My heart twists with a pain that’s unbearable as I crawl away quickly, trying to escape. I slip against the ground, crashing hard to the cold, unforgiving floor.

“No!” I scream at him, leaving a strangled cry to linger between us. It’s only then that I even register I’m crying.

I try again to run, managing to get to my feet this time and the foyer is so close as I stumble out of the kitchen. I call out for help, although I doubt anyone could hear us. Not here inside Mason’s home. I practically slam into the front door, but Mason’s right behind me.

With one hand on the door and one on the knob, his hard body presses against mine, trapping me between him and my only escape.

His large body cages me in. I’m left facing the door, barely able to stand or breathe. “You were never supposed to know,” he whispers. I shrink beneath him, the weight of the reality crashing down on me. “I’m sorry.”

I’ve fallen in love with my husband’s killer. I’ve slept with him and given him everything.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Jules.” His warm breath sends shivers down my back as he adds, “But I can’t let you leave.”

Julia

The only thing you need to worry about is remembering my name. Just my name and what I've done to you tonight.

Mason whispered those words so close to my ear, sending a shiver of want through my body. It was everything I desired when I met him. He made that promise to me the first night, and I so easily fell into his bed.

I’d been so desperate to feel anything but the heartache and misery I’d succumbed to.

If only I could take it back.

If only I’d known this man was the cause of my pain.

Anger seethes inside me as I stare at him across the other side of his bedroom, where he’s sitting in the corner. His elbows rest on his thighs as he hunches over the edge of the reading chair with his head in his hands. His fingers run back and forth along the back of his head as if there’s a thought inside his mind he can’t quite reach.

He won’t look at me; he merely stares at the ground in complete silence. All the while I’m shattered, and with every minute that passes I feel the broken pieces more and more.

My body is restless and my eyes burn with a desperate need to cry, but I have nothing left.

I try to scoot my exhausted body up the bed to soothe my sore arms, but the rope tied around my wrists tightens with the sudden pull, chafing me. I wince and suck in a breath through clenched teeth; my shoulders are screaming in pain.

Hours have passed since I found out the truth. Hours spent restrained to this bed. When I wouldn’t stop screaming and fighting him, clawing at him and trying to escape his strong grip, he tied me up.

It’s been only minutes since he’s come back into the room, though. Minutes since he’s opened that door and let his eyes rest on me. I’m pathetic, weak and completely at his mercy. Captive to a man I loved who hid a secret so dark and corrupt it’s ruined me. I’ll never be the same. There’s no way to recover.

Ticktock. Ticktock.

It’s only been minutes since he lowered himself into the chair without speaking a word to me, I remind myself. He sits in a chair I brought from my home to his. A chair I’d cried countless tears in after my husband died.

And yet he says nothing. It’s the silence that kills me.

“I hate you.” The words slowly scrape their way up my sore throat. They’re barely audible, since my voice is so raspy and weak from all the screaming.

He slowly lifts his head, his corded muscles rippling. For the first time since I’ve been with Mason, after months spent falling in love with him, I feel real agony. The small involuntary shudder my body makes proves there’s a bit of fear present too.

The sharp lines of his jaw look more intense in the dim light, the shadows only making them seem more severe. His steel gray eyes are like daggers as he captures my gaze.

I can’t breathe; I can’t look away. I hate him for what he did then and I hate him for how he’s making me feel now.

“You don’t,” he says and his voice is rough and deep. He sounds stronger than before. But it’s a lie. All lies.

I do. I hate him more than I could ever express.

Finally, I gasp for air rather than crying any more tears, breaking his gaze to stare up at the ceiling. Even that minor movement makes the raw wounds at my wrists hurt. I try to hide it, though.

I gave this man everything. How could I have been so foolish? “I hate you more than you’ll ever know,” I murmur to the ceiling in an eerily calm voice although my heart is anything but.

The creaking of the floorboards grabs my attention, and my gaze whips to Mason as he stands. Goosebumps spread slowly over every inch of my skin as he rises.

His muscular frame seems so much larger in this moment, and a hint of a lethal concoction gives a low stir in the pit of my stomach. He’s always been dominating and intimidating, but this is something darker… something more.

I have nothing to protect me, not even a sheet. He stripped the linens off the bed before tying me up and I was left in only the underwear and baggy, thin cotton T-shirt I slipped on this morning. The chill is getting to me.

The bed dips and groans as he places a knee on it only inches away from me. I would struggle to pull away, but I’m stuck here. Both of us know that.

“I love you, Jules,” he murmurs and his words are a mix of strangled pain and determination. He’s a broken man with a tortured soul.

I don’t know how I could possibly look at a man who’s done this to me and feel any kind of sorrow for him, but I do.

I’ve met men before who’ve been wound tight, waiting to go off like a bomb. They were always constantly on edge and ready for a fight at a moment’s notice. Mason’s not like that. Instead he’s like thread loosely wrapped around a spindle, nothing but a mess of tangles. It’s not soft string; this thread’s sharp to the touch and there’s no hope at unraveling it without cutting yourself.

I never knew how deeply he’d wounded me. I had no idea that while I was busy mending myself and leaning on him for support, he was watching me bleed out, saying nothing. The closer he got, the deeper the inevitable betrayal, but that didn’t stop him. He had so many chances to tell me what he’d done.

I let my head drop to look him in the eyes. It makes my heart swell with an unbearable pain to have him so close to me. To see how injured he is, but knowing it’s nothing compared to what he’s done to me.

I truly loved him. I thought fate had given me a second chance at love and happiness. I knew it was too good to be true.

“How could you do that?” The aching question isn’t what I’d planned to say when I narrowed my eyes. “You’re sick,” I add and the words are gritted out somehow, bearing the strength I was aiming for and I wait for him to strike back with the same venom I’ve given him.

His steady breathing is somehow calming and it irritates me as I watch his chest rise and fall. “Maybe,” he says before rising off the bed and turning away from me. My heart plummets at the sight of his back to me and my expression crumples. It physically hurts me to know he’s hurting too. I thought I knew agony before. My God.

Why did this happen? How could it happen?