Page 20 of Tempting Fate

My demons?

I want to tell him that he is my only demon.

But I remain silent.

I can’t upset him.

I need to lull him into complacency before I escape.

One chance, that’s all I have.

If I make my move too soon, he’ll kill me.

After he toys with me.

Beats me.

Breaks my bones.

Takes his fill of my body.

Destroys me from the inside out once again.

My anger coils, hot and ready to spring in my stomach, as I take stock of the fact that biding my time is my only way through this nightmare.

It never should’ve come to this…

Fuck my father and his calls for restraint.

Fuck the repercussions from the Trinity.

Fuck the Maddison clan and their threats.

I should’ve let Zeke kill him.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” The change in Alex’s voice—a monotone, robotic quality that I’ve heard only once before rips me out of my regrets. I shake from head to toe, a trauma-response, a self-preservation tactic, as my flight, fight, and freeze kicks in. “He’s the problem. Always has been. I know you ran to him the second I was gone… but you’re mine, not?—”

“Don’t blame Zeke for?—”

I’m aware I’ve made a big mistake the second my fiancé’s name falls from my lips.

Alex’s expression morphs from arrogant certainty to infuriated in a split second. I immediately brace for the upcoming explosion. He doesn’t leave me hanging, standing with calculated abruptness, so I topple backward off his lap and onto the carpeted floor.

As soon as I’m at a disadvantage, Alex unleashes his anger.

He slaps me across the face twice, one strike with his palm, the next a backhand.

When I cower, waiting for another strike, he changes tactic to pull me to my feet by the front of my shirt. I’m barely upright when he grabs my hand and tugs me behind him. I see that we’re heading for the bedroom where Hugh cornered me and decide that I need to distract him. Being locked in a room will impede my chances of escape. Being in the vicinity of a bed might put ideas in Alex’s head.

I can handle his rage.

It’s his lust that I fear.

“What is wrong with you?” I question, pushing him as hard as I can in the chest with both hands. He staggers backward a couple of steps in surprise at my attack. “Why won’t you just leave me alone? You need to go away. You’re completely crazy. I’m not yours, and I never will be. I hate you.”

I swing at him, hitting his chest and stomach as I unleash my fears and frustrations. Pulling my right arm back, I punch him as hard as I can in the mouth. Blood bursts from his bottom lip while I shake my fist out and swing again.

Five years, seven months, and three days of fear, anger, and hurt finally find the correct outlet.

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