My Neighbor's Wife

ried when I was seventeen. It wasn't so mu

I owed him an

t. How to be a docile little bitch when he needed me to. When I learned to sit by his feet without thinking it...humil

It isn't really ours. He likes to pretend it is mine, give me the illusion of freedom by leaving me all alo

every breath. He'll find me if I run-I know this, because I've tried and he's caught me within the ho

clothes her. She knows he may hurt her, but only he in the entire world gives a damn about her. Because without her captor, the captive would be dead. This is t

. I can't not be alright and ready for him when he wants to fuck me. He will never tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, lovingly. He will never tend the wounds he inflicts upon me. He will never, ever

And th

. He barely lets me out of my room anymore. Jaxon never used to lock me in. He is paranoid and always mad when he visits. This is the lo

oded in my vision, and pushed me against the floor with my face pressed into the marble. He said he lost his business deal. He said it was my fault. He was drunk. He sa

years that he'd thrown a life that had treate

the front of my dress, I'd smashed the wine bottle against his head. I hadn'

the doors and onto the streets and I'

fingers that circle around my arm. "Mrs. Hawke?" There's a hint of panic. Just a little, otherwise, the

r dance at the edges, pushing back at the unnerving coldness in them. Thick, black lashes flutter against tanned, golden

m yesterday as my neighbor raises his brows

No...I...I don't know. He was...bleeding a l

et, he doesn't quite look at me as he says, "

reach when he takes a purposeful step forward. His hand rises and I instinctively shield my face from him. But he doesn't hit me. Instea

"Are yo

nd you're asking if I'm alright?" I ask, because I don't know how to say I am not alright. I don't kn

nd disappearing behind the collar of his black shirt-it's a dragon...from the little I can see at least, painted in red and black ink-or his hair i

My

id. What he did. What if he bleeds out and...God. I shouldn't care, but I know Jaxon. He'll

he window of his sedan. "I have places to be at, Mr

I run over to the other side, tugging at the handle of the car. The tinted glass window slides

.." My voice trails off as I realize I have nowhere to go in this city. I have no one. I

ht into the car of a stranger. You're either fearless or stupid. Or both. I do n

n on this street defers to him. I ask for your help, not because I wish to cling to you or involve you in my affairs, but because I am fucking scared and Jaxon is going to kill me when he wak

and I get in the backseat out of very, very old habit. As I slam the door shut, he