Page 12 of Breaking the Annulment

“Absolutely,” Michalis said, steel in his voice. “I won’t lose her to that bastard again.” He paused, dark eyes flicking to the closed bedroom door. His lips twitched. “Even if it means I have to chain her to my bed.”

His men guffawed, then left as quietly as they’d come.

Michalis stayed outside the bedroom, dread curling down his spine. They thought he was kidding, but he could almost feel her slipping through his fingers.

6

Monday - early

Aurelia couldn’t sleep.She lay in bed, mind churning with ideas, guilt, and the hollow ache of betrayal.David. I need to tell him.Her first time should’ve been with him. He was sweet and kind and safe, everything Michalis wasn’t. Yet she’d let Michalis claim her. The knowledge twisted in her gut. What was wrong with her?!

Around dawn, she dressed quietly. The house was still asleep—or so she hoped. She slipped into the hallway and down the stairs, scanning for guards. A hush blanketed the house, but she knew men patrolled somewhere.

In a side sitting room, she found a landline phone. Heart pounding, she lifted the receiver and punched in David’s number from memory. Each ring ratcheted her anxiety higher.

Finally, he answered. “Hello?”

She cupped a hand around the mouthpiece to stifle the sound. “David, it’s me.”

“Auri?” He sounded half-awake, confusion giving way to alarm. “God, where have you been? I’ve been calling your phone every half hour for two days!”

She bit her lip, tears burning her eyes. “It’s complicated. I—I’m still in Florida, staying at—” A slight creak of the door behind her made her whirl, panic flooding.

A guard appeared; his expression grim. “Hang up. Now.”

Aurelia’s throat constricted. She tried to cover the mouthpiece. “David, I’ll call you later,” she whispered. “I’m safe—just please, don’t—” The guard ripped the phone from her hand, ending the call with a decisive click.

“Enough,” he barked. “The boss said no outside contact.”

She clenched her fists, despair fueling her defiance. “Michalis can’t control me forever.”

The guard’s only response was to seize her arm and guide her back toward the stairs. She considered fighting him, but he was a lot bigger and probably faster, too. She had to be smarter, more cautious, if she ever hoped to escape.

The guard opened her door and stepped back, waiting for her to enter. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Once the lock clicked into place, she threw herself across the bed and beat her fists on the pillows until she was too tired to keep going. She was not very athletic, and it didn’t take long before she was out of breath.Well, at least I’m not screaming, although it would serve them right if I did. They can’t keep me locked in here all day. Can they?

Dusk

Aurelia watchedthe last rays of evening sun turn the edges of the horizon a beautiful orangey-pink from her bedroom window. The sun would be gone soon.

All day, she’d tortured herself with guilt and recriminations. She was a lousy human being and David deserved better; she’d come to that realization during the long, endless hours stuck in her room. She had no excuse for allowing Michalis into the proverbial marriage bed. Absolutely none. She’d been an active participant every step of the way. The only way forward at this point, was to officially end things with David, divorce Michalis, and stay away from all handsome men in the future.Especially the powerful, sexy, smoldering type.

She needed to see David in person, at least one more time, to end things properly. That’s the least she could do. He deserved so much better.

She sniffled. “I’m one of those people now; I’ve joined the ranks of the cheaters,” she lamented, although there was no one to hear her. “This counts, right? Cheating on your boyfriend with your husband?” She wanted to cry, she really did, the irony not lost on her. “Pathetic, that’s what I am.”

Her goal moving forward, she’d decided, was to get out of the house, talk to David, then implement her emergency backup plan. She didn’t want to disappear again, but if David wasn’t going to be part of her life, there would be no reason to hang around and every reason to go. To hell with Michalis and his threats. He might think he could chase her down, he’d threatened to do it if she ran, but she’d managed to disappear once; she could do it again. All she needed was the right opportunity and she was gone.

Aurelia smiled to herself. She always kept “apocalypse” supplies; her mother had taught her to do that. Every new place they went, the first thing they did was rent a storage unit, prepaid for a year at a time––in cash. Inside the unit, they kept“go” bags filled with money, spare clothes, first aid supplies, water, some basic tools and three ten-gallon cans of gas. But the most important item? Her mother kept a raven black, 1969 Boss 429 Mustang in the unit that only came out when they had to move. And because they couldn’t afford to keep license plates on it, they only took it out in the dead of night, when no one would notice, relying on public transportation the rest of the time.

She told Aurelia that next to his daughter, the mustang was her father’s pride and joy before he died, and the only reason Aurelia could ever sell it––and then only to the man whose number she kept in the glove box––was if she was in real trouble. Otherwise, it was their getaway “apocalypse” car––and her mother, one of the best mechanics Aurelia had ever met, made sure Aurelia learned how to keep it purring, too. It was old; there was nothing digital on it. No GPS, no way to track it, manual transmission, and it was lightning fast––built with a trueNascarengine––barely street legal. No one knew about that car. No one. All she had to do was find her way back to Houston to get it.

By 6:30 pm, Aurelia’s stomach was grumbling, and she was wearing a hole in the carpet from pacing all night. Sighing, she went over the closet and grabbed another men’s shirt off the hanger. This one was solid black, which suited her mood just fine.

No need to take a shower, she’d already done that hours ago, hoping the hot water would help her relax. Her hair was nearly dry, so that was something, anyway. Looking in the mirror, she was surprised she didn’t have dark circles under her eyes.

Should she put her hair up? She hated doing that when it was still damp. It never dried all the way.

And what about her shoes? They were killer shoes, literally, and cost a fortune, but they were party shoes.

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