Page 5 of Nitro

“You know what really pisses me off?” Jeff asks.

I shake my head.

“How un-fucking-grateful you are. I make plenty of money. Any woman would be thrilled to be a doctor’s wife. All you had to do was stay home and not get fat. Do some laundry. Clean a few dishes. Cook something halfway edible. You could have hada good, easy life. But no. You decided to be an ungrateful whore instead.” He lights the first page on fire and holds it over the plastic trash can. As flames lick up the side of it, he adds another page to the burning pile.

“It’s going to melt,” I murmur.

“What did you say?”

“The trashcan. It’s plastic. It’s going to melt all over the floor.”

“Fuck!” He kicks the trashcan, sending it flying. “You can’t even do that right.”

He throws the flaming pages at me. I try to move out of the way, but a sudden, stabbing pain in my chest drops me to my knees. The pages land on my back. I’m wearing a flimsy tank top which does nothing to block the heat. I scream, flailing in a desperate attempt to swat the burning pages off my back. Jeff doesn’t do a damn thing to help me. Instead, a cold smile spreads across his lips, almost as if he’s enjoying my suffering.

“Help me!” I manage to rip my tank top over my head, leaving me wearing only a bra and shorts. My feet are bare, but I use them to stomp out the fire.

“Stop whining and find another way to burn that shit.” Jeff’s voice is so devoid of emotion that it sends chills down my spine.

“I need to go to the hospital. I’m really hurt.”

“Not a fucking chance. Do you really think I’m going to letmywife go tomyworkplace and cause a scene? You’re fine. And you know what? You did this to yourself. What are you going to tell them anyway? They’re going to think you’re an idiot for setting your divorce papers on fire in the kitchen. What kind of moron does that?” A calculating look replaces his sneer. “Actually, maybe that’s exactly what we should do.”

“What?” I back away from him.

“I’ll be the hero.”

“What are you talking about?” Sheer terror fills my heart because he’s looking at me like I’m not real. Like I’m not even a person anymore. Like I’m one of the squirrels he likes to shoot with a BB gun off the back porch.

“It would be a real tragedy if I came home to find my wife in the middle of a psychotic break. You already tried to set the kitchen on fire. Your back is burned. You clearly aren’t in your right mind. Maybe you slipped and hit your head and your face and your ribs. Maybe I found you lifeless on the floor. I tried to save you, but you were too far gone.”

I lunge toward the door, but he’s too fast. He tackles me to the ground, knocking the breath from my lungs. I claw at the floor, trying to get away, but it’s impossible. I kick as hard as I can, slamming my heel into his mouth. His teeth cut my flesh. Blood flows from the wound, making the tile slippery. I scramble to get up but slide in the blood. My feet go out from underneath me so quickly that I don’t have time to react. My head slams into a cabinet then bounces off the floor. Darkness drags me down into the pit of hell.

When I come to, people are yelling. Male voices. Someone’s huge hands scoop me up. I’m pressed against a strong, warm chest. The scent of algae and muddy water fills my nose. It smells like the river in springtime. Underneath that, I detect another scent, whiskey, and wild oranges.

“Nitro?” I murmur.

“I’m here, kitten. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“Jeff. He tried—”

“He’s gone. He got away, but Scar’s on his ass. Don’t worry about him. Just stay with me, sweetie. I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”

“Thank you.” I can’t open my eyes. They’re swollen shut. But I don’t have to. I’m in Nitro’s arms. I’m safe. He won’t let anything happen to me.

I must have passed out again because when I open my eyes, Nitro’s gorgeous steel blue eyes are the only thing I see. His full lips curl into a sweet smile that almost makes me forget about the pain I’m in.

“Hey there, kitten. Welcome back.”

“Where am I?” I try to sit, but I’m so tired I can hardly move.

“In my bed, right where I’ve always wanted you.” He flashes a wicked grin before becoming more serious. “Doc’s here. He wants to check you out to make sure you don’t need to go to the hospital. Is it okay if he comes in?”

“Sure.”

While I wait for Nitro to get Doc, I look around Nitro’s bedroom. In addition to the king-sized bed I’m lying on, he’s got a plain wooden dresser. The drawers hang open, spewing clothes all over the place. The room’s a total disaster, with shirts and jeans strewn about. I think there’s at least one chair amongst the chaos, but it’s hard to tell. A pile of books is stacked haphazardly in one corner, while bags of God-knows-what sits in the other.

A single, bright red bra sits on top of a heap of clothes next to the bed. I glare at it. Even though I know he’s not mine, the thought of him with another woman makes me want to break things. I snatch up the bra and throw it into one of the bags. I can’t see it anymore, which is good; not that it really matters, but it makes me feel better.

---