Page 71 of Ruthless Intent

I glance around. Trees line both sides of the drive. There isn’t a house on the opposite side of the road. No one will see anything.

What will he do if I run? If I turn around and just flee?

He’ll catch you and drag you inside.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat.

You’ve just married a man who has been incarcerated for fourteen years for murder, and you’re surprised by the fact he’s brought you here … to the scene of the crime?

“I hate you.”

“So you keep telling me.” He straightens. “Time to go inside. Make your choice, Ashley. Walk or be carried?”

Force myself to walk into a house I haven’t been near since my brother died, or give him the satisfaction of humiliating me further?

I stiffen my spine, throw back my head, and suck in a deep breath.

I can do this.

My feet don’t move.

I have to do this.

I take a step forward, then another, then another. Each step brings me closer to the house, and my heart is trying to burst out of my chest by the time I reach the steps leading to the front door.

My vision is swimming in and out. I’m cold, but there’s sweat beading on my forehead. My hands are clammy. I scrub them down my thighs.

This house is where all my nightmares play out.

I lick my lips.

I can do this!

Yes you can. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

“I’m impressed.” That cool voice sounds from behind me. “I was sure you’d run.” He leans past me and unlocks the door. “Go on. Go inside.”

It swings open on silent hinges, and I eye the dark hallway beyond.

Before I can move, Zain’s hand touches my back, and he gives me a less-than-gentle push forward. I stumble over the threshold, and then I’m inside.

I sway.

I was wrong. I can’t do this. I can’t.

The door closing behind me sounds like a prison cell shutting.

I spin, my intention to leave, and hands close over my shoulders.

“Going somewhere?”

“I can’t. Please. I have to leave. I can’t be here. I can’t.”

I try to wrench free, to push past him, my eyes focused on the door. On the freedom beyond it.

And then the world spins. I’m upended, and thrown over his shoulder. His back fills my vision and I erupt into movement.

My hands slam against his back. I kick my legs. I scream. I shout. I fight to escape.

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