Page 85 of Wretched Love


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The grip might’ve been designed to hurt me, but I couldn’t say for sure. I couldn’t feel anything.

His hand lingered there in silence for a few seconds more. Or maybe it was minutes. Hours.

Who knew?

The door slammed shut, and I realized that his hand was no longer on my thigh, that he had left me in the car alone.

This was it. My chance. To run. Who knew where. Maybe back to the motel in Garnett where I had my things. I had cash. Not much, but enough. I still had my wedding rings. Preston somehow hadn’t noticed they weren’t on my fingers. How long had we been driving for? How long would it take me to walk?

It didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. I should’ve got out of the car and ran. Crawled, if need be.

But I didn’t move a muscle. Not for minutes. Hours. Lifetimes. Not until Preston got back in the car and directed us to the hotel room.

He had trained me well.

I expected a blow the second the hotel room door closed. I was braced for it. The soft footfalls of his eight-hundred-dollar sneakers against the hotel carpet echoed in my ears, my body taut, tensed. Preston’s eyes were intent on me, his expression carefully blank. There was a low ringing in my ears as I watched him move closer.

I could feel the punch already. The crush of his knuckles against the soft flesh of my stomach. Those expensive sneakers kicking my ribs once I was down on the floor. I could see every moment of it.

But no impact came.

Instead, one of his hands settled on my hip, and the other brushed my cheekbone.

I flinched at his touch, disgusted by him, his smooth hands, his expensive cologne.

Preston’s eyes darkened at my flinch, and my teeth sank into my lip, readying for the consequences of such a flinch.

But still, no impact came.

“You let another man touch you,” he whispered, and his fingers pressed into my hip. “Touch what was mine.” His hand moved so his thumb brushed my bottom lip. “But it’s okay. I just need to take it back.”

There was no longer a hand at my hip. His fingers were undoing my jeans.

“I need to take you back.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as he pulled off my clothes.

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