Apparently, they were also staying at the motel. There was no sign of James Johnson or any of his legal team.A waitress took our drink orders; bourbon...and coke for me and red wine for Anna.We sat together and started talking, discussing our situation and our feelings. One drink led to two, and two led to three. It started getting late. I couldn’t believe that I had spent almost five hours talking to my, should-have-been ex-wife.I wanted to go home but knew I’d had too much to drink to safely. I feel him rearranging my hair and makingsure that none of it is trapped under the rope. I can feel theprickliness of the hemp, it tickles as he adjusts the fit onto thehooks, and I feel him tighten it slightly. I feel him grab me by myshoulders and rotate me round into position on the cart. He fiddles forwhat seems like ages, making sure the noose is in place and secure. Istand there, waiting, revelling in the sensations that so many ultratight bonds are having. Eventually he stops, and I hear. More

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