Page 26 of Meeting Melody
“Where did you get that video?” I whisper.
He turns it off when sleeping me reacts to Jacob’s touch. He wasn’t lying when he said I came… But my ex stows his phone and grips the front of my jacket, reeling me in until I’m pressed against him.
“You slut,” he seethes. “You think I’d let you move to a new city, new job, and not keep an eye on you?” He shakes his head. “And then to watchthisfucker break into your house and plant these cameras, listening devices—”
My stomach swoops. So that’s what the equipment is?
They were both spying on me?
Just when I was starting to forgive Jacob…
“And then I learned he’s a student,” he continues.
He presses a kiss to my lips, but I can’t fucking move. I don’t react. I just let him linger against my mouth until he’s satisfied.
“You’re in some deep shit, Mel.”
I glare at him. “And you’re not? Or did you forget the restraining order?”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. Where we’re going, no one will give a fuck about a restraining order. Now…” He looks me up and down. “I don’t think I need to remind you what I can share with the world if you don’t comply? I’m sure your employers—previous and current—would be interested to know how a professor seduced her student.”
The walls are closing in on me.
Why didn’t I let Jacob walk me in?
Why didn’t I stay at his house?
My ex-husband grips my upper arm and guides me out of the house. I don’t know where he’s taking me… I only know that I’ve spent the last year and a half trying to stay off his radar.
Turns out, he was just waiting for the perfect moment to yank me back into his world.
He guides me down the street and into a car I don’t recognize, and he leans into the opening. He braces his arm on the roof, his face getting too close to mine.
“They’re going to notice I’m gone.” I hate how my voice shakes. But fear does that—it takes away my fight, my control. Any bravado is quickly evaporating.
But what I mean to say ishe’sgoing to notice I’m gone.
And I know. IknowI shouldn’t rely on a twenty-one-year-old to find me, let alone save me. When I don’t even know where I’m going.
It’s that thought that distracts me. So I don’t notice the syringe in his hand until it’s too late. He injects it into my upper arm, clean through my jacket. My jaw drops. He watches me for a long moment. The drug he injected spreads through me, hot and fast. My heart picks up speed.
I’m on a roller coaster going up, up, up. But then I crest the top, and my stomach swoops. I drop down, down, down… then slide to a halt.
He catches me before I fall out of the car, and I moan when he drops my seat back into a more reclined position. He draws the seatbelt across me and presses another kiss to my cheek. The headrest cradles my head, because I’ve lost all control of my muscles.
My skin crawls. My mind is already going, a dark blanket descending over me.
The last thing I wish for is someone to save me.
But the last thing I hear is my nightmare whispering, “Merry Christmas, wife. We’re going home.”
TO BE CONTINUED…