Page 19 of Die For Me

I screamed out with pleasure, my mind blank, my body vibrating with the intense pulsing of my pussy, and my ass filled to the brim with his cock.

“Good girl,” Michael said into my ear and then pulled out and quickly rolled me onto my back.

I figured he was going to recreate mine and Jack’s cumshot, but he had more planned. He pulled something else out of the drawer and I realized it was my magic wand, the one he had gotten me at our condo. There was a sting in my chest as our old memories flooded back to me. He was so perfect. Or was that something I just made up in my head because I was so in love with him? Clearly, he was far from fucking perfect.

“I’m going to make you weep from how much you fucking come for me, baby,” Michael declared as he turned on the wand.

He wasn’t lying; I easily came four times in less than two minutes. Tears streamed down my face from how fierce my orgasms were. When I recovered from my last orgasm, I looked up and Michael was jerking off to me.

“Now who’s the better fuck?” he said before he released his cum all over me, his warm liquid shooting all over my bare body.

I couldn’t even think or move. I was depleted of all energy, mentally and physically. My eyes were closed in a state of pure bliss, so much so that I jumped when Michael quickly removed the tape from my mouth and threw it on the ground.

He left me there without cleaning me up or untying me. I let my eyes flutter shut again and realized that as much as I wanted to hate my captor, I didn’t. How could I ever hate Michael? This was happening all over again and as terrified as I should have been, I wasn’t. As much as Michael wanted to hurt me, to punish me, he had no idea that I was my own worst enemy…and I would hurt myself far worse than anyone else ever could.

Emily

I had to tell someone about what I saw. It couldn’t be Adam—how was I supposed to explain that I was stalking my cousin? It had to be either Billie or Michael, and well…Billie didn’t want to talk about Hana anymore. The last time I had mentioned her to Billie through text, telling her that everything seemed normal at our Easter brunch, she responded back:Please give it up, Emily. The Hana we thought we knew is gone. She’s Jack’s problem to deal with now.

Her words stung my chest—how could she so easily dismiss Hana? I knew she was hurt and confused about what happened, and so was I. But Hana was my fuckingcousin, my blood. And as angry as I was about everything happening, I couldn’t just give up. Whether it be getting back into her life or really uncovering what was going on, I was going to keep pushing.

And then there was Michael. Fuck, my heart ached for him. Ever since Hana left him in New Jersey, he had been an absolute mess. I knew he quit his job and sold the condo in Chelsea. He was now living in Brooklyn, where exactly I wasn’t sure; he didn’t offer much information—he only wanted to know about Hana. He texted me every day asking if I’d heard from her. I told him everything I knew. He finally had an online presence, at least on Instagram, to stalk Hana and bask in his own self-loathing. Any time she posted something, which wasn’t often, he would call me and complain about how he didn’t understandwhy she hadn’t reached out to him. I told him it was likely that she didn’t have unrestricted access to her phone—that was something she had mentioned when she told us about the horror story of hers and Jack’s before. I struggled with telling him that I finally knew where she lived. Would he do something rash? He was an ally and I needed his help, so I told him anyway.

And the fucking sex tape. It was starting to concern me how angry he was—not just at Jack, but at Hana too. Michael forwarded me the video, but I refused to watch it. I knew it must have totally broken him. It would have broken me too; having to watch someone you were in love with, someone who was abruptly taken from you, have sex with someone else? That didn’t seem like Michael’s kink and that definitely wasn’t mine. I could barely understand what he was saying as he yelled into the phone about how he was going to fucking kill both of them. I hoped it was just his anger speaking. I knew the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Hana. He wanted to hurt Jack, and I really fucking wanted him to hurt Jack too. That’s why I decided to tell him.

The day after he received the video, I called Michael to tell him about seeing Hana walk into the OB-GYN office. It was too much for me to keep to myself; I needed to vent to someone who understood the pain of losing Hana. It didn’t even occur to me that it would push him over the edge.

“She’s fucking pregnant?” he snapped after a long silence.

“I don’t know,” I responded quietly. “Maybe. The place seems like it’s mostly for obstetrics. Or maybe she just needed birth control or literally anything else.”

I was trying to stay calm for the both of us. If Hana was pregnant and keeping it, she would be tied to Jack forever. We both knew this.

“What if it’s mine?” Michael finally responded.

Wait. What? Oh shit.I totally didn’t even realize it could be Michael’s. Of course they had sex the night they were back together. Oh fuck, this just made things so much worse…

“I—I don’t know,” I hesitantly replied. “Maybe…maybe we can figure this out. I can just call Hana and ask her what’s going on. Or I can just magically bump into her the next time she’s out. I don’t know, we’ll figure this out.”

I was rambling. The possibilities of what Michael would do terrified me. If he wasn’t desperate before, he would definitely be desperate now.

There was another long silence. “Michael?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Then he hung up.

* * *

I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next night. Staying up all night was easy—I was a bartender. I was being “good” by taking my meds and not drinking; I didn’t want another episode like my last to happen. I promised Adam I would do everything I could to prevent that. But Michael had me so worried that I literally couldn’t sleep. How was he going totake careof it? I texted him afterward asking him to explain, but he didn’t respond. I called the next day and got no answer. And then I got a text from him three days later at 6 p.m. that read:Hana is back with me.

My stomach dropped.Oh, thank fuck.Is she okay? How did this happen? I need answers, please have her call me!

I started to get angry when I didn’t get a response. It was a slow night at the bar, so I checked my phone constantly. I thought about calling Jack to see if I could get anything from him, but it turned out I didn’t have to. He stormed into the bar like he owned the place. His eyes darted around then landed onme. Before I knew what he was capable of, I never found his presence intimidating—but now he looked fucking terrifying.

“Emily!” he shouted over the music as he stomped over to me. “Where is she?” He planted his hands atop the bar. “Where’s Hana?”

I played dumb. “I don’t know. Don’t you keep a leash on her?”

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