Page 154 of Don't Leave Me

I woke up to the bus coming to a stop. My eyes adjusted to the outside light. W e had made it to Albany. Jack stirred as I did and then quickly pulled out his phone – he was checking the time: 2:55 AM.If I escape now, Jack won’t have time to go back to the city and gather everyone up to murder them. No, I can run to the closest payphone or the Greyhound attendant and tell them, anyone, that I need help.But as the lights flashed on in the bus, I looked over at Jack and I couldn’t do it. Not because I didn’t want to, but I felt that I wasn’t strong enough. I felt that no one would really believe me.Oh, you willingly got on a Greyhound bus upstate with your ex-lover and now you’re claiming that he forced you here? Oh, you’ve been with him for two weeks and have had numerous occasions to escape, but never did? Oh, you were on a double date with your cousin and no one even noticed that something was wrong?The list continued on and on in my head.I wish I had just ran with Billie out of that restaurant as fast as we could.I wish I didn’t tell her not to do anything yet. She could wait weeks to tell anyone, and by that time, I could be dead or even deeper in this sick, twisted fairy tale that Jack had created for us.

Jack took my hand as we exited the Greyhound bus and walked quickly to the Holiday Inn across the street. I wasn’t sure if Jack had a plan yet but I didn’t dare ask him any more questions.

“A suite just for the night, please,” Jack said sweetly to the front lobby receptionist. “And please, a room with a safe,” he added.

She nodded and we were in a top-story suite 5 minutes later. As soon as I walked in, I wondered how Jack had planned to keep me “locked in” a hotel room. There was no possible way for him to lock me in that hotel room by myself – and then I figured he probably wouldn’t leave my sight.He’s already on edge; he doesn’t want any more slip ups. I doubt he’ll ever let me go unattended anywhere ever again.

The first thing that Jack did was stuff his backpack into the safe. The code was written down on a tiny piece of paper that he put in his wallet and I didn’t even bother to try to look at it. I limply sat on the bed, my body exhausted but my mind still racing.I wonder why I haven’t become hypomanic or direly depressed without my meds yet. Perhaps my brain is still in trauma mode – all that bipolar stuff can wait till I’m all well again. As if that time would ever come. As if mental illness ever took a break.

Jack didn’t bother with anything sexual that night – it was nearly 3:30 AM and as soon as he undressed and ordered me to as well, he pulled me under the covers and held onto me tightly. I looked out the window and watched car lights come in and out of the parking lot. Eventually I could hear Jack’s breath becoming heavier with deep sleep. I watched the clock on the nightstand go from 4 AM to 4:30, to 5:30 to 6:30 AM. The sun was finally rising and my eyelids had never felt so heavy – but I could not will myself to sleep. And then somehow, in yet another instant, I finally fell asleep.

I awoke immediately when Jack did. He had set his alarm for 10 AM and quickly shut it off, then wrapped his arm around me again. I was suddenly wide awake and wondered, as I did the night before, if the FBI would be barging through the door at any second. I had fantasized that Billie just went ahead and told the police about what was going on and they were tracking us down at this very instant. Of course, Jack had used a pre-paid credit card to hold our room, so I knew that most of that was unlikely. But the fantasy still gave me just a tiny ounce of hope in my new, hopeless reality.

“Are you awake?” Jack whispered into my ear, grazing his fingertips on my bare hips.

I turned my head to him. “Yes,” I gave him a weak smile.

He propped himself up on his elbow and then gently pressed his lips to my shoulder. And I knew in just a second that my hypomania was approaching - just the touch of his lips sent me into a frenzy. It didn’t matter that he had held me with him against my will for the past two weeks and threatened to kill everyone I loved, or that he tied me up when I talked back to him, or that he hit me the night before because of my “bad performance.” None of that mattered because my sexual desire was heightened times a thousand and all I wanted at that very moment was for him to be inside of me.

And Jack could tell.

He quickly flipped me onto my back, straddled me then took both of my hands with one of his and pinned them above my head, holding me down firmly. His eyes were wild and aroused as he looked down at me, already erect and holding onto himself.

“How bad do you want my cock, Hana?” he growled, lust filling his eyes.

“I want it so bad, Jack,” I moaned out, squirming underneath him.

“Tell me!” he shouted – so loud that I jumped.

“I want your cock so fucking much, Jack,” I repeated, almost pleading now.

He looked down at my body and then spread open my legs with his knee – I couldn’t help but lift my hips up to try to reach any part of him.

“You liked to be teased, don’t you, Hana?” he observed, watching me squirm with a smile.

“Yes,” I moaned, watching him stroke himself.

The sight of his thick erection in his strong hand left my pussy throbbing.

“Oh my sweet, sexy Hana. This is what I’ve been waiting for,” he said, his voice deep as he stared at my body beneath him.

I watched as he let go of himself and started to graze his hands on my upper thigh, squeezing my flesh hard before moving his way to my wet spot. He slowly stuck one finger inside of me, just barely, and then lifted his finger to his lips. He tasted it and smiled slowly.

“You are so wet, Hana, just for me,” he moaned quietly, hovering over me again. “And you are all mine now, aren’t you?”

He was still pinning me down and putting his face closer to mine.

“Yes,” I breathed, lifting my hips again. I could barely register what he was saying; all of my instincts just told me to agree with everything he was saying to find as much pleasure as I could in that moment.

“You’re mine, always,” he whispered, now pressing the tip of himself barely into me – I was shaking with arousal and adrenaline.

“Yes, always. Please,” I stared at his luscious, full lips.

“And you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” he went on, now grazing his tip up and down my slit, the anticipation killing me.

“Yes, anything, please,” I breathed out, feeling like I would climax the instant he went inside of me.

“Marry me, Hana Miller,” he demanded.

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