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“Strip,” Rémy orders.
I frown in confusion, coming out of the fog. “What?”
“I said, take off your fucking clothes, or so help me God, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
I look at Maxim and Calix, who stand there stoically, not stepping in or saying a word.
“Don’t look at them. They won’t help you now.”
He steps forward and grips my chin, not hard enough to bruise but enough that I can’t look away from him.
“That day you stepped between Maxim and the bullet I fired; I thought my heart would stop. I swore to all that was holy that nothing was ever going to take you from me. And then I stood there and watched you hold a gun to your jaw.”
His face is like stone but his eyes burn with fire. “I didn’t really believe you’d do it until today. Until you thought nothing of diving off that fucking roof,” he roars. “You almost took yourself away from me, from us, from all those crazy fuckers at the hospital that obviously care about you. You did that. I can protect you from just about anyone, but I didn’t think for a single second I’d need to protect you from yourself.”
“Rémy,” I whisper his name like a plea.
“I can’t breathe without you, but you didn’t think of me at all. You just jumped, not caring that my heart would have died right along with you.”
His words crack the numbness down the middle, the hollowness inside filling with all the stuff I don’t want to feel. Tears run down my face as Rémy leans forward.
“Next time you find yourself in a situation like that, and let’s be honest, you will because trouble finds you no matter where you go, I want you to think. I want you to remember me, us, and all the other people that need you in their lives. Now take off your fucking clothes before I rip them from you. It’s time we showed you exactly who you belong to.”
My anger at them is still there, but I’m feeling too many other things right now to deal with that. I know Rémy. He’ll do what he wants, including me. Fighting him will only delay the inevitable. Plus, I need to feel something other than grief.
He releases me and steps back as I reach down and grab the hem of my black T-shirt and lift it over my head. Goosebumps pebble my skin as they watch me, but I ignore them as I reach for the fly of my jeans and tear them open. I shove them down my legs, not aiming for sexy. That’s not what this is. I kick them off and reach behind me for the clasp of my bra when Maxim steps forward. He reaches around and unfastens my bra, pulling it free from my arms, his eyes on mine instead of my bare breasts.
“You ran from me.”
“You knew I would,” I tell him, remembering the desperation in his lovemaking.
He nods.
“I expected more from you,” he tuts, moving behind me.
His words stoke the flame of my anger, fanning it until it begins to grow once more.
“Funny, I could say the same.”
He yanks my arms behind my back and ties my wrists with my bra, the lacy material digging into my skin as he whispers in my ear, “You should have run further, ahn-gyil. You underestimate my hunger for you.” He bites my ear before stepping away. He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the chair closest to him.
Because I’m watching Maxim, I miss Calix moving until he’s standing right in front of me. His eyes dip to my chest, then down the rest of my body, taking in the bruises and scrapes marring my skin.
“Every time I see you, there are bruises and blood.”
“They’ll heal,” I tell him coldly, not looking at him as he squats down and hooks his fingers in my underwear and drags the scrap of fabric down my legs. I step out of them, blinking to hold back my tears.
We’ve been here before, Calix and I, and it never ends well. The bruises on my skin are nothing compared to the bruises this man left on my heart.
His hands glide up my legs as he stands, his hand covering the brand. “One day, I’ll cover this with one of my own.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I snarl, which makes him chuckle.
“Now, why would I do that when I have you, wife? Fight me all you want. It just makes my dick harder, picturing you squirming around on my cock, your tight pussy milking my cum from me.”
“You don’t have me, though, do you, hubby? You threw me away like trash.” I turn away, but he grabs my jaw and yanks it back.
“I did what I had to do to keep you safe. Yeah, that marked you. I can see that. I knew I was in deep with you. I just didn’t know you were in deep too. What I feel for you…that’s what people start wars over. I’d sacrifice everything just to count your heartbeats, hear the rapid pounding of your pulse, and feel your soft breaths against my skin. Because all those things mean you’re alive. I’d rather live a life of loneliness knowing you’re breathing than be the reason you’re buried in the dirt.”
