Chapter 112
Maya's POV:
Adam finished his cigarette. He tossed it out and started the car. We didn't speak. The silence was thick, filled with unprocessed anger and adrenaline.
He pulled over abruptly in front of a CVS pharmacy.
"Get out," he said.
I gripped the door handle. "Why?"
"Condoms."
My face burned hot. "You're crazy. I am not going in there."
He didn't argue. He just walked around to my side, opened the door, and pried my fingers off the handle one by one. He grabbed my wrist. He dragged me toward the sliding doors.
I dug my heels into the sidewalk. "Adam, stop. You go. I’m a girl. I’m shy. I can’t do this."
He looked down at me with a smirk. "No. I’m afraid you’ll run."
"I won't run," I promised, widening my eyes. "I’ll wait right here."
"Little liar," he scoffed. "You have a record. I don't believe a word you say."
He pulled me inside. The lights were bright and harsh. Two girls by the magazine rack looked up. Their eyes went wide.
"Wow," one whispered. "He's so handsome."
I rolled my eyes. Handsome? Try psychopath. I had been fooled by that face once too. The only good thing Adam ever gave me was Amy. She had his eyes, but thankfully, she had my heart.
Adam ignored everyone. He walked straight to the aisle. He found the box he wanted. Then he swept his arm across the shelf. He grabbed every single box.
My jaw dropped. "Adam," I hissed. "Leave some for other people."
He looked at me seriously. "Why? I’m not sure this is enough. I should ask the cashier if they have more in the back."
Panic spiked in my chest. He would do it. He had no shame.
I snatched the boxes from his arms. "Give them to me!"
I hugged the stack to my chest and marched to the register. I paid as fast as I could. I didn't look at the cashier. I turned and speed-walked out of the store.
"Why are you running?" Adam called out behind me. "Is a ghost chasing you?"
I shoved the boxes into his chest. "Hold these!"
He caught them easily. "You didn't get a bag? This is inconvenient."
I ignored him. I scanned the street for a taxi. I just wanted to go home. Alone.
Adam wasn't having it. He tossed the boxes into the back seat. He grabbed my waist and tossed me into the passenger seat. He slammed the door and locked it instantly.
The car roared onto the road. I grabbed the handle above the door.
"Adam Sterling! Slow down! You are a lunatic!"
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "I'm in a hurry."
I looked out the window. This wasn't the way to Somerville. "Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere with a bigger bed," he said. "A sturdier bed. Somewhere we won't be interrupted."
"I'm not going! I want to go home!"
He smiled, a dark, possessive curve of his lips. "Maya, this is the way home. Our home."
He pulled up to a brownstone on Marlborough Street. It was grand and intimidating. He killed the engine, grabbed two boxes from the back, and shoved them into his pocket. He dragged me out of the car.
We stopped at the heavy front door. He lifted his thumb and pressed it against the sensor.
Beep.
The lock clicked open.
I stared at the panel. I knew it. He had kept a trick up his sleeve. He had already recorded his fingerprint into the system. If I ever moved in here, he would have free access. He could come and go whenever he wanted.
Before I could speak, he threw me over his shoulder. He kicked the door shut with a loud bang. My heart jumped.
I pounded on his back. "Put me down! You psycho!"
He slapped my butt. Not hard, but firm. "Behave."
My face went scarlet. "Adam! Put me down!"
He slapped me again. "Stop yelling. Save your voice. You’ll need it later."
He carried me up the stairs, two at a time. He marched into the master bedroom and threw me onto the bed. I bounced on the mattress.
He was on top of me instantly.
"You used to complain," he murmured near my ear. "You said the rental mattress was too hard. You wanted a soft one. How is this? I picked it myself."
My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned my head away. The room was dark, lit only by moonlight.
"Adam," I whispered. "You're heavy. Get off."
He didn't get off. He shifted, pulling me on top of him. "Is this better?"
I tried to scramble away. His hand tangled in my hair. His other hand pressed into my lower back. He pulled me down. He kissed me.
It was precise. It was hungry.
I stopped fighting. My mind told me to run. My mind told me he was dangerous. But my body didn't care. It remembered him. It missed him.
I gave up. I melted into him.
It had been five years. The tension was too high. Adam was shaking. I was shaking. It was frantic and uncoordinated.
And then, it was over. Just like that.
I stared up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening.
"Adam," I said, my voice cutting through the dark. "Are you rusty?"
He stiffened. I felt the tension seize his entire body. It was a direct hit to his ego.
"That was an accident," he said quickly. His voice was defensive. "I was excited. It’s been a long time. We are doing it again."
I groaned. I grabbed the duvet and rolled away, wrapping myself up tight. "No! I want to sleep!"
"Maya..." He tugged at the blanket. His tone was pleading now.
I turned my back to him. "Get out."
He didn't leave. He slid under the covers from the bottom of the bed.
"Adam! Go away!"
"It's still early," he whispered, his hands finding my waist. "And I have plenty of energy left."
I was wrong. He wasn't broken.
The rest of the night was a blur. He was like a starving animal. He was relentless. He flipped me over. He pulled me close. He didn't stop until I lost my voice.
The next morning, a phone rang.
It was loud and jarring in the quiet room. I groaned. I didn't want to move. I reached out blindly, slapping the nightstand.
Adam grabbed my phone, swiped the screen, and pressed it to my ear.
"Mommy!"
The voice was sweet and chirpy. Amy.
I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my brain. "Baby. Good morning."
There was a pause on the line.
"Mommy," Amy asked, her voice turning worried. "Are you sick?"
I cleared my throat. "No, sweetie. Why?"
"You sound funny."
I felt Adam’s chest vibrate against my back. He was laughing silently. I kicked him under the covers.