I rub up my arms and feeling small, I peer around the familiar décor. It hasn’t changed since I was last here. The same furniture sits in the space—a king-sized bed with pale blue coverings, curve legged bedside tables, and a dresser in the same style on the opposite wall. There’s a luxurious love-seat at the end of the bed and a huge walk-in closet in the far corner that was once filled with mine and his clothes. As I wander over and look inside, I see my dresses are still hanging up, left just as they were when I escaped this hell.

He kept it all, like a shrine to what we once were.

Frigid fingers claw at my belly at the thought.

Sick prick.

Sinking onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, I finally let my tears come. This is not how my life is supposed to go. I’m not destined to spend the rest of my life a prisoner. Hollowness fills my gut and I feel numb as I swipe at the tears coursing down my cheeks. Crying won’t solve anything, but I need to get out all my fear, my frustration, my helplessness. I need to cry for the loss of the one man who may have genuinely loved me for me, not because of some sick need to possess me. I cry because my last image of him was seeing him shot. And I cry because I’ll never see him again.

His last memory of me will be a woman who betrayed them, who lied and who brought this trouble to their door. It taints all the good that happened between Nox and me. Sasha won’t remember her best friend, but a snake in the grass. It’s those thoughts that hurt more than anything Isaac can do to me. Nox will never know how sorry I am that I never got the chance to tell him I love him, that he captured my heart. The way he held me, made love to me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I don’t want to forget a single moment of our time together.

I glance around again, swallowing through the thickness in my throat. This is my life now.

I shake my head. No. I’m not that scared little girl anymore. I’m not giving up. If Isaac wants me, he’s going to have a fight on his hands, because I don’t want him. I want my life back. I want to live without having to look over my shoulder, or change my name. I can’t keep running. I’m so tired.

I’d rather die than live a life pretending to be his wife.

I don’t know how much time passes while I sit on the floor of my old bedroom, my heart heavy, my brain completely empty of all thoughts but Nox, but the light coming through the curtains is starting to darken when I hear a key jangling in the lock.

Fear clutches my belly and I scramble off the floor. I have to bite my lip to stop the moan falling from my mouth as pain shoots through me like a red-hot poker, but I don’t want to be caught sitting down, looking scared. Whoever comes through that door, I want to face head on.

Isaac strides into the room, turning and locking the door behind him before he faces me. His expression is soft, which instantly puts me on alert. He’s never soft about anything, especially me.

He moves over to me, and I match his movement step for step as I back pedal to get away from him, but my legs catch on the bed and I sit down heavily on the mattress.

Before I can get up again, he’s in my space, standing between my legs. His fingers move to my hair and he pulls it free of the tie.

“You look better with it down,” he tells me. From anyone else, that would be a compliment. From Isaac, it’s a backhanded barb about how he thinks I look trashy with my hair up.

He dips his head and takes my mouth. It’s not like when Nox kisses me. There are no butterflies, my legs don’t wobble, my heart doesn’t soar. All I feel is trepidation and nauseous. I shove him away as soon as his lips touch mine, then I brace.

Denying Isaac anything is not a good idea.

I peer up at him, my heart thrumming in my chest as he reaches out and snags me by my forearms. His face contorts, the devil behind his perfectly crafted mask coming out to play, and terror claws up my spine.

“You’re mine! My wife. Start acting like it,” he hisses at me.

I shake my head, trying to remove his bruising grip on my arms. “I was yours once. I thought I loved you, but you destroyed everything between us.”

I expect a hit, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he shoves me roughly back and I stumble, sagging against the bed.

“They’ve poisoned you against me.”

I want to laugh at his words, but my anger is too prominent.

“It’s nothing to do with them. It’s you! You think I didn’t know about the other women? You think I enjoyed it every time you thought I stepped out of line? With every punch you hit that love out of me. You took me, hurt me, you fucking destroyed me.” I shake my head. “That isn’t love. It’s cruel obsession.”

His hands drop to his waist. If I didn’t know him, know the ugliness inside him, I would say he’s attractive. His slicked back dark hair, eyes that are a deep brown, and an all year-round tan look good. His jaw is what you would call chiselled, and is covered in a hint of scruff that makes him look like a male model. He’s removed his suit jacket and is wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, exposing his clean forearms. He doesn’t have a hint of ink on him, or he didn’t the last time I saw him naked, unlike Nox, who is a walking work of art.

“Stop being dramatic, baby. Can’t you see that I just wanted what was best for you? That I was just trying to take care of you. You love me. I took nothing from you, and I gave you everything.”

There they are. His sweet as honey lies. They would have worked in the past, but they don’t now. I’m wise to his methods of manipulation. Absence taught me the tricks he used to get what he wanted. Plus, I really don’t care about making him feel better. In the past, I didn’t want to hurt him, I believed everything he said, so I’d back down. It was a weakness he used for his own benefit. It won’t happen again.

“You just saw me as another one of your possessions. A trophy to hang off your arm.”

I shouldn’t anger him, but my rage is so heightened I can’t control it. He used to have a hold on me, keeping me so scared I could hardly think for myself, but living with Sasha, tasting Nox… it’s changed me. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and I’ll die before I let him destroy me again.

He moves so fast I barely register it until I’m wrestled onto the bed, his heavy weight coming down on top of me, his fingers wrapping around my neck in a grip that is so bruising, my vision starts to fade at the edges.

“You’re my wife. Mine.” He pushes my head into the mattress until pain lances through my skull. “Did you like being his whore?”

Nox. He’s talking about Nox.

“I never touched him and he never touched me. I worked at the bar. They gave me a place to stay. That’s all.” But I can’t stop from sticking the knife in deeper. My words are the only weapons I have left. My lips curl into a sneer as I meet his blazing eyes. “I’d rather all those bikers took me than you.”

Rage flares in his eyes and my stomach lurches as he squeezes harder on my neck. I can’t breathe past his hold and panic flutters in my belly as I claw at his hands, trying to unseat them. He doesn’t flinch or move, just keeps squeezing as darkness creeps into my vision before it finally pulls me under.

When I come around, night has stolen in, and the room is dark. I’m alone, still clothed, thankfully, and lying across the middle of the bed. My neck throbs and it feels as if I swallowed razor blades. I sit up slowly, rubbing at the column of my throat, trying to disperse the pain.