“Nothing, I was just making sure I’m understood,” I tell her and grab her by the waist before turning away from Carter. Esmeray is snatched away from me, and when I look over my shoulders, Carter has his dirty fingers around her small arm. All I see is red and simply forget about not being the violent type for a second. No one touches my wife like that—like she’s an object, something that has to obey—not even me.
