Page 98 of Choke

“Oh. You are completely out of your fucking mind. I mean, I knew it, but this is certifiable.” I struggle to get the words out between bouts of laughter.

When I look back at him, his eyes have darkened, and he’s holding the box out to me.

“Put it on.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I let the laughter fade.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

He takes a step forward.

“If you think I’m just going to—”

His low voice cuts me off.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, this ring is going on your fucking finger.”

He can’t be serious.

I’m laughing again, but it’s shaky and nervous. I push my hands under my arms, against my body, and shake my head.

“Adrian, you’re not going to force that fucking thing onto me.”

This time, he laughs, and it chills me to the bone.

“You bet your ass I will.”

I unravel my arms and pause, letting him think I’m giving in, before shoving them behind my back and pressing all my weight into the wall. It bites into my wrists, but I steel my expression. He smirks again before reaching forward, grabbing my left arm, and ripping it from behind me. The aggressive movement has me tumbling forward, and a pained squeal escapes my mouth. He pulls the ring free, flinging thebox across the room. It hits the wall with a dull thud. I flinch. His grip is brutal, and my hand aches instantly.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it!” I scream.

He releases me and presses the small band into my palm. I look down at it; it’s pretty. Two vines of thorns swirl together. If the situation were different, I’d love this addition to the collection I wear daily.

“Put it on.”

I try my ring finger, but it’s too large.

“It’s not a wedding ring, Lex.” His tone taunts me.

“How the fuck do I know what your twisted fucking mind was thinking with this?”

I move to my pointer finger and push it down—it’s tight, but I force it on. When it passes my knuckle, something almost clicks.

This doesn’t feel right.

It feels almost sharp. I move to pull it off to see why it feels like it’s cutting into me, and his hand lands on mine.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I look at his face; the playful look there makes my anxiety skyrocket.

Oh no.

I try desperately to pull the ring off; pain lances through my fingers. I hiss, yanking harder. Something warm slides down my hand. I freeze, looking down, a tiny perfect bead of blood seeping from where the metal meets my skin.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Panic. I panic. Twisting the ring back and forth, crying out as it cuts the skin under it. Horror sets in, and I look at him, mouth agape, my pulse thunders in my ears.

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