Page 108 of The Harbinger
Confused, I sat up. “How do you know her name?”
“You spoke it earlier.”
“Oh.” I bobbed my head. “She keeps speaking to me. But this time, it’s like a broken record, and I can’t get it to stop.”
“Has that happened before—you hearing her voice?”
I nodded, swallowing the pained lump in my throat. “I’ve heard her since I was on the streets. I didn’t know who she was until recently.”
Sacha sat back in his chair, his comforting hand coming away from my back. “I’ve had people looking into it for you.”
I forced a smile. My entire being screamed to question him about the passport with my face on it, but that would mean admitting I’d gone into his office.
“Any luck?”
“None. You’re a ghost.”
I hung my head, and my heart hit my ribcage. So I really was alone in this world. I had nothing to my name, and God forbid I find something worth keeping. Which brought another question to my mind.
“Why shouldn’t I have named the cat?”
I’d have half a mind to blame Catherine, considering she’d upturned my garden again, making it the way she’d wanted, despite Sacha telling her it was mine. But she was just an old lady who wanted the garden her way. It didn’t mean she’d turned into a psycho killer and murdered an innocent animal.
“You placed ownership over it.” He tucked his finger under my chin and raised my gaze. “That makes you vulnerable. Who did you tell?”
How did naming a cat make me vulnerable? “Um…” Had I said something to Catherine? No, she’d been gone by that time. “Katya?” She’d help me get the kitten a box and warned me that I was making a mistake by taking him inside. “But she didn’t know his name.”
He frowned, and I winced. I’d just thrown Katya under the bus.
“She told me you wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t listen to her.” I rushed to her defense, stumbling over my words.
He glanced towards the doorway leading into the kitchen. His face relaxed, and the crease between his brow vanished. “She’s right.” He leaned back in his seat. “