Page 19 of Cruel Possession

I can’t allow it to slow me down. I’ve been shot before, and I’m sure I’ll be shot again.

Except when I take a step forward, there’s another shot and this time, the bullet sinks into my thigh.

I bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood.

Aiden catches up to me, hovering over me with the gun pointed at my head, blood dripping down his arm. “That was stupid.”

“So are you.”

Nice, Zoe, real mature. Maybe next time, you’ll stick out your tongue and call him a poopyhead.

The corner of my mouth twitches at the thought of insulting Aiden with something so childlike.

He likely wouldn’t know what to do with himself, and it might give me enough time to get away. If not for the bullet lodged in my damn leg.

He takes the final step toward me and crouches down, pressing the gun beneath my chin. “I wanted this to be as easy as possible.I was going to treat you nice. Maybe take you inside and give you something to eat. But then you go and take my kindness for weakness?”

“You attacked me and forced me to marry you.” I grab the ripped hem of the wedding dress, pulling it up higher, splitting the cheap fabric until it drapes around my legs so I can get a better look at my thigh. “And then you shot me. Twice.”

“You stabbed me.”

“Should’ve slit your throat,” I mutter as I stick my fingers into the wound, trying not to scream while searching for the bullet.

The color drains from his face, and his skin looks a little green.

I wouldn’t think that someone who spends his days being a psychotic bastard could get squeamish.

And yet here he is, looking like me digging around for a bullet is the worst part of his day.

Aiden digs the gun deeper into my jaw, forcing my head back. “Stop. I’ll get someone else to take the bullet out.”

I find it and pinch it between two fingers, pulling it out and tossing it to the side. “No need.”

He pulls the gun away. “What the fuck are you?”

While he’s distracted, I kick him hard in the dick.

He falls back, cracking his head against the ground as I scramble to my feet.

There are still rocks in my hands and pain in my thigh, but I can deal with all of that when I get somewhere safe.

“For fuck’s sake!”

I run faster, though it’s more a hop and jog than a run, reaching the end of the driveway and taking a sharp right.

Trees line the road, but houses are visible at the end of it.

I just have to make it there while he’s still recovering from having his cock kicked inside out. As long as I can do that, I’m not going to have to deal with the bastard.

And then I can file for divorce.

And then I will kill him.

There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s going to die for forcing me to marry him.

I’m going to take my time with him too.

He’ll think that me digging around in my thigh is the stuff dreams are made of by the time I’m done with him.