Page 15 of Vows From Hell

Something was terribly wrong with me.

Why did that make me aroused? Why did his threat of taking another person’s life make me forget the pain and suffering of the past three years and make me want to pounce on him?

“That would only bring more issues than it would resolve. Let’s not do that.’’

“Then don’t say his name anymore.’’

I ignored him. “So, what’s the plan? If they find us within a week, how should we proceed?”

Micah’s hands came to my waist, a spark erupting in my stomach. He tailed his fingers all over my hips before giving it a light squeeze.

“You shouldn’t worry about that.’’

How in the world was I supposed not to worry about that?

Worst-case scenario: we got caught and he was sent to prison.

Worst-case scenario number two: Kyle connected the dots and I got imprisoned with Micah.

Micah could potentially escape again, but me? I wouldn’t survive a day in prison.

“How am I supposed to trust you, Micah? You couldn’t even keep your promise to come back to me.’’

“I came back, didn’t I? And I promise, I’m never leaving your side again.’’

I started protesting and giving him the silent treatment.

For two hours straight, I tried getting answers out of him. Half about his whereabouts in the past years, alongside what he’d been doing, and the other half about what the fuck he was planning to do?

In the end, he told me he had a job due at midnight, and he left me alone.

There wasn’t an inch of this house I hadn’t turned upside down. I didn’t care about putting things back the way they were, since I noticed two cameras covering the living space.

He was bound to figure out one way or the other that I’d been snooping.

It was beyond frustrating.

Back in the cabin, he left the box with information about his sister under the bed, so I was able to figure out at least some parts of his past. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough for me to at least grasp why he did what he did.

This time around, there wasn’t anything.

Not a single piece of paper, not a single news article I deemed useful. Aside from the pictures of me, and all things related to me, he had nothing personal around here. Not even a notepad.

I was unable to find any electronic devices.

It was too plain.

However, it was lived in.

It took time and effort to put my pictures on the wall in chronological order. He has been here for the past three years.

Cups, plates, glasses, and sheets were all used.

But this wasn’t the place he had prepared for me, that much I was sure of.

It was sloppy and easily destroyed.

He didn’t count on the team making that statement.