Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
That was the call when I left the Moretti house. My brother had taken a turn for the worse. It’s time to decide what’s next. Seth did have a plan in place. When he was diagnosed and still lucid, mostly, he made a plan.
And I made a promise.
I just can’t bring myself to do it. Me, the Reaper. Bringer of death. I can’t bring death to him, not even if it’s a mercy. Not even if it’s what he wanted. Not yet.
But I know one thing for sure. No matter what. The Trevino line will end with me.
13
ALLEGRA
When I wake up after a restless sleep, Cassian’s side of the bed is empty and untouched. I know I shouldn’t care, but something twists in my belly at the thought of his not being here. He regrets what he did. What we did. And maybe I do too. Hell, I should.
Being with him, what we did, it felt like everything and nothing at once. Like it was so fragile that it could vanish in an instant. Evaporate like smoke. And I guess it has, but the problem is not quite that, but the fact that I care. That I am upset by it.
I hate this man. I am nothing to him, but collateral, a thing to hold on to until my brother repays a debt. Of course, Cassian made an assumption in taking me. He assumed I’m valuable to Michael. I’m not so sure of that. And if he can’t or won’t repay what he owes, which according to Cassian he won’t be able to, I’ll be the one to pay. I only have two currencies. My skin and my life.
We’ve danced this dance before.
The memory of him telling Malek that makes me shiver. A sacrifice was made. An innocent punished.
I will be that innocent.
I feel the soreness between my legs when I push the covers off and sit up. I look down at the blood staining the sheets, the blood that’s dried on my thighs. I get out of the bed and strip the sheet off. I don’t know why I do it or what I’m going to do with the bloody evidence of what we did, but I can’t just leave them on the bed, so I carry them into the bathroom and shove them in the hamper.
After locking the door, I switch on the shower. With the temperature as hot as possible, I step beneath the flow. I use his shampoo and soap. I didn’t bring mine with me since I won’t be staying more than a week. That’s when this deal is done, I guess, and either I go home or… Nope. Not thinking about that. But when I smell his scent in those bottles, I wish I’d brought my own because that smell conjures up all kinds of memories I don’t want. So, I hurry and when I’m finished, I dry off and listen at the bathroom door to make sure he’s not back before slipping back into the bedroom. I put on my clothes and brush out my hair. I open my makeup bag to moisturize and I see the compact which contains my birth control pills. I take it out and open it, trying to think of what day it is.
I am, no, I was a virgin. I’ve never had boyfriends. Crushes and minor flirtations, maybe, but it’s just never been a part of my life. I’ve been taking the pill regularly for years to manage painful periods, not because there’s any possibility I might have sex.
Although I attended a private school in town through middle school, at fifteen, my dad pulled me out. After what happened, the kidnapping, my mom, he decided it’d be best if I was homeschooled, and I didn’t disagree. After what I witnessed, what I fell victim to, I was afraid of my own shadow for a long, long time. I didn’t want to leave the house then. Some days, I couldn’t leave my room. It was my mom who’d insisted on us having normal lives. Who pushed until my father relented and allowed us to go to a normal school with normal kids. I know now it was naïve of her to think we could be anything resembling normal.
I was home-schooled through high school and closely guarded when I started college. Most of my classes I was able to take online, but there were several that required me to be in class. My father had a driver as well as two soldiers who brought me to and from school, waiting on site in case anything went wrong or if I panicked. I’m not great in public settings especially outside my house.
Since my father’s death, I haven’t attended any classes that aren’t offered online. Michael doesn’t allow me to, and I don’t fight him. There’s a part of me that will always be afraid of what’s out there. Hell, I’m reminded every time I look down at my hand and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m scared.