EVELYN
Pain bloomed where his hand had landed, the shock of it making my breath hitch. My healing nipples throbbed in protest, but I bit down the reaction, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“Where are the rings?” he demanded.
I hesitated, and then another slap landed on my nipple.
“Where?” His voice sharpened.
“They… they’re inside my drawer. The lower one,” I stammered.
He moved away from me instantly, toward the dresser. My heart pounded against my ribs as I silently prayed he wouldn’t find them.
But of course, he did.
He held them up, the two small rings with pink hearts gleaming mockingly between his fingers. His lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile, just possession.
He fastened them hurriedly, his fingers working as though the metal was burning him as if he couldn’t stand the idea of me being without them for another second.
And I lay there, silently, knowing that this was just another wound that would never fully heal.
I closed my eyes giving up.
