by Dori Lavelle
I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Now that I know just how dangerous he is, my mind is urging me to do something, to protect myself from the monster that was once my husband. But I don’t know how to get away from him.
My entire body locks with fear when I notice the shiny object in his hand. It’s one of the kitchen knives we received as a wedding present.
Hunter is determined to get me back, and if I refuse, he will kill me.
“Are you...do you want to kill me?” I force the words through my tight throat.
“Maybe.” He turns the blade over and I watch it glint in the moonlight. “Let’s start this party with you telling me what you were doing with that asshole from your office.”
“It’s none of your business,” I say without looking at him or the knife in his hand. I try to pretend it’s not there, that I’m not in danger. But it’s hard to ignore it. If he didn’t have the knife, I’d be out of this car, screaming my lungs off. I can’t even grab my handbag to get my phone and call the cops because it’s at his feet, where he put it when he slipped into the passenger seat.
“It’s my business. You are my fucking wife.” He sucks in air through his teeth. “Did you fuck him?” His tone is as steely as the knife in his hand. “Did you suck his dick in the restaurant bathroom?”
I swallow hard. “There’s nothing going on between Jacob and I.” I glance back at him. I can’t stop the tears flooding my eyes. “Please, Hunter. Leave me alone. It’s over. You have to accept it.”
“When will you finally get it?” he shouts. “You and I will never be over. We made vows in front of God. And you’re Catholic. You shouldn’t even think about divorce. I spoke to your mother and she thinks you’re making a mistake.”
The sword of betrayal cuts me to the core. How could my mother talk to him behind my back? How dare she speak to him while she avoids her own daughter’s calls?
My heated gaze meets his. “You’re a professional liar. I don’t believe a word you say.”
He drops his phone in my lap. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you call her? She told me she wants us to get back together. She also said if you don’t do the right thing, she’ll try to talk sense into you.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t give a damn what my mother says. It’s done, Hunter. There’s no going back. And the fact that you’re here threatening me with a knife proves that I’m making the right decision by divorcing you.”
I’m about to tell him that the reason I had dinner with Jacob was to talk about the divorce, but as I part my lips again to speak, he shoots out his hand, grabbing me by the throat.
“Don’t you ever say you’re divorcing me,” he growls into my ear as my throat closes.
I grab at his hand, trying to loosen his fingers before they cut off my air supply, but I’m too weak for him.
“You need to be taught a lesson.” While I gasp for air, he puts the knife behind his back and uses the free hand to unzip his pants.
He finally releases my throat. While I grapple for air, my hands around my neck, he grabs me again, this time at the back of my neck, pulling me toward his lap. His dick is now free and aroused.
“Suck it. It’s your duty as a wife.” He reaches behind him again to get the knife. Now the tip of the blade is pressing into the side of my neck.
I only have two choices: to suck his dick or die. To give myself time to think about how to save myself, I give him what he wants.
I wrap my mouth around him, wishing I could sink my teeth into his cock. But that could lead to my death.
I gag from him pushing himself too deep into my throat. While I groan with discomfort, he groans with pleasure.
His hand is in my hair now, his fingers gripping it so tight I feel the strands detaching from my scalp. My tears of pain and humiliation drip into his crotch.
The only good thing is that the blade is no longer against my neck.
He lifts me upward to the point where his dick almost leaves my mouth, then he slams me down again. My body jerks as I gag again, but I fight back the bile that threatens to flood my throat. I’m not ready for the consequences that might result from me throwing up in his lap.
“Stop,” I murmur, but my mouth is too full for the word to make sense. I’m not even sure whether I spoke it or thought it.
He wanted to break me all along, and I hate to admit that he finally has. The pain of carrying a broken heart is so much worse than any physical pain.
I pray for him to come soon so this torture can end. Finally, he does, his semen coating my throat. I wince from the pain of him pulling at my hair even more as he jerks from his orgasm. Then he pulls my head upward and his cock pops out of my mouth.
Without meeting his eyes, I wipe his semen from my mouth with the back of my hand. My eyes are hot with tears as, through the window, I watch a car drive by, the driver unaware that I need help.
Any second now, Hunter could decide to kill me because there’s no way I’ll return to him. But I’m not ready to die, not yet. I’m also not ready for him to get away with what he did to me.
“That was excellent,” he whispers. “You were always good with your mouth.” He chuckles and lays a hand on my back.
I shake him off. “Get out of my damn car.”
“You’re my fucking wife, Bree. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.” He doesn’t try to touch me again, but I can see the glint of the knife from the corner of my eye. That’s when I remember that I’m not as helpless as I think. I turn slowly to look at him, holding his gaze so he doesn’t see what I’m doing.
“Are you sure about that!” I move my hand slowly from my lap to the pocket in the door.
“Don’t fuck with me, Bree.” He scratches the top of his head with his free hand. “I need you to drive us home. Tomorrow, you’ll quit your job and become the kind of wife you were destined to be.”
