Page 45 of Die For Me

His eyes were emotionless as he scanned the living room, stopping at a framed picture of me and Jack from the day we got married. He let go of my hand and walked up to grab it, examining it like it were a piece of art.

“Why would you want to display this when you were coerced into marrying him?” he asked me sullenly.

I quickly looked to see if Jack was around; he had gone into our room, I assume to look for suitcases.

“It was coercion at first, Michael. But it turned into something real,” I answered, knowing how crazy that sounded.

Michael snorted and set down the picture.

“Does he still have the gun?” he asked me quietly as he looked across my shoulder, as if to watch for Jack.

I knew he did. It was in the safe, locked away from me. I nodded as I looked down to the floor.

“Don’t let him bring that. He could shoot me in my sleep,” he hissed with indignation.

I feared that would be true. “Wait here,” I instructed before walking down the hallway and into our bedroom. I found Jack with the safe open, two suitcases on the bed with his clothes thrown in and his laptop beside it. I walked closer to the safe to see if anything was still in there. There wasn’t.

“Jack,” I started gently. “Please don’t bring the gun.”

He stopped at his dresser and eyed me. “I’m bringing it for protection, Hana. I won’t use it unprompted.”

I sighed heavily. “Jack,” I started to argue.

Jack grabbed my arm and turned me toward him; my heart dropped as he glared at me, anger clear in his eyes.

“Hana, you’re lucky we’re doing this at all. I’m not going there unless I feel we’re safe,” he hissed.

Tears started welling in my eyes. “If you take it, you have to tell me where you keep it,” I argued, courage taking ahold of me. “And you better fucking rememberwhyyou’re doing this.”

Jack’s eyes went from angry to confused and then bolted right back to angry again. He took my face with his hand then quickly grazed it down to my throat.

“Don’t abuse your power, love. You better fucking remember who you’re talking to.” He squeezed hard before he let me go, and I gasped for air.

It took everything inside me not to fight back. He had no idea how much I had changed in the last week. I was not his property anymore; in fact, if anything, he was mine.

I stormed back into the living room where Michael sat on the couch with his phone in his hand. He eyed me as I walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of wine to calm down.

“Hana.” Michael approached me from behind.

My hands shook as I poured my Merlot, adrenaline still coursing through me. Michael put his hands to my shoulders, seemingly trying to soothe me.

“Hana, you know this isn’t a good idea. Drinking can—”

“Please, stop. I drink all the time.” I shook my head as I set down the bottle and put the glass to my lips.

He sighed behind me. “Allthe time, Hana?”

I rolled my eyes before I turned around to face him. “Notallthe time. Sometimes. What does it matter anyway? Clearly I’ve been doing something right.” I shrugged, ready for an argument.

The concern was clear on Michael’s face. My heart dropped at the way he was looking at me, the way he used to—the way he did when all he wanted was to protect me.

“Hana,” he whispered, putting his hand to my cheek. “I love you. I’m going to take care of you now. I’m not going to let Jack continue to be a bad influence on you.”

Jackwasa bad influence on me. He poured me glasses of wine at night as we talked until the sun came up. He didn’t care if I took my meds or went to therapy. He didn’t notice when I wouldn’t eat all day while reading a whole book in one sitting. He did, however, let me make all those decisions myself, whether they were unhealthy or not.

Michael watched me closely. He took my hand and kissed the top of my knuckles softly, pulling me closer to him.

“Let him pack. Come back to my place with me.”

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