Page 324 of Hell Hath No Fury
Did she free herself? Did she run?
I march down the hall, nausea flooding my gut. I take the steps two at a time. “Nissa?”
The house remains quiet. There’s nothing but my thudding footsteps and my pounding pulse.
“Nissa?” I shout at the top of the staircase, breaking into a jog.
My head fills with images of a life without her. A life that I don’t want to live.
If she’s gone, I’ll…
I come to a stop at my doorway, my bones aching at the sight of her.
She sits on the bed with her back against the headboard, her cuffed wrist at her side, her knees cuddled to her chest as her glassy eyes meet mine.
I breathe in her suffering, each inhale scorching my lungs as I slowly enter the room to stand tall at the foot of the bed.
She doesn’t say a word, but her cold, fearful silence leaves a scar.
She loathes me—the man I am and the atrocities I unleash. But she loves me, too. I can see it through her protective scowl.
I reach into my pocket and retrieve the cuff key to lob it at her. She grabs the offering and unlocks her shackled wrist, exposing the red skin beneath.
She fought hard to get free. Of course she did. She’s my little fox. My goddess of war.
She sniffs as she slides from the bed, her blouse gaping from where I ripped her buttons, her pantyhose destroyed. “Did you kill him?”
I want to lie. To claim horrors I could never inflict upon her in an attempt to gauge how much Easton means to her. But my devotion won’t allow it.
I raise my chin, my jaw tight. “No.”
She approaches, her steps slow. “Is he hurt?”
I wait until she’s in front of me, her delicate, beautiful skin within reach. “No.”
A relieved breath escapes her, her face crumpling in relief. “Then what did you do?”
“We spoke. Nothing more.”
“You don’t merely speak to threats, Cole.”
I did this time, little fox. I did for you.
I shut my mouth, locking the blatancy of my weakness inside.
“I didn’t sleep with him.” She shakes her head at me. “I met with a friend. I hugged a man I used to work with.”
“You lied to me,” I growl.
Her shoulders slump. “I know.”
“I thought we were stronger than that.” The bitterness seeps from me.
She hangs her head. “I’m sorry. But he said he needed to see me, and I’m sick of arguing with you over my whereabouts. I shouldn’t have to ask for permission.”
I keep my hands locked at my sides, not giving in to the temptation to touch. To fucking grab. “I don’t live in a world where lies are acceptable from the people I need to trust.”
“I know that, too. And apart from picturing Easton lying dead in a ditch, that’s all I’ve thought about. I don’t know what this means for us.” She raises her glassy eyes to mine. “What it means for me.”