“Fuck off.” I glare at him. “You’re sick. There’s no way I’ll give up my job for someone like you. You disgust me.”
While he reels at my words, I grab one of my pepper sprays and aim for his eyes. I make sure to spray as much of the liquid as I can.
“Fuck. Shit.” His hand goes to his eyes.
Even though some of the pepper spray has gone into my own eyes, he’s worse off than me. I need to act before he recovers.
While he writhes with pain, I grab my bag and the car keys and press the button to open the doors.
“Go to hell,” I shout as I stumble out of the car and run as fast as I can into the darkness.
When I’m a distance away from the car, I pull out my phone and call Karen. I hope she’s home. It’s only a matter of time before Hunter starts chasing after me, if he isn’t already.
She answers on the fourth ring. “Please, Karen, I need your help. He wants to...he’s after me.”
“Where are you, Bree? Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you.”
“I’m on the road to your place...on foot.”
“I’m home right now. I’m on my way.”
Even though I know Karen will reach me in a matter of minutes, I keep running. My muscles are sore and my lungs are on fire, but I don’t stop. I don’t look behind me. I’m afraid that if I see him running after me, fear will paralyze me again.
Not long after I escape from Hunter, Karen comes to my rescue, the lights of her car blinding me. I get into the car before it comes to a complete stop.
“Oh my God,” she says, looking at me in horror. “What did the bastard do to you!” I must look a sight with tears, snot, and Hunter’s sperm drying on my face. I’m sure she also sees the pain in my eyes and Hunter’s handprint on my neck.
Once I explain everything as quickly as I can without breaking down, she wipes away the tears in her own eyes.
“What do you want us to do?” she asks in a low voice.
“I want to go to the cops.”
She nods and drives me straight there. When we pass my car at
the side of the road, we don’t see Hunter, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still there.
We’re at the station for an hour when I finally speak to someone who decides to take action by allowing me to file a restraining order against Hunter. He’s never coming near me again.
When we get to Karen’s place, I crash onto the sofa and she lowers herself next to me. We sit in silence for a long time, both too shaken and exhausted to speak.
A few minutes after we arrive, the officer we spoke to at the station drops off my car and informs me that Hunter was not inside or anywhere near it. But they did find the knife he threatened me with.
“Call us if he comes near you again.”
“Thank you,” I say and wish him a good night.
“What can I do for you, honey?” Karen asks as we walk back into the house. “Anything.”
“I don’t know. I just...I think I want to go away for a while.”
“You want to go away?”
“Yes.” I lean my head back. “Even with the restraining order, I don’t feel safe here anymore.”
“I fully understand that.” Karen pauses. “I actually think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you go to my villa in Monte Carlo? You can spend a few days alone there, and I’ll come down on weekends to check on you. I’ll also hire a guard to watch the place.”
“I’d love that. Thanks.”
I could escape to my own beach house in Miami, but Hunter knows everything I own. He might follow me there.
I have to be careful this time. He cannot know that I’m leaving town. I’m sure he’s still out there in the shadows. I don’t think he’s the kind of person who will respect a restraining order.
“I want to leave tonight.” I push myself to my feet. “Is that okay with you?”
“Of course it is. I’ll help you pack.”
Inside the bedroom, we close the blinds so no one outside will see what I’m up to. Before I start packing, I book my flight and call Mason. He’s my boss and I can’t disappear without letting him know. He might not be okay with my decision, but I’ll have to make him understand. I have to tell him the truth.
“Mason, I’m sorry to call so late.” I lower a skirt into the suitcase. “Something happened and I need to go away for a few days.”
“Are you okay? What happened?” He sounds truly concerned.
“My husband and I separated and he’s not taking it well.” I bite down on my lip. “He attacked me. I filed a restraining order against him, but I’m not sure he’ll respect it.”
“Jesus.” Mason inhales sharply. “I’m sorry to hear that. Please do what you need to do to feel safe. You hardly take time off anyway.”
“Thanks, Mason. I won’t stay away too long.” I watch as Karen leaves the room and closes the door softly.
“Is there anything I can do to help you in any way?” Mason asks. “Anything at all?”
“No, there’s really nothing anyone can do. But thank you.”
“That’s all right. Don’t worry about work. We value you as a new partner in the firm. Take the time you need to sort out your marital problems and recover. Your job will be waiting for you.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
As soon as I end the call, Karen walks back into the room.
“I called my housekeeper to let her know that you’re coming. She’ll have the house ready for you.”
“You’re an amazing friend.” I pull her into a hug. “I guess I should finish packing then.”
I’m tempted to call Jacob, to let him know what’s going on, but I can’t. If he finds out that Hunter hurt me, he will want to come and check up on me. I have a feeling he would do something to try to protect me. I don’t want to put him in any kind of danger. I’ll just call him from Monte Carlo. We need to further discuss the divorce case anyway.
This is my war to fight.
Hopefully by the time I return, Hunter will have already received the divorce papers and he will have no choice but to let me go. He’ll definitely be shocked that he didn’t break me completely.
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter
Where there’s a mistake, there are consequences. Bree made a huge one.
I know what she’s doing. I know where she’s going, but she can’t outrun me. The only thing she’s doing is running back into my arms.
The monster I had been trying to suppress out of love for her has now come out to play. There’s no going back, for me or for her.
By the time I had recovered a little from the pepper spray, Bree had disappeared into the darkness. Chasing after her out there in the open would have been a stupid thing to do. Action without a plan can backfire. After putting a tracker on her car, I hitchhiked a ride back to the city center, unsure what to do next.
It was only when I heard her speak of leaving town that an idea came to me. Thanks to the tiny listening device I put inside her handbag while she was sucking my dick, I heard every word she said about me to her bitch friend and the cops. She has crossed a line. Now she’s about to discover who I become when someone betrays me.
My eyes are still swollen from the damn spray, but the pain is nothing I can’t handle.
I’m right behind her now, inside my rented car. Karen had offered to drive her to the airport, but she wanted to drive herself since the airport is only fifteen minutes away. Now she will live to regret that choice.
Did she really think a stupid restraining order would keep me from what’s mine? She belongs to me and there’s nothing she or anyone can do to keep me away. Our future is waiting. And since the cops have not spoken to me yet, the restraining order is null and void.
Before I put my plan into motion, I wait until the only other car on the quiet road, aside from ours, overtakes Bree and disappears into the distance.
When we’re the only people on the road, I speed up to near the rear of her car, not too close, but close enough for her to get the message.
She knows I’m behind her, that I’ve come for her, and this time it’s finders keepers.
“It’s time to come home, baby,” I whisper with a smile that triggers a rush of warmth in my chest. “Stop the car and we will talk.”
As if she can hear me, she glances into the rearview mirror then looks away again sharply, glancing in the direction of the passenger seat.
What if she wants to call the cops on me?
I can’t let her do that. To stop her, I slam into her hard enough to send her car lurching forward. She loses control of the car for only a few seconds, then she recovers way too fast.
I glance quickly at the small bag on the passenger seat. The chloroform is waiting to do its job.
When I look back at her, I notice she’s leaning forward slightly. Her phone must have fallen from her hand and she is searching for it. Before she has a chance to find it, I hit her again, hoping she would stop the damn car this time.
I think I hear her scream, but it could be my mind messing with me. She hates driving with windows open.
Before she can recover again or another car shows up on the road, I slam into her again. This time, she swerves right off the road and is unable to stop the car from heading straight for one of the trees on the side of the road.
The front of her car meets the tree trunk head on.
Fuck. That wasn’t part of my plans. I only wanted to frighten her into stopping the car so I can get to her.
As I throw my door open and get out of my own car, I can barely breathe. I jump straight into action.
I find her slumped against her steering wheel. Is she dead? No. This isn’t supposed to happen.
I’m only able to exhale when I manage—after a few tries—to yank her car door open and release her seatbelt.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” I lower her to the ground and feel for a pulse. It’s there, but it’s faint.
I have no choice but to change my plans. I can’t let her die, not yet. I still have so many plans for us. I need to fuck her for the last
time.
I perform CPR on her, tasting the blood on her lips, but nothing happens. She’s not coming back to me.
What do I do? I can’t call 911. If she wakes up, she will tell them what happened.
Maybe this is not such a bad thing. I could make it work for me somehow. I could take her home and care for her myself.
In another life, I used to be a self-taught doctor. Before moving to Houston, I worked for two years in a private clinic and no one even suspected I was a fake. I was good at my stuff and my fake degrees were good enough to fool anyone. I’ve learned over the years that the world is at my fingertips and there’s nothing I can’t be.
Maybe I can save Bree. When she wakes up, she will be all mine.
I’m about to lift her into my arms when I hear a car. My head jerks up in time for me to see it slowing down.
Shit. This is bad, really bad.
I put my arms around her and pick her up, but it’s too late. The other driver has come out of the car and is running toward us. There’s another person in the car, holding a phone to their ear.
Taking Bree away when there are witnesses would be a bad idea.
“Sir, is everything all right? Is she hurt?” The small man is panting as he reaches us.
“She’s my wife. She has a concussion,” I say. “I’m driving her to the hospital. It’s not far from here.” I turn to walk away.
“That’s not a good idea,” the man says. “My brother is a doctor. He always says the best thing to do in a situation like this is to call 911. My wife is already calling.”
“Shit.” I turn around slowly, my eyes burning from remnants of pepper spray and fury.
“Sorry, what did you say?” the man asks in a tone that makes me want to punch him in the face.
“Thank you.” Swallowing down my anger, I put Bree back down, then run to my car. I cannot risk for the cops to find me near her, not after everything she told them about me.
“Hey, where are you going?” the man calls after me.
“I’ll wait at the hospital.” I toss the words over my shoulder seconds before I jump into my car. Once the paramedics arrive, she’ll be in good hands.
