew how I’m going to make him regret ever saying that to me, he would have kept his fucking mouth shut.
As he guides me into the estate with one hand at the small of my back, I methodically plan all the ways I can make him miserable. Because if I think about what just happened between us… I shove the thoughts away, deep inside my mental box of shit I can’t think about, and lock it down tight, along with everything else that I can’t think about.
I don’t have the luxury of losing it. If I’m going to make it out of this with my sanity intact, I have to focus on my end goal: survival. No matter the consequences I receive from my father, the cold shoulder from my sister, or the retaliation from O’Connor.
No matter what it costs.
Even if it costs me my sanity.
My freedom.
My sense of self.
My phone buzzes in my hand with a text from Yasmine. I fish out my phone, wincing at the missed calls from Elizabeth, and I’m instantly a thousand pounds lighter at the sight of Yasmine’s name on my screen.
Yasmine
Your sister is furious. I left her at your dad’s, who is also furious, FYI. If Reggie weren’t with me, I’m sure he would have given me the third degree. Or worse. How did it go?
Me
As good as we can hope for. It’s done. We’re going back to his place.
Yasmine
You mean your old house? Really? You sure you’re ready for that
Suddenly, the tight laces of the wedding dress feel a whole lot tighter around my ribs, and it’s an effort to draw air into my lungs. It had never occurred to me that we’d go back to the beautiful home that had once belonged to my mother. The home where I discovered her broken body.
He wouldn’t… he couldn’t think I’d…
Me
I don’t know
Yasmine
I’m tracking your location. Hate to break it to you, but it’s your old street. Would now be a terrible time for me to say I told you so? Going to that party was a horrible idea
Me
You’re telling me
A breath rattles out of my chest as we pull up to the gate of the last place I ever wanted to see again. I follow O’Connor through the garage and courtyard to the mudroom, fighting my instincts to flee the whole way. A short hallway later, we’re in the kitchen. The earlier relief at Yasmine’s text messages has completely evaporated. Being back in this house is like being enveloped in shadows. Thick, oily shadows that fill my throat and choke out all the oxygen. The last time I’d been here… I don’t even want to think about it.
