His Possession, Her Escape

nt door. "Mr. Johnson reques

of him. I knew I had to go. Brennan had my mother. He was paying for he

dampness of the basement had seeped into my bones

nd Debbi were already finishing their meal. Debbi

m so sorry about what happened. Let me get you some s

up to me, her eyes holding a mali

ching me, waiting for my reaction. I reached for

ds, and the scalding hot soup splashed all over my front, soa

ng to heal, felt like it had been ripped open again. I

, looking at him, p

icker of concern. He sta

high-pitched scream. "My

ntly. He rushed to her side, ignoring me

on the back. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voic

ng in her eyes. "I'm more worried about

t you've done," he said, his voice cold with disgust.

ologize to her. And then you

in front of her, a positi

s burning with defiance. "Who am I to

us?" he hissed. "Fine. How is your mother doing at the cli

l mother, whose life was in his hands. He knew my weak

no c

burn throbbing under the wet bandage. But I carefully, gently, applied the cream

scaped and fell

ing chuckle. He patted the back of my head, a gesture that was o

I was delirious, drifting in and out of consciousness. In my feve

sterile white r

eep, looked younger, more like the man I had married. Fo

or help?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep

lling his name, my calls going unanswered. I had tried to

ilence. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of

oking out the window. I h

cloying, came through the speaker. "Brennan, darlin

there," h

ker of something in his eyes – guilt? Pit

to see my father's old collection," I said,

his small request could absolve him of

warned, his voice hardenin

ched my lips for the first

n old family friend. Brennan trusted