Page 112 of Psycho

I bit my lip, not saying anything. When he said it like that, it sounded ridiculous.

“You’re mine.”

I shook my head.

He wrapped his other hand around my neck, though he didn’t squeeze. Unlike when Dad did this, I didn’t feel dread. I didn’t fear for my life.

I looked up and met his gaze.

“Yes, you are,” he said, squeezing a little.

“No. I’m not yours. I’m not anybody’s.”

“You’re mine. And you’re gonna stay mine until the last dying breath I take… and even then. You’re fucking mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

I shivered from the dark note of possession in his voice.

He really did view me as that.

Athinghe possessed.

I could not be his. I couldn’t belong to anybody, but there was just something about the thought of belonging to this psycho that drove my actions.

I moved without thinking.

I pulled my hand back and slapped him across his face.

We both stilled after the loud sound rang out.

I looked at him with wide eyes, and he looked back at me, his jaw clenching.

Oh, fuck.

I’d done it now. I pissed off the psycho.

My breath pushed out in a hard exhale before I felt my chest caving as I came to the horrible realization that I couldn’t get in enough air.

I was gasping for breath, trying to breathe.

Fuck.

My vision tunneled, and distantly, I heard Micah curse, then I found myself sitting on the floor—no, sitting on his lap. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and I buried my face in his chest.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Breathe for me. Good girl. That’s it.”

I trembled against him.

What was he doing to me?

It wasn’t supposed to be like this with him.

He was supposed to be hurting me right now for that slap.

I had heard things about him.

And if the rumors were even half true, then he had killed men for less.

I shuddered and snuggled in closer, and he—unaware of my thoughts—tightened his arms around me as if he couldn’t bring me in close enough to him.

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