Jason noticed the change before Loraine realized she had made one.
Her smiles were too careful.
Her obedience came too quickly.
Her eyes were empty when she said his name.
He watched her from doorways, from mirrors, from the corners of rooms. He didn't accuse her—not yet. Jason was patient when he was planning.
"You've been good," he said one evening, brushing his thumb over the fading bruise on her wrist. His touch lingered too long. "I like this version of you."
Her stomach twisted. "I'm trying."
"I know," he said softly. "But don't try too hard."
The Body Tells the Truth
Her body was betraying her.
The stress made her weak. The bruises darkened instead of fading. Her ribs ached where he had shoved her during an argument days ago. At night, she slept curled tightly, protecting herself even when he wasn't touching her.
Jason noticed that too.
"You flinch," he said one morning. "Why?"
"I'm sore."
"From me?"
She hesitated.
That hesitation earned her a sharp shove backward. She hit the edge of the table with a cry, pain exploding through her side.
Jason froze.
"Oh no," he muttered. "No—mine—I didn't—"
She slid to the floor, gasping.
He knelt immediately, hands hovering but not touching. "I swear I didn't mean that. You move so suddenly. You scare me."
She laughed weakly through tears.
I scare you.
Refusal Again
That night, he tried once more.
She shook her head before he even touched her.
"No."
The word tasted dangerous.
Jason's jaw tightened. "You're doing this again."
"I'm in pain," she said honestly. "Please."
He stared at her for a long moment, breathing hard. Then he stood.
"You'll regret this," he said quietly.
He slept on the couch.
She didn't sleep at all.
Control Becomes a Cage
The next day, the rules changed.
No garden.
No balcony.
No unsupervised movement.
The guards followed her even inside the house.
"Is this really necessary?" she asked softly.
Jason smiled. "You've been restless."
Food became smaller portions. Her phone disappeared again. Doors locked faster.
"You're not ready for freedom," he told her gently. "You still think about leaving."
Her heart raced.
He knew.
The Escape Attempt
She waited until night.
A storm covered the sound of her footsteps. The guards shifted positions during rain—she had learned that much. She moved quietly, barefoot, heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would give her away.
She reached the side door.
Unlocked.
Hope burst painfully in her chest.
She stepped outside.
Cold air hit her skin.
One step.
Two.
Then—
Hands grabbed her from behind.
She screamed.
Jason slammed her against the wall, rain soaking them both. His face was unrecognizable—rage, fear, obsession tangled together.
"I felt it," he snarled. "The moment you decided to run."
"I just wanted air!" she cried.
He slapped her.
The sound was swallowed by thunder.
"You were leaving," he shouted. "After everything!"
She tried to run.
He caught her easily, throwing her to the ground. She cried out as pain tore through her already bruised side.
He loomed over her, chest heaving.
"You promised," he hissed. "You promised you'd never leave."
"I was lying," she sobbed.
That broke him.
Aftermath
He dragged her back inside and locked the bedroom door.
Not the small room.
This time, he stayed.
He paced. Shouted. Cried. Apologized.
"I don't want to be like this," he said desperately. "But you keep pushing me. You keep trying to leave."
She lay curled on the bed, shaking, every part of her aching.
"You're hurting me," she whispered again.
Jason sank beside her, face buried in his hands.
"I know," he said hoarsely. "And I hate myself for it."
But when he looked up, his eyes were dark.
"And I'll do it again if I have to."
Questions That No Longer Whisper
How much longer can her body survive this?
If Jason can sense her thoughts, can she ever escape?
Will refusing him push him to something worse?
And when the next chance comes—
will she run again… or will fear finally win?