Page 64 of Sparrow

I SHOWERED AShe told me to, crying the entire time. My tears swirled down the drain with the scent of Grayson that was lingering on my skin. It’s like the soap washed away the person I found when I got back to Savannah, and I step out of the shower the scared, abused woman I was in California.

I wrap the towel around me and slowly open the bathroom door, peeking out first, half expecting Jaxon to be standing there waiting for me, but he’s not.

I step into the hall and turn toward my bedroom when music booms out of the stereo system, making me jump out of my skin. It takes me a minute to decipher what the song is, but soon I realize it’s the song that we danced to at our wedding.

I try to tune it out, to focus on the task at hand—staying alive—but it’s ringing in my ears, growing louder and louder, consuming my thoughts.

I need to get away from it, but it’s chasing me even as I run into my bedroom and shut the door.

On the bed lays a red, lace, barely-there number and a pair of sky-high black stilettos. I’ve never seen them before so he must have brought them with him. I feel sick. I can’t do this. I need to get out of here. I need to call the police. I need Grayson.

I muster up what little courage I have and turn back toward the door, yanking it open, prepared to run, prepared to live, but I’m met with the barrel of a gun pressed to my forehead.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” He presses the metal harder into my head, forcing me back into the bedroom.

“Jaxon, please don’t hurt me. Please. I’ll do anything you want.”

“I know.” He finally pulls the gun away, but keeps it in his hand. “Drop the towel. Put on what I’ve selected for you.”

“Can I have some privacy?” I clutch the towel at my chest tightly.

“Why would you need that? I’ve been inside of you, baby. I’ve licked every inch of your skin. Drop the towel,” he hisses.

My bottom lip trembles as I slowly open the towel then let it sink to the floor, exposing myself to him. I’m bare save for the sparrow around my neck, my talisman: the one thing giving me any strength at all.

“I’ve missed you, Amelia.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” I growl.

“Aww now, now, don’t lie to me. I seem to remember when we first got married, I’d leave for business trips where I fucked many other women, and when I’d get home, you’d beg for me because you missed me so much.”

“Stop. Please just stop,” I beg.

“Get dressed. Put some makeup on, dark, like I like, and come downstairs. You have fifteen minutes.”

He leaves me to follow his instructions.

My mind won’t stop turning. I have to get out of here. I need help. Maybe if I do what he asks, and wait until he falls asleep, I may have a fighting chance. But I don’t know if I can stomach it.

I know what he wants. I know what he’s going to expect once I’m in this lingerie. He’ll want me. My body.

It’s time to be strong. You’re keeping yourself alive. You’re keeping Grayson and Cadence unhurt. You have control. Not him. I have to tell myself this over and over to keep from buckling under the pressure as I slip into the outfit and paint my face the way he likes. I step into the high heels and take a look in the mirror.

I don’t see Mills anymore. The only piece of her is around my neck, keeping me centered.

I can do this.

I open the bedroom door and descend the stairs. With each step I take, a strange mixture of increasing terror and rising confidence simmers under my skin.

“Jaxon?” I call out.

“Come to me,” I hear him say from the living room.

I step into the doorway and he speaks again. “No. On your knees.”

“That’s not—”

“Now!” He cocks the gun and it echoes through the room and forces me to my hands and knees.

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