Chapter 2

"Ms. Winfield, I'm sorry."

"Mr. Barnes contacted me last night. He's already collected all of your psychological rehabilitation records on your behalf and completed the paperwork to terminate treatment."

My mind went blank, and I could barely make out what the doctor said next.

"He said… he said you've developed severe persecutory delusions and violent tendencies, and that you refuse all professional intervention."

"So he's decided to personally put you through a closed family therapy program, cutting you off from all outside influence."

I hung up the phone, my hands and feet ice cold.

He isn't trying to heal me. He's trying to destroy me.

He wants to turn me completely into a useless thing who can only cling to him, obey him, with no mind of my own.

I ripped the IV needle out of my hand and, ignoring the nurse trying to stop me, forced my body upright and rushed out of the clinic.

I caught a taxi in the dead of night and hurried back to the townhouse in the city where Alden and I lived.

As I pushed open that familiar door, a sense of dread instantly seized my heart.

The house was too quiet.

My "Kerry" was gone.

Kerry was my beloved dog, and also the emotional support dog that had gotten me through countless nights of falling apart.

He was so well-behaved, he never ran off.

"Kerry?"

I called his name in a panic.

In the living room, a huge black iron cage loomed right in front of me.

Inside the cage, my Kerry, with his sleek, glossy golden coat, was curled up in the corner, covered in blood, barely clinging to life.

Olive!

Dressed in a sexy leather jacket and leather pants, holding an electrified barbed whip, she was lashing Kerry in the cage with a look of pure delight.

"Bark! Aren't you so good at barking? You useless piece of trash!"

With each fall of the whip, Kerry let out a cry of pain.

The blood rushed to my head in an instant.

"Stop!"

I lunged forward like a woman gone mad, snatched the whip from Olive's hand, and with all my strength, whipped it backhand across her face.

"Ah!"

Olive shrieked and dropped to the floor, clutching her rapidly swelling face.

The study door on the second floor was kicked open with a bang.

Alden came striding down in his bathrobe.

The moment he saw Olive lying on the floor, he shoved me away hard without a word.

My back slammed into the glass coffee table in the living room.

The coffee table shattered with a crash.

Countless shards of glass drove into my flesh, and blood instantly stained my white T-shirt red.

"Naomi! What are you throwing a fit about?!"

Alden roared at me.

Ignoring the pain all over my body, I struggled up out of the broken glass, pointing at Kerry dying in the cage, my voice trembling.

"She's the one who's insane! Look what she did to Kerry!"

Only then did Alden glance at the cage, his tone flat.

"It's just a dog."

He helped the weeping Olive up and wiped away her tears.

Olive pointed at me, looking wronged. "Don't get the wrong idea. I saw Kerry was always so listless, and I thought maybe he was depressed too, so I wanted to help him with some desensitization therapy…"

"Did I mean well but make things worse? Alden, go comfort your girl."

Alden looked down at me coldly, his eyes on me like I was some unreasonable lunatic.

"You don't need this kind of trash to pin your feelings on, Naomi."

"In your world, the only one you can rely on is me."

"Olive's dogfighting ring has been short a live target for practice lately, and this golden retriever is just right. Call it putting trash to good use."

He spoke the cruelest words in the gentlest voice.

He walked up to me, crouched down, gripped my chin, and forced me to look at him.

"Kneel down."

"Apologize to Olive."

"Apologize, and I'll give the dog back to you."

I stared hard at him, at the face I had loved for five years, which now looked utterly unfamiliar.

His grip crushed my jaw until it ached, and I nearly ground my back teeth to pieces.

I looked at him, and then, slowly, I bent my knees.