Chapter 6 - The Grocery Store Ambush
I had to get out of the apartment. I needed milk, bread, and just ten minutes of normalcy. Claire offered to go, but I insisted. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't a prisoner.
I was in the dairy aisle at Meijer when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
"You're not returning my calls."
I spun around. Marcus was standing at the end of the aisle. He looked disheveled—on purpose, I realized. The tragic, abandoned husband routine.
"Stay away from me," I said, gripping the handle of my shopping cart so hard my knuckles turned white.
He closed the distance between us in three long strides, his eyes burning with that familiar, manic intensity. "You're making a fool out of me, Sarah. You come home right now, drop the bogus lawyer, and I might forgive you for this."
"I have a restraining order, Marcus," I said, my voice shaking. "You are violating it right now."
He laughed, a dark, ugly sound. He reached out and grabbed my upper arm, his fingers digging fiercely into my skin. "A piece of paper doesn't stop me. You are my wife."
"Hey! Let go of her!"
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A teenage boy stocking shelves two aisles down had rounded the corner, his phone held up, camera recording.
Marcus dropped my arm as if he’d been burned. He looked at the teenager, then at the camera, the realization hitting him like a freight train. Without another word, he turned and fled down the aisle.
