Page 17 of Die For Me

“Michael!” I screeched out, startled as he made his way up the stairs.

I knew I fucked up by not calling him sir when he slapped my ass with a heavy hand. He carried me into a bedroom and threw me down on the bed, quick to grab something from underneath it. I started to lift myself up to get off the bed when Michael popped up with rope in his hand. My heart immediately dropped. This wasn’t just some ploy to get me to come back to him. This was him keeping me here.

“Michael, please. Let’s just talk about this,” I started, standing in front of him.

“Strike two.” Michael shook his head, grabbing my hands as he pushed me back onto the bed.

He quickly and elaborately tied my wrists together. I had to do something; once my legs were bound, that was it. I waited until he reached over for more rope then I jumped up and bolted out the door. I was all too aware of how ironic this was: I was running away from the man that I had been utterly in love with for the last several months. In fact, even longer than that.

“Hana!” Michael yelled, directly behind me as I ran down the stairs.

I missed the last three steps and fell straight down on my ass on the bottom one. I tried to get up before he tugged on my hair. I screamed out, more startled than anything. Michael picked me up over his shoulder again, and I began to kick my legs, fighting for whatever kind of dignity I had left.

“Let me down! Let me go!” I cried out, now banging my fists against his back.

Michael threw me back down on the bed upstairs, face first, and quickly took my legs and started to tie them together. I couldn’t help myself: I began to sob into the bed, my tied wrists on the side of my head feeling raw already.

“You’re going to stay like this until you behave, Hana,” he hissed, turning me over onto my back.

I don’t think I had ever felt so scared before, not even with Jack. I never would have dreamed that I would be feeling this terrified with Michael, the perfect man of my dreams. I knew I broke his heart, but I had transformed this man into a different person.

I had no idea where Michael was or what he would do next. I kept my eyes closed tight as I sobbed on the bed, my tears dripping on the side of my face and trickling into my ears. Myheart stung at the thought of where Jack was and how he was handling this.

“Can you please let Jack know that I’m okay? Please, sir?” I croaked out after several minutes. I didn’t even know if Michael was still in the same room or not.

I blinked open my eyes and the sun was starting to set. Michael stood from an armchair I didn’t even realize was there.

“You mean with the same courtesy you gave me? With a fucking email?” He sat on the bed beside me, his eyes looking ominous in the dark room.

“I told you. I didn’t write that email,” I snapped back; I guess I still had some fight in me.

Michael let out a soft laugh. “I’ll let him know you’re alright. We’ll send him a special video.”

I started to cry again. “Why are you both using my body to make each other jealous?” I snapped. “I’m so fucking sick of this! Let me have my body back! Let me do what I want with it!”

My chest began tightening, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I knew what was happening: I was having a panic attack. Michael could tell; he sat me up on the bed and put my knees up to my chest.

“Come on now, Han. Breathe. Just breathe with me.” He began to exaggerate his deep breaths, and I tried to follow. His voice was so soothing and calm—this was a familiar moment with Michael, and I clung to it.

I nodded as I mimicked his deep breaths until I finally calmed down. Still shaking, I looked into Michael’s eyes and I knew he still cared about me. He was angry at me, but he still loved me.

“Can we please talk like normal people for a second? Please?” I whispered in between hiccuped breaths. “Sir.”

“No.” Michael shook his head at me. “Because we’re not normal people, Hana. You’re a fucking liar who shattered my heart, and I’m the man you turned into a monster.”

I shook my head back at him. “Aren’t you the one who said that you’ve gotten your heart broken before but never went and kidnapped them over it? That I can’t feel responsible for how someone reacts?”

Michael smiled slowly. He gently put his hand up to my cheek then put a strand of hair behind my ear. His face grew somber again.

“That was before I knew what true despair felt like. You did this, Hana. You do this to me.”

He pushed me back down on the bed and began to unzip his pants. I started to cry gently—I knew this was my fault. And the fucked-up thing was that I was still dripping wet. I wanted this.

“Come on, Hana. Don’t make me be the bad guy here. You know you still want to fuck me.”

He lifted my ankles and slid me to the edge of the bed where he knelt down beside it. My ankles were still bound, but that didn’t stop Michael from pulling down my pants and thong. Before I knew it, he quickly stuck a finger inside of me.

Michael chuckled. I knew how wet I was for him.

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