Page 73 of Don't Leave Me

Prat? Is that some British insult? Either way, this is getting bad.

Jack laughed and rolled his eyes, clearly not intimidated.

“She’s yours, huh mate? Is that why she was fucking me just the night before you came running after her?” Jack rebutted, and I swear I was about to have a heart attack.

“Stop!” I cut in, using all of my anger in my tone, hoping they would listen.

But they didn’t listen. Michael glared at Jack and narrowed his eyes.

“What did you just say?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “I said that your slag was begging me to fuck her just hours before you showed up,” he said sharply.

My mouth flew open, and before I knew it, Michael was swinging his fist in the air and punching Jack right in the eye. Jack nearly collapsed on the floor but held himself up with the wall, clutching his face. I was frozen with terror.

“Have security toss this fucker out of here,” Michael said to Maude, then he walked right past me and back into the office without even looking me in the eye.

I looked to Maude then back at Jack, who was now standing upright but still holding onto his face. I was absolutely livid – why the fuck would he say all of that about me if he really cared about me? What was the point of him even coming here when he could so easily bad mouth me, calling me a “slag” which I was sure was equivalent to slut.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” I spit out, then turned around and nearly sprinted back into the office.

I was nearly hyperventilating as I walked down the hall, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. I didn’t even bother to knock; I barged into Michael’s office and shut the door behind me, finding him pacing the room and looking up at me with a glare.

“Is that true, Hana?” he growled, making me jump at how vicious he sounded.

I shook my head instinctively but there were tears in my eyes, giving away any credibility I had.

“Tell me the truth, Hana,” he stopped pacing to walk towards me, eyeing me in his intimidating and intense way.

I was frozen again.I’m going to fuck this all up. I can’t lose him, not again.

“It didn’t mean anything, Michael. I was confused; I thought you didn’t want me!” I cried out, tears now streaming down my face.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Hana,” he sighed bitterly, turning away, probably to disguise his revulsion towards me.

“I’m sorry, Michael! I’m so sorry. I’ll never speak to him again, I swear. I love you. I’m so sorry,” I went on, my knees feeling weak again, feeling like I was about to collapse.

He faced me again, looking angry and also in deep thought, like he was deciding what to do with me, if anything at all.

“Please, I’m so sorry,” I went on, scared shitless at his silence.

“Quiet, Hana,” he snapped, his eyes intense.

I gulped and shut my mouth, trying to calm my breathing.

“You lied to me, Hana. You lied straight to my fucking face,” he said, wrinkling his nose at me with disgust.

I didn’t know whether to defend myself or not; it was probably futile either way. I continued to shake my head, showing him I was sorry, feeling tears stream down my face and the lump still very apparent in my throat.

He was pacing back and forth now. “You’re mine now, Hana. Do you understand that?” he interrogated.

“Yes,” I nodded hopefully.

He turned his head sharply to me, his eyes widened a little.

“You’re going to call me sir from now on, all the time, until I tell you otherwise,” he ordered loudly.

“Yes, sir,” I nodded instinctively.