Page 124 of Adam
He grabs her by the throat and lifts her off the ground like she weighs nothing.
“How much is she worth?” he snarls. “Huh?”
“What are you doing?—”
“Tell me,” he roars, cutting me off, fingers tightening until her face darkens. “How much is she fucking worth to you?”
My stomach turns. This isn’t him. Or maybe it is, and I’ve just never seen this part before. His face is twisted with something feral and unrestrained, his eyes wild and furious. I’m terrified, not just of what he’s doing, but of what he’s become.
I’m terrified to realize how little control he has left.
“I-it was his idea,” she gasps, her voice thin, like the air isn’t reaching her lungs anymore. “I-it’s just … business.”
His jaw clenches at that, his grip tightening even more.
“You fucking bitch,” he hisses, his hands shaking vehemently.
It happens so fast my mind can’t keep up. His hands twist, and there’s this sound—this small and disgusting sound—before he throws her to the ground.
“Mother!” I scream, the word tearing out of me as my heart slams violently against my ribs.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m suspended between fear and disbelief, staring at her broken body on the floor.
He killed her.
He snapped her neck like it was nothing more than a reflex.
I don’t hear the sirens anymore. All that’s left is the sound of my own heart, pounding so loudly it fills my head.
“What did you do?” I ask. My eyes burn as tears spill over.
I can’t look away from her body. I don’t think I ever will.
Numbness creeps in and takes over, hollowing me out, shutting something off inside my head.
“I’m setting you free,” he says.
His fingers close possessively around my wrist again, and I don’t have the strength to pull away—even as I realize that whatever he’s done, whatever he thinks this is, there’s no freedom left for me at all.
My mind empties out. What’s left comes in flashes that won’t stay still—shouting, the crack of gunfire, a hand clamped around my wrist, dragging me forward.
Then the bike—one of my father’s—the engine screaming as we tear away from the mansion.
Father’s men follow close behind us, but Adam rides fast and doesn’t slow down.
We cut through narrow roads and filthy neighborhoods, places I don’t recognize, twisting and doubling back until, somehow, we finally lose them.
That’s when the questions start clawing their way through the numbness.
These sickening thoughts I should have had long ago.
What just happened?
Did he kidnap me? Or did I go with him without really fighting it? I try to remember if I screamed, if I resisted, if I told him no. I can’t tell anymore.
All I know is that I’m here. With him.
And I don’t understand why—why I’m not gone, why I didn’t run, why some part of me feels like this was inevitable.
