POSSESSION
Chapter 1
Emma
I walked through the house; the sound of the hallway clock chiming told me that I had slept in this morning. It had been four days since I had come here with Noah and officially became part of his family. The older couple had not asked any questions, and for that, I was grateful. I hadn’t lied to Gertie when I said that they were in danger. I didn’t know what Artem would do to me or anyone that had helped me escape his clutches.
Heck, I didn’t even know if Artem would be coming after me. Some nights, I lay awake in bed, thinking of his handsome, dangerous profile and wondering if this escape might have been my last. Maybe he thought I was too much, that I disrupted his life constantly, and he was going to let me go.
Somehow, I didn’t think that was my husband’s style.
Most of all, I missed him. It was crazy to think I missed my captor, but I did. I missed his infrequent visits to my room, his quiet nature making me want to dive into what really drove Artem to be the man he was. I really didn’t know a lot about my husband at all. If I had, then I might have stayed longer.
That is, until I could find a way back home.
I was so close. There was nothing stopping me from picking up the house phone and calling my parents or my brother, telling them where I was and going back to the life I knew.
But I hadn’t, and I wasn’t so sure why.
I really needed my head examined, apparently.
Gertie was sitting at the kitchen table when I entered, a cup of coffee before her as she looked at the newspaper in her hand. “Good morning. There’s coffee in the pot over there.”
“Thanks,” I told her, crossing the kitchen and pouring a steaming cup to chase off the chill of the morning. More snow had fallen last night, and from the kitchen window above the sink, I could see nothing but glistening, unblemished snow all the way to the tree line. When Harvey and I were little, we enjoyed fresh snow, running out sometimes in our pajamas to make the perfect snow angels before the snow was disturbed. It would drive Mom crazy, but even through our teens we still maintained the silly tradition.
Now I wished I had done it more as an adult.
Holding the coffee to my lips, I blew at the steam, forcing myself to think of something else.
I was safe.
I was out of Artem’s control, and therefore he couldn’t control my father.
I was alive and handling things on my own, even if I wasn’t in the best position in terms of money or ability to get home.
I just had to hold on and figure things out. I would give myself another day to rest, to enjoy the solitude I had found here with Noah and Gertie, before I would dial my brother’s number and beg him to come get me.
Then we could figure out how to make Artem pay for what he had done to our family.
The very thought of my husband behind bars didn’t sit well with me. I fought the battle warring in my heart about what to do about Artem once I was free and clear of his clutches and back home, where I belonged.
I sipped my coffee, debating on which room we would tackle today in Gertie’s cleaning. The simple life that Noah and Gertie had was the one that I wanted for myself and my husband.
Not Artem, mind you. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who lived simply. His mansion was bigger than my parents’, and those cars in his garage were not your run-of-the-mill, everyday cars. Somehow, I couldn’t see him kissing his wife every morning before he set out to do actual work or laughing with her in the kitchen as they prepared a meal at night. That was what I had seen Noah and Gertie do together, and my heart twisted every time I watched them interact with each other.
That was what I wanted. I wanted to feel that love, to know that someone loved me just as much and couldn’t wait to be in my presence.
I hated that I sounded like a broken record to myself, but the longer I was in this position, married to a man who had done it out of spite, the clearer what I needed was coming to light.
What if I wasn’t as happy as I thought I was in my former life?
“You look deep in thought. Thinking about that man again?”
I turned to Gertie, giving her a tired smile. “No.”
She grinned. “Of course you aren’t, and I am gonna get a facelift this year. You know it’s not wrong to like your husband.”
I sighed. “It’s completely wrong to do so. There are things about him.”
“That you like,” she answered for me. “Face it, dearie; there’s just something about that man that turns you right-side-out.”
I smirked. If she only knew how many times Artem had turned me on my head. He had done things to me that, well, no one else had.
He had pissed me off, but he had also forced me to be strong. I had found out more about myself in Artem’s presence than I ever had. “But he’s all wrong for me. We can’t be together. He’s hurt me.”
She arched a brow. “Has he really? I see a tough woman in front of me. I’m not saying I condone anything he has done to you, Emma, but I’m just saying to think about what he’s really done.”
What had Artem really done to me? Well, he had kidnapped me, forced me into marriage, and nearly gotten me killed.
Okay, I had nearly gotten me killed by trying to run away from him, but if he hadn’t taken me in the first place, then I wouldn’t have been in that situation.
Those things, I wasn’t sure if they would be forgivable, really. Artem would have to do something spectacular to have me turn around and start to trust him. Sex wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, not for me.
Besides, I didn’t know if he was even interested. Sure, I had seen him that one time (though that was still up for debate), but he hadn’t come after me.
The phone on the wall rang suddenly, and Gertie pushed up from her chair to get it, lifting the phone off the receiver. “Hello?”
I watched as her facial expression changed and she darted her eyes toward me. “Um, yeah, she’s here. Hang on.” She then held out the phone toward me. “It’s for you.”
I nearly dropped the mug I was holding, placing it carefully on the counter with my trembling hands. “Who is it?”
Gertie shrugged. “I’m not sure, but they asked for you by name, sweetie. Maybe it’s that husband of yours.”
I wiped my sweating palms on my jeans as I crossed the room and took the phone from her. What would I say to Artem? More importantly, what was he going to say to me? Was he going to ask for me to come back, or was he going to give me a heads-up that he was coming to get me himself?
I so wasn’t ready for this! “This is Emma.”