Page 72 of Micah
All I care about is being a better man for Holly. Not that she gives a single shit about how I speak. The way she holds my hand and smiles at me when we’re out in public makes me feel like the luckiest man on the planet, knowing she’s happy, proud even, to be with me whether I sign or speak.
If I’m honest, I’m going for me. Because I hate taking my hands off her in bed to talk to her. This way, I can have my cake, and eat her too.
Reaching out, she brushes her thumb over my eyebrow. “We’ll be in and out of there in no time. Then we’ll go home and snuggle up.”
I’m lost imagining snuggling up with her, when her words finally penetrate. “We…I’m going…in?”
“Yes,” she says with a gentle smile. “I want you with me…but I’m doing all the talking. Your job is to stand off to the side a bit and look scary. Is that ok?”
I rub my hands together gleefully and smile. “I am…scary.” I know exactly how to be the menacing guy in the corner. I haven’t had to do it in a while, but it’ll all come back to me, I have no doubt.
She presses a laughing kiss to my lips, then exits out of the car. A growl slips out of me when she doesn’t let me get her door. Her giggles chase the grump away. She’s not afraid of me, not even a little bit, and I thank whatever God is up there for that.
Ransom made the same arrangements as last time, so Brent is chained to the table when I walk into the room. The cast is off, but I can see a brace on his leg. The fresh bruising and cuts on his face sends a wave of satisfaction through me. His eyes widen when he recognizes me, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his nervousness. I make sure my face shows all the rage in my body when I look at him, all the painful things I want to do to him.
“Why…why are you here? I did what you asked. I’ve been following the rules.” He stammers nervously.
I bare my teeth at him, then move aside to let Holly into the room. She’s a whole fucking rainbow in this drab beige room. She looks like a fifties pin up girl. Her calendar would have been on every garage wall in the fucking country, guaranteed.
Her dress is snug on her beautiful curves, emphasizing her small waist and luscious round hips. I watch Brent as she walks in the room, and I see exactly what I knew I would. Lust, obsession, greed. He wants her so fucking bad, and seeing her here, looking so beautiful, is killing him. He masks his reaction, but not well.
Sliding a sneer over his face, he sits back in his chair, eyes trailing over her. “Haven’t lost that weight, have you, Hannah? Fucking cow.” He smiles meanly at her, waiting for his words to damage her, but she smiles serenely.
I, on the other hand, take a big step closer, baring my teeth at him, satisfied when he shrinks back into the chair.
Holly’s shoulder brushes mine as she slides her hair back, exposing her neck. She meets my eyes and gently taps her index finger on the side, tilting her head slightly.
She knows she’s got me wrapped around her finger. Not even Brent’s presence would stop me from obeying that silent command. I step back, sliding in behind her, letting my hands slide around her waist as I bring my mouth to her neck, pressing a slow, reverent kiss there. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek as I nuzzle her.
“I love you,” she says, her voice thick and low.
“Love you…more,” I mutter, taking one last taste before letting her go, backing up one step. This is her show. The sooner she gets done, the faster I can get her home and under me.
I almost break character when I see Brent’s face. He looks like he just got slapped by a twelve-inch-cock. Holly’s tinkling laugh fills the room. “You stupid fuck. As you can see, I traded way up. He worships every inch of my body. So tell me, Brent, why the hell do you think your words mean anything to me?”
I fucking love it when she swears. She’s been shaking off the remnants of her past, having fun trying out different swear words. Fuck is one of her favourites. I mean, how can it not be? She’s surrounded by a bunch of foul-mouthed guys who use it as a verb, noun and adjective.
Brent’s rage ignites as he stands, yanking on the cuffs. He howls as he puts pressure on his knee and he falls back into the chair. “I fucking own you, you cunt. You’re my wife. He doesn’t have any right to put his fucking hands on you. I fucking taught you better.”
Spit is flying as he rages. Holly’s still standing well back, watching him with a cocked head. She doesn’t seem bothered in the least. She’s a whole lot stronger than I am. Because I’m really fucking bothered. I’m ready to destroy him.
He winds down as he realizes that instead of looking hurt and broken by his words, she just looks bored. Lifting her hand, she studies her red manicured fingers. My request. I love watching those red nails trail over my skin, and she’s more than happy to oblige.
“You done?” she asks in a bored tone.
He ignites again, but I’m not listening to a word he’s saying, because my girl’s turned to grin at me. She’s fucking having fun. I grin back at her then slide my mean mug back on, moving back two steps to lean on the wall so they’re both in profile. She’s fucking got this, and I want to watch the show.
Finally he winds down, for the first time looking…lost.
“Well,” Holly says, “now that you’ve finished your little tantrum, let’s get down to business, shall we?” She pulls the yellow envelope out from under her arm. “I’m here to present you with two options, Brent. It will be up to you to choose one. Either way will end in divorce. That’s non-negotiable. The only choice you have is in how poor I leave you.”
Brent laughs in disbelief. “You’re crazy. I already told you I’m not signing anything.”
“Not signing is one option. Here’s how that will go. I’ll liquidate every single thing you own. The cars, the house, your investment accounts. Everything. Then, I’ll go before a judge and get a divorce judgment.”
“You can’t fucking do that. I have to sign to divorce you and I’m not doing it.” He says smugly. “And you can’t fucking touch anything. Your name isn’t on anything.”
“You’re so stupid.” She mutters, her lip curling. “Of course I can divorce you. My lawyer already has the paperwork drawn up. As for the rest?” Opening up her envelope, she pulls out a stack of papers, placing most of them down one by one. “The car title, my name on it. House? My name too. Investment accounts? Yep, you guessed it. My name. I have the power to liquidate everything.”
