Groggy and confused, Callie opened her eyes and saw a familiar room. In front of her, next to the front door, was the clock she’d bought two months ago to cover yet another hole in the wall; to her right was the couch and to her left the kitchen.

Callie’s head hurt something awful, and so did her jaw. She tried to move it a little, but it hurt like hell.

The sharp pain cleared the fog in her head enough for her to realize she was tied up to a chair. Duct tape secured each wrist to an armrest, her torso to the back of the chair, her calves to its legs, and her thighs to its seat. It was one of the stacking chairs they kept in the garage for when Shawn invited his buddies from work to watch a football game. The frame was aluminum. Unbreakable.

She was going to die in that chair. Shawn was going to kill her.

How had he found her? She and Brundar had been so careful.

“You’re awake. Good. I want you to watch me kill your boyfriend.”

Shawn entered the living room with another chair and put it down right next to her. He then walked over to the coffee table and picked up two handguns. Taking a seat, he had one gun loosely gripped in his hand, the other on his lap.

“Are you comfortable?” He wasn’t expecting a response. “You should thank me for arranging a front row seat for you. You’re not going to miss a thing. I hope his blood sprays your tits, same way you’ve let his come do.”

He looked crazed, but his tone was calm as if he was talking about the weather, which was much more worrisome than if he was shouting and raging. She’d never seen him like that before. The hatred, the cruelty, had turned his handsome face into a monstrous mask. Or had the face he’d shown her before been the mask, and this was his real one?

She’d married a monster.

Cold sweat trickled down Callie’s back. Her life was forfeit, but she wouldn’t let Brundar sacrifice his on her behalf. She was going to lie and plead like her life depended on it, even though she had a feeling nothing was going to save her.

“What boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

Calmly, as if he was swatting a fly, Shawn backhanded her. Pain exploded in her cheek, stars blinking behind her tears.

“Don’t lie to me, bitch. Your fucking elf lover is going to come for you, and I’m going to shoot first and ask questions later. I’m not going to give him a chance to hypnotize me again.”

She had no idea what he was talking about but was afraid to say so. He was obviously delusional. There was something in the elf reference, but not the one about Brundar hypnotizing him.

“You’re such a stupid cunt, Callie. You could’ve lived like a queen. I was saving up for us to move to a nicer place. You think what I put in our joint account was all the money I made? Just shows how stupid you are. I would have never put all my money where you could put your grubby little hands on it. I have hundreds of thousands stashed in different bank accounts. Accounts no fucking divorce lawyer could’ve found, so don’t you get any ideas.”

Did it mean he wasn’t planning on killing her? A dead woman couldn’t contact a divorce lawyer.

“If you were just a little more agreeable as a wife, you could have had everything a woman could want. But no, you had to argue about every goddamned thing instead of listening to your husband. Your older and much smarter husband.”

Delusional indeed.

As if she’d argued about anything. Throughout their marriage, Shawn had treated her as his personal maid, expecting her to do all the cooking and the cleaning and the picking up after him even though she worked too and put all of her money into their joint account, not just a small portion of it like he had done.

But there was no sense in arguing the point with a madman. He would just hit her again, and she was already in so much pain she was fighting to stay awake and not to black out.

He turned to her. “What did you lack? Were you embarrassed about being married to a car salesman? Just so you know, I got a new job.” He smiled evilly. “A very well-paying managerial job. I’m the top guy and what I say goes. They chose me because I’m a natural born leader. But only my whoring cunt of a wife couldn’t see it!”

He lifted his hand again, and Callie flinched, expecting a blow, but it didn’t come. His hand was gentle as he cupped her bruised cheek. “You were so young. Maybe if I slapped you around from the start, taught you to obey, none of this would have happened.” He waved the gun between them.

He slapped her then, lightly, but it was over the big bruise he’d left before, and the pain was too much for Callie to keep the tears from leaking.

Shawn wiped her tears with his thumb. “I like this look on you. Beaten and defeated. You’d better get used to it because you’ll be wearing it every goddamned day until the day you die.”