Page 73 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

“What? Why not?”

“It’s over, James. It’s been over for years—long before I walked out.”

“No,” he snarled. “We’re not over until I say we’re over.”

I knew that tone of voice all too well.

He was angry, very angry, and I had no idea what he was going to do.

My heart started pounding against my chest when he took a step toward me. My instincts kicked in, and I quickly began backing away from him, only stopping when my back hit my door.

In just a blink, he was standing inches away from me with a fierce look in his eyes. He used the weight of his body to prevent me from moving, then reached behind me and opened my door.

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

The second I saw that look in his eyes, I froze. He took hold of my arm and gave me a hard shove, forcing me up the stairs. I wanted to fight him, to kick and scream. I wanted to scratch his eyes out, but I didn’t.

Instead, I let him force me up those stairs and into my apartment. Maybe it was my fear or the fact that I always knew this day would come, but I just stood there and waited for him to finish what he’d started so long ago.

He closed the door, then turned to me as he snarled, “It didn’t have to be this way, Jules. If you’d just given me a chance... If you’d just listened to me.”

“I listened to you for years, James.” My voice was surprisingly steady. “I listened to your empty promises, and I prayed that you would follow through. But you never did. It was all lies.”

“You’ve never understood me. You never even tried.” He got louder and louder as he continued. “I loved you. I worked my ass off trying to give you everything you could possibly want, but it was never enough. You always wanted more!”

“No, I never wanted anything from you. I just wanted to feel safe in my own home, but I never did. You made sure of that.”

“I’m the reason you had a home in the first place. As far as I remember, no one else wanted you. Do you really think losing weight, cutting your hair, and fucking around with God knows who changes anything?” he roared. “It doesn’t change a goddamn thing! You’re still the same pathetic piece of shit you were when we were together.”

I could see the vein pulsing in his neck.

The redness crept up his cheeks.

The flare of his nostrils.

I knew what was coming, and I was helpless to stop it.

I could only stand there and watch as he reared back his fist then slammed it into my stomach. A loud huff slipped through my lips as the wind rushed from my lungs. I hunched over and brought my arm up to my face, hoping it would shield me from the next blow, but he grabbed my hair, forcing me upright as he roared, “You did this! It didn’t have to be this way.”

While James stood there shouting at me, I thought I heard the faint sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

I hoped it meant that someone was coming to my rescue, that maybe I might just survive, but then, the sound faded.

I knew then all hope was lost.

“You can forget the fucking divorce, Jules. You’re mine. I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

I was feeling woozy and struggling to stand, but I was still hanging on. I didn’t want to give in to him, but then he hit me again. It was a forceful blow to my temple—much more than I could withstand.

And that was it.

The room started to spin, and seconds later, I hit the floor. I was about to lose consciousness when I thought I heard my front door open. I tried to look, but just as I started to turn my head, James kicked me in the back of my head, and everything went black.

Q

“You’re only making it harder on yourselves.”

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