Page 11 of Sparrow

I can’t stay silent anymore. I push the door open and step inside.

“What the hell is going on here?” I ask, arms crossed over my chest.

Jaxon sits stoically, unfazed that I’ve just overheard this little drug deal.

“Clint, this is my wife, Amelia. She apologizes for her rude interruption, and will now be leaving the room, while the men finish their business.” His eyes shoot lasers through me.

“The hell I will. Clint, I need a moment with my husband.” I’m not budging. Fuck that.

“I’ve got all I need here anyway,” Clint says as he stands. “I’ll be in touch, Jax. Very soon.”

I step out of the way and let him walk past. When I’m certain we are alone, I finally speak.

“Jaxon, what the fuck—” He lunges at me before I can speak, closing the distance between us in just a few strides. I scramble back to get away from him, but I’m too late. He grasps my shoulders in his hands and slams me back into the wall not once, not twice, but three times.

My head is screaming in pain and tears are stinging my eyes. I stare into the eyes of the man I married, the man that has, at the snap of a finger, become a monster. I’ve seen his temper. Felt his controlling nature, but this is new.

“Listen here, you bitch. You may think you’re hot shit because I’ve bathed you in diamonds and put you up in a multi-million dollar mansion and gave you a fucking Tesla to drive in all day long, but you’re nothing. You’re less than nothing. You don’t know what you saw here, and even if you did, you’re going to forget about it and play spoiled housewife like a good girl.” He’s seething. I can smell the scotch on his breath.

“Jaxon...You’re hurting me,” I say, as my throat constricts in fear and pain.

“And it’ll be worse if you pull a stunt like that ever again, do you understand me?”

I take a breath, lips trembling. I can’t speak.

“Apologize for interrupting a business meeting, angel. Apologize nicely,” he coos in my ear.

I open my mouth and only a sob comes out.

“You’re pronouncing ‘I’m sorry, Jaxon’ incorrectly.” He bites my neck painfully.

I moan in pain. There’s no pleasure here. I feel his anger and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, he’ll hurt me if I don’t speak up.

“I’m sorry, Jaxon. It won’t happen again.” My hands are trembling.

“You’re right. It won’t. And if it does, I’ll kill you.”

I see it in his eyes. He means every word.

He shoves me back hard, letting my knees give out. I sink like a ragdoll to the ground as he steps over me and out of his office.

I’ve not felt this helpless since my father died. I curl my body into the fetal position and cry.

Not for me. Not for what just happened.

I cry because I know I’m not strong enough to walk away.

Fear will win.

It always wins.

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