“How did you find me?”
I smile. “I have a tracker on all my cars, my love. But you’re going to learn you can’t ever escape me.”
I pull the syringe from my back pocket, and she tries to push past me toward the door. I grab her and gently slam her onto the bed face down.
“Please don’t drug me. I’m sorry, Irvin.”
I kiss her ass before sliding the needle deep into her cheek.
“Don’t you know how scared I was of losing you?” I pause. “I’m not drugging you. I’m putting a tracking device inside of you.”
She screams at the top of her lungs. “NO! PLEASE! IRVIN!”
She rolls over and kicks, slaps, and pushes, fighting me. I grab her wrists, pin her arms to her body, and hold her there. She sobs uncontrollably. I kiss her forehead.
“Now you’ll never leave me.”
She eventually calms, but I don’t miss the look on her face—the shock, the defeat. I don’t care. She’s never leaving me again.
We sit in silence. She stares at me with hate in her eyes. I stroke her cheek, and she slaps my hand away.
“I told you how far I would go to keep you.” I pause. “I manipulated you. Made you obsessed with me, just as much as I am with you. It was all part of my plan. That’s why I ignored you when you gave me head in the library. Why I pulled away. I wanted to see how you’d respond. Tricking you into this marriage was only the beginning. I had to get you obsessed so you’d fall in love with me.”
She smacks me across the face, and it stings. I’m not going to lie, I deserved that one.
“I’ll never love you! I hate you, Irvin!”
It’s cute she thinks I believe she hates me. If she hated me so much, she wouldn’t go to great lengths to run away from me. She’s not running from me; she’s running from her emotions.
“I let you think you were in control. I let you think you had freedom. But you don’t handle freedom well. I tried to be nice. Now we’re doing things my way.”
“Are you going to punish me for drugging you?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. But I made it so you can never leave me again.”
We sit quietly, the only sound her labored breathing, the warm air blowing through the room.
“I told you I would go far to keep you.” I pause. “Remember when we made our vows on our wedding day? I told you that you didn’t know how long I waited for that moment—to put that ring on your finger. I meant it.”
“If you’re asking for forgiveness for trapping me in this god-awful marriage, you’ll never get it.”
I stroke my knuckles across her cheek. “My princess, you should know me well enough to know I don’t care about forgiveness. I’m telling you this so you can see how far my obsession goes when you try to leave me.”
She cries harder, and I stroke her hair.
“I know who you are, Paige Colson.”
Her eyes widen. She freezes. “W-what did you say?”
“I know who you are. You’re Paige Colson.”
Her hands shake like leaves, but she straightens her spine. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“I have a surveillance app on your phone that shows me your messages, phone calls, and all activity. You reached out to Ambrose Kingsley about your foster brother. About a locket. Emerson went to prison and was executed for what he did to your mother and father. I know who you are. You had a romantic relationship with him in high school. You’re from Buckhead, Georgia.”
She cries silently as I talk. “You’re not supposed to know.”
“You hid it this entire time,” I say.
