Page 50 of Glorious Sinner

I had to stall him. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything…just, please, don’t hurt him.”

His eyes lit up and I thought I might be sick.

“You leave here with me, and I’ll let him live,” he said. “You’re still my fucking wife. You belong to me.”

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, making me dizzy. I had no choice but to go with him. Tomas would find me; he would. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too late when he did. “I’ll go with you.”

He seemed to relax further. “Get me something to tie him up with,” he said and gave Arthur a shake.

Ryan followed me to the living room and used the ties on the curtains to restrain Arthur. He shut the door and was about to lock the room.

My fear spiked in that moment at the thought of leaving with him. Arthur was out of immediate danger. I had no control over what happened next. I just reacted.

Spinning away, I wrenched my arm from Ryan’s hand and ran. He cursed viciously and I heard him pounding after me. I sprinted down the hall, back out to the foyer, but I wasn’t fast enough. I’d never been fast enough. Ryan collided with my back, knocking me to the ground. I hit the tile hard, knocking the wind from my lungs as he came down on top of me, pressing my front into the floor. The sound of his knife clattering to the ground and sliding away gave me a small amount of hope.

Grabbing my hair, he twisted my head to the side so he could see my face. “You fucking lying whore,” he spat. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

He wanted me to cower, he wanted to see my fear, but I refused to give it to him, not again, never again. If I was going to die, it was going to be fighting. “Did it hurt when Tomas cut off your fingers?”

His eyes grew round and he bared his teeth. “What did you say?”

“I hope he made you scream, you spineless piece of shit,” I said, letting him see the hatred I felt for him.

He roared and brought his face close to mine. I knew what was coming. He was going to bite me. He’d always liked to bite. No goddamn way. I slammed my head back. Pain radiated through my skull, but I didn’t care. The sound of his nose crunching was satisfying as hell, and so was his bellow of pain.

He clutched his nose with one hand and tightened his hold on my hair with the other. Forcing me over onto my back, he got in my face. “You know what comes next, don’t you, bitch?”

I stared into his eyes, ignoring the blood pouring from his nose, dripping on my face and shirt. “There’s nothing you can do to me that can hurt me anymore. I can die happy because I know now what it is to truly love someone. To be loved in return.”

“What?” he whispered.

“I never loved you, Ryan,” I said.

He looked stunned. God, I could actually see hurt under all that rage. “You’re lying.” He got in my face again. “Tell me you’re lying!”

“How could I ever love someone who took pleasure in causing me pain?”

He hissed. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

“You’re nothing,” I said. “I don’t even care about you enough to hate you.” It was the truth, I realized, and it was freeing. It sucked that I’d only come to that conclusion right when I was about to die.

“I said shut your fucking mouth,” he screamed.

I did the thing he hated most: I laughed at him. I laughed in his face, harder when his face turned red with rage.

He grabbed my chin. “Crazy bitch, why the fuck are you laughing?”

I looked into his eyes. “Because Tomas is going to kill you. You’re so stupid you actually think you can get away with this? That you can hurt me or kill me and he’ll just let it go? That you can take me from his home and he won’t care?” That’s when I saw it—fear. It was clear in his eyes and I relished it. “What he did to you last time will be nothing compared to what he’ll do to you after this.”

I could see the panic setting in, the realization that he’d fucked up. His eyes darted around the room, mind working, trying to think of a way out. He looked back down at me, sliding his hands around my throat. “Then I’ll have to make it look like a break-in, won’t I? I’ll kill you and the old guy,” he said, panic clear in his voice. “Take a few things, leave town…”

“What about the cameras?” I said.

He froze. “What?”

“This place is filled with cameras. It’s all been recorded. All of it. Face it, Ryan, you’re dead.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead, sliding down his temples. “Then I’ll use you as leverage,” he said, more to himself. “He can have you back if he lets me go.” He jumped off me, grabbing his knife off the floor as he tugged me to my feet by the arm. “Let’s go.”