Chapter 8

It had been a long day, but Jane and I were both very happy to be home. She was glowing, having a lot of new goods acquired and I was delighted that finally ended. She made the decision to go shopping again the following day, and we both retired to our rooms to get some rest. I took a bath while seeing the nighttime skyline of New York, and she... I had no idea what she was doing, in fact. Perhaps trying everything she had purchased that day or doing something different. In any case, that doesn't matter right now.

I eventually crawled beneath the nice blanket, taking a few deep breaths and pondering what could be better than resting in a warm bed and taking in the beauty outside the window. The evening seemed promising. I closed my eyes and dozed out at that same moment, forgetting about Ranold Hamilton.

Water dripping into the bathroom startled me up. I grabbed my phone to check the time at first since I didn't even know what was happening. 3:42am. I yawned, sat up on the bed, turned on my back, and peered into the bathroom. I shivered as I noticed my husband staying there in the torn shirt. He was staring in the mirror at his nasty cut on his arm while carrying a bottle of booze in his palm. He inhaled deeply and drank some of the liquid from the bottle before pouring it on the wound. Once the breath became strangled, I heard a soft hissing.

I shivered as I watched him gently start stitching the wound while I was still lying back with my head covered in the blanket.

I could hear his slow steps and strained breathing. Then there was the sound of water gushing. Once the lights were off, I heard him turn toward the wardrobe. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. I had entirely forgotten that Ranold Hamilton was my husband.

He whispered softly, "I know you're not sleeping."

I shuddered. After what occurred the last time, I had not heard his voice in almost a week, and all I wanted to do was disappear beneath the warm duvet. I didn't want to speak with him. I did not want to listen to him. I didn't want to be near him. He was the exact opposite. And so, when I felt him crouching down on the mattress and drawing near, I shuddered. He placed a warm hand on my hip, patted it down just a little, and then raised his arm slightly while bending my knee.

He asked in a lower, deeper voice, making me tremble once more, "I wasn't at home for a week. Didn't you miss me?"

"No…" I answered barely audibly, but then I felt his hot palm lightly touch my waist and I rolled onto my tummy.

I nearly heard him mutter "Olivier" in my ear, and I squeezed down as I felt the warmth of his body cover me.

He reached under my neck, grabbed me by the shoulder, and turned my face toward him as I cried, hands clenched to my chest.

He emphasized the term "was," saying, "The only person you should have been terrified of in the entire world was me. Until I married you."

My husband then kissed me. I had a sudden, gentle, and inner-body shiver. At the same time, I needed his warmth more than anything and wanted to cry and hug him. But I simply gripped his shoulder to stop myself from thinking so and to remind myself that the person kissing me was Ranold Hamilton himself.

Suddenly, the kiss deepened without becoming rougher. He completely covered my mouth, and I felt his hot hand on my chest. When he lightly touched my nipple and started gently patting it to get it firm, I slightly shuddered. As he continued, I shivered once again as my body appeared to betray me by reacting to his actions. Only after feeling a cool cushion under my cheek did I finally realize what was happening. I was taking deep breaths and blowing air out of my nostrils. I didn't even recall how he got into me. He grabbed up my chin and started kissing me repeatedly before I realized we were having sex. Then my neck, shoulders, and back all at once. He was placing his fingers on my chest, hips, tummy, and waist. I can still hear myself quietly groaning, as though I were taking pleasure in the process.

Though I wasn't. I tried to be strong. I attempted to say "no," but it was difficult because I was constantly engaged with his tongue or the groans that came from his fondling.

***

I lamented my gullibility when I awoke the next morning. I opted to believe that everything going on was just my husband's cunning scheme to win my approval because I didn't know what the actual deal was. He was breathing on my head as I was gazing at the door. My bare skin touched his nude body as he hugged me hard. He had his hand on my breast, and I could feel his hairy leg squeezing in between mine.

'How did things get to this point? What was that all about yesterday?' In my head, I tried to berate myself, but it had no positive effect.

I heard my husband's voice behind me say, "Good morning."

'Is he awake? How much time has he been awake? Did he catch anything?' The first ideas that popped into my head were.

"G-good… morning…" Just out of politeness and to avoid upsetting him, I forced it out my mouth.

I shivered as I felt his leg tuck between my hips as he moved a little to hug me even tighter. I shuddered and tightened my legs together as I felt my grease slither across his hairy skin. He gave my shoulder a kiss. Jane's voice came from behind the door as it was being knocked on slowly and carefully.

"Ranold, although I can appreciate how enjoyable it must be to spend the entire morning lounging in bed with your husband, I did not intentionally drive the car into the tree in an attempt to kill the prosecutor. Wake up and make your way to the living room. We must talk about everything.

My husband raised himself from the bed and chuckled with his tongue. "Jane, I'm on my way. Wait five seconds."

"I'm not sure if five seconds will be sufficient for you. Last night, you spent an hour and a half having fun," Jane replied as she moved away from the door.

My husband finally stood up, grinned, and gave me another shoulder kiss. I swung to the opposite side after sensing that the area beneath him was still heated. I covered my head with the blanket and started daydreaming.

'When Jane called him out, he chuckled with his tongue. My shoulder was kissed by him? For an hour and a half, we fucked!' My goodness, that really screwed me up. I had absolutely no memories. Yes, I do recall, but it only seemed to last twenty minutes, not an hour and a half! I was astounded, puzzled, and perplexed. The facts Jane gave me made me feel a little afraid. I was able to unwind a bit after the hot shower.

I was left alone in the hotel room for two weeks following that day by my husband and Jane. They stated that they needed to take care of a few important issues, attend a trial, and handle a few other items. But before he left, my husband sent me a letter from the UNO with numerous application forms and documentation I needed to complete. The placement tests, which I was supposed to pass in two weeks, and a list of subjects were also included. I was quite shocked that he knew everything about my academic pursuits. While I was busy talking to my mom and sister throughout those days, I was also keeping my current location a secret from my mother by pretending to be somewhere in New Orleans.

Two guards were always with me. All of my necessities, including food, were provided to me. My husband would send me a message over messenger every day to see if I needed anything. I replied to him. And I finally changed his name to "The Husband." As a result, I was constantly aware of when to respond to messages.

The hotel room was empty again when nighttime came. My body was covered in a towel because I had just taken a shower. Like the previous two weeks, it was actually incredibly calm. I then heard some footsteps in the living room as I was walking toward the wardrobe. They moved pretty quickly and were ragged and rough, as if someone were seeking for something. I hurriedly got into bed, grabbed my phone, and texted my husband—the only person I knew who could help.

'Is that you?'

As the steps quickly drew near my bedroom, I saw my quivering hands over the screen.

'Under the bed.'

'NOW'

As soon as I received the message, I slid under the bed and quickly laid on the icy floor. As soon as the door opened, I noticed someone's boots entering the bathroom through the bedroom.

'They're in there!'

I penned while my eyes were weeping with anxiety. I was going to cry.

'Remain silent. Not a peep.'

I was so terrified that I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped for air.

"Someone is in the room!" I trembled throughout my entire body as someone spoke in a loud voice.

The second voice said, "I feel him. "That's a motherfucking omega. He is here."

I was about to hurry to the terrace and leap from the height when I heard the gunshots. I had eyes full of fear and was so terrified that he had located me by my scent or something. I was trembling like a total pussy. When the shots kept coming and I heard glass breaking, I screamed in silence. Someone knelt down on the floor next to my bed and grabbed my arm as I was ready to scream in terror at the sight of the bullet holes. The man pulled me to himself and hugged my shoulders while I yelled and clenched my phone in my hands.

I eventually started crying out loud when he said, "We're from Hamilton."

In the hallway, there were two more men. Before we could get to the elevator, a door burst open, letting a couple armed men enter. They started shooting each other as we turned and quickly descended the steps, and I shouted. The man was firmly holding me even if my legs were stumbling. Another shoot appeared out of nowhere from the ground. I'm not sure how I managed to survive it all as he started firing while running down the stairs and pulled me along with him, but we eventually showed up on the other floor with the same horrified folks as I did. Inquiring about what had occurred, they entered the hallway. They started screaming and scurrying away as soon as they saw us. When the elevator finally opened, the man shoved me inside. I could hear the police sirens getting closer.

We entered the crowded hall. Like nothing had happened, they were all moving peacefully and about their own business. I was shaky and could only put one foot in front of the other as I made an effort to follow the man who was supporting me. We stepped outside, and when the black jeep pulled up in front of us, he shot two men in the street.

The recent events had absolutely shattered me to pieces, and I was holding my towel close to my chest. I was clattering and trembling a lot. Both my feet and the rest of my body were a complete mess. I didn't give a damn about my scrotum sticking out of the towel, or the fact that my hips were practically bare. I didn't care at that moment. I just wanted to be somewhere safe. I clutched my phone if it were the most essential thing in my life.

The path began to shift. We were in an outlying area. We then continued on the highway. The driver started to accelerate as we turned right and entered the unidentified tiny town. We arrived at the large house with the lights on. It seemed unusually silent, as if there were no neighbors around. I felt gravel under my feet as we walked out of the car and came inside the house. There were a lot of people inside with weapons charging the stores. They were moving about as though they were getting ready for something. I recognized the voice in the living room as we continued on. I saw my husband's back. He was speaking on his phone.

As soon as the call was ended, he spun around, picked up his coat off the couch, wrapped it around me, and pulled me close to him. I eventually stopped trembling when I heard his slow heartbeat.