Every good memory I have ever had will be gone in a matter of minutes. My dad comforting me with words of encouragement after falling off my bike as a young child. My graduation. My wedding day . . . oh God, my wedding day.

I can’t hold back the tears any more when I think about that day. The day I married my best friend. How can I forget the look on his face when I approached him at the altar? Turner looked at me as if I were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he told me as much. I was all dressed and ready to leave for the church, so I gathered my things and went to slip my feet into my white pumps. That’s when I noticed the little love poem Turner wrote on the bottom of my shoe. I turned the shoe over in my hand and read his words in surprise.

              ‘Today, you become my wife. This makes today the best day of my life.’

I don’t want it to be over yet. No!

But there is nothing I can do as my eyes start to close of their own accord. My struggles cease immediately and my arms fall limply to my sides.

“I’m not ready for you to die yet. I’ve enjoyed fucking you too much, Clove.”

He lets go of me completely and shoves me to the floor where I gasp and cough, trying to get as much air and oxygen as I can.

“Get up.” His voice drips with malice.

              “Go fuck yourself,” I say, regaining my voice.

He remains quiet for what feels like an eternity and my breathing finally comes back to normal. His stillness begins to scare me, but I will not die without a fight. I will never give up until I breathe my last breath.

I brace myself up on all fours and try to lift myself up, but as I start to stand, he grips a giant handful of my hair and whips me around. I fall back to the floor, hard, my hands flying up as if to ward off the pain he is inflicting.

I scream when he starts to drag me across the floor. He stops and yanks me up to meet his face as he kneels in front of me. He’s consumed with hatred. I can see it as plain as day seeping out of his eyes and boring into mine.

              “Shut your motherfucking mouth. One phone call to my father and your fucking pussy of a husband is dead. This ain’t no fucking joke, sweetheart, so do as I say and this will go a hell of a lot easier for you.”

My head throbs as he violently jerks my hair back and I met his steely, cold eyes. I refuse to let him become aware of the fear his words have caused me. Instead, I make direct eye contact with him indicating I will not be an easy victim. He lifts his eyebrows as if to mock my stare and I spit directly in his face.

He releases his hold on my hair and even though I desperately want to cry, I reach deep inside and think of what Zack told me a few days ago. To hold onto love. What Turner and I have with each other will be all the strength I need to get me through this.

Wiping the spit from his face with the sleeve of his shirt he continues to stare at me.

              “You know,” he says with a slight ridicule in his words, “You’re beautiful, smart, and one hell of a fuck, but I never pegged you for a woman with balls like a man.”

At that, he brings up his hand and slaps me across my face so hard he sends my head reeling back. The pain of the sting causes adrenaline to course through my veins, and yet I still say nothing. Fuck him. He can beat me all he wants.

              “You will pay for that, you dumb cunt. Let’s get one thing straight, Clove.”

He grabs hold of my chin and puts his face just a mere inch from mine.

              “If you want to see my dear old brother ever again, then I suggest you listen to me and do exactly what I say. I am not fucking around with you anymore.”

The muscles in his neck are twitching and his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. Good lord, this man is deranged.

              “How can you hate your own brother so much? What did he ever do to you?” I whisper.

He just continues to stare at me as if I have struck a nerve. So many emotions reveal themselves in his eyes. I can see them all. Hurt, anger, pain. They’re all there.

              “He was fucking born. That’s what my brother did to me. You may think you know everything, but trust me, you fucking don’t. I am a hell of a lot smarter than you think I am, so whatever kind of shit you have brewing in that pretty little head of yours, I suggest you stop now. Because trust me, baby. IT. ISN’T. GOING. TO. WORK. My dear ole brother is as good as dead, bitch.”

Oh God, no. It all hits me at once. It doesn’t matter what I do or say, or if I help him get whatever it is he wants. They’re going to kill Turner anyway.

“You take me to Turner first.”

My voice never wavers or shows any sign that I am scared out of my ever-loving mind. Trent throws his head back and laughs in the most sinister way.

              “That has to be the funniest damn thing I have ever heard. You see, Clove? I knew all along that you knew who I was, so don’t try and play me for a fucking fool. You will get me what I need or I will call dear old dad. Or, better yet, I will take all kinds of pictures of you spread out nice and naked and ready for me to fuck, and send them to your precious Turner so that the last thing he will see before he dies is me fucking his wife.”

              “Good God! What kind of life did you live that you have so much hatred inside of you for a man who would have given anything to have a brother?”

              “SHUT THE HELL UP. You know nothing about me or my life. As for my brother, I could give two fucks about him. You, on the other hand, are the best fucking piece of ass I have ever had. Trust me on this, babe. I am going to have you over and over again, whether it be right in front of my brother, or when I have you tied up and gagged. Either way I am going to get one more sweet taste of that creamy pussy of yours.”

He rakes his eyes down my body until they land right at my core, making me feel naked and exposed.

“I am curious about one thing, though.”

He lifts his brows with a shit-eating smirk on his face.

              “Why did you let me fuck you when you knew exactly who I was?”

He tilts his head to the side with a look that says, lie to me, bitch, and see what happens.

              “You know damned well why! It made me sick having you put your filthy hands on me. You repulse me.”

His laugh echoes.

              “That’s not what this sexy body of yours said every time my cock was buried deep inside of you. You enjoyed every minute of it. I must say you have the sweetest tasting pussy I have ever had, and so responsive, too. I bet my brother doesn’t fuck you like that, does he?”

He observes me, waiting on my answer unspeaking and motionless. I am not going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know anything more about Turner and me than I have to.

“You’re fucking crazy,” I sneer at him.

              “Oh, baby I know I am. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

His words sting. They sting even worse than the blow I took. I need to think. I hope I can stall him. I’m praying like hell that when I don’t show up at Zack’s house within the half hour I promised and he doesn’t hear from me, he will know something is wrong and be over here in minutes.