Millie yanked her arm out of Tanner’s grip as they walked down the Jetway. She’d been resolutely mute on the flight from New York, despite his multiple attempts to engage her in conversation. It was as though they’d undergone a role reversal. She’d changed her approach, and so far, he’d changed his. But this was Tanner. His nicey-nicey attitude wouldn’t last long, and when he broke, she’d better be ready, because the backlash would be vicious.

Cole’s face played on a loop in her mind, sending crystal-clear pictures of his utter devastation when she’d left him sitting in that bar. God, was it only yesterday? His distress and anger sliced through her—the memories so raw, it felt like her brain had been pickled in acid. She’d chosen to present an outwardly cool and calm façade to Tanner, but she was screaming on the inside.

Despite the hurtful words they’d thrown at one another, Mille knew Cole. He was one of the most tenacious, determined people she’d ever met. Sure, the outer shell showed a chilled, relaxed guy who played the role of peacemaker in his family to perfection. But peel back the layers, and beneath was a passionate, strong-willed, forceful personality with an inclination to want to help people. Either her plan would work and she’d save herself, or Cole would find a way to save her. She refused to contemplate any other outcome.

She shot a sideways glance at Tanner. She hated him. Hated him, with every fiber of her being. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours fantasizing about stabbing him while he slept. She wouldn’t be able to carry out such violence, though, on another human being, not even Tanner.

The airport was heaving with people returning home from the holidays, and their luggage took a while to arrive. They both stood in silence, Tanner having clearly gotten the message she wasn’t up for talking. He might win the world series when it came to sulking, but she was learning fast. After all, she’d had a great teacher.

A half hour later, the taxi pulled up outside her former home. Millie waited for a tinge of nostalgia to hit her. There had been some good times here, at least in the very beginning. Instead, an overwhelming feeling of rage pulled at her stomach. She was trapped and out of control, and right then, she couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

Tanner unlocked the front door and dropped her suitcases in the hallway, then carried on into the tiny kitchen at the back. She closed the door with a quiet click and peered into the living room. The place looked untouched from when she’d left almost five months ago. She sat on the worn leather sofa, panic growing like an out-of-control weed. Tension locked her spine, and her breathing became shallow, rapid, her body urging her to flee. She drew in a lungful of air. Calm down. This is not your life. This is a temporary aberration. Closing her eyes, she pictured Cole, and gradually her heartbeat returned to normal.

Tanner waltzed in, swigging a beer from a bottle. He flopped into his usual chair, rearranged the cushion behind him, and grabbed the remote control.

“I’ll allow this mood you’ve got going on,” he said, his gaze on the TV, not her. “It’s been a long day, and we’re both tired, but tomorrow is a different story. So, get it out of your fucking system, because if you don’t greet me with a smile in the morning, you’ll find out just how mean I can be.”

Millie schooled her expression, her stare flat and cold, despite her irregular pulse. “Do your worst, Tanner. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“Maybe I’ve got a new trick or two up my sleeve. You want to take that risk, darling?”

He wouldn’t get a rise out of her. He could push and push, and she’d respond with apathy, boredom even. Let his scathing words bounce off her like raindrops on the ground during a heavy thunderstorm.

“Sticks and stones, Tanner,” she said, rising to her feet. She spun on her heel and left him sitting there with narrowed eyes and flaring nostrils while she grabbed her suitcases and hauled them upstairs. She paused outside her old bedroom, wishing she had a hundred razor blades she could tuck inside his sheets.

She slipped into the spare room. She had no idea what Tanner would do when he came upstairs and found she wasn’t in their bed, but surely, he couldn’t be so stupid as to think she’d sleep beside him? Still, best to err on the side of caution. She picked up a chair and wedged it underneath the handle. It wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to get inside, but at least it would give her some warning.

Her stomach growled painfully—she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and even then, barely—but hunger wasn’t a stranger. Tanner had often refused to give her money for food when he’d wanted to punish her. He’d come home after work with takeout and sit in front of her, licking his fingers as she looked on with a starved gaze.

She opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of pajamas. It wasn’t quite seven yet, but she may as well get some sleep. She’d need all her energy for the oncoming battle. Besides death and taxes, the only other certainty in her life was that she wouldn’t go down without a fight.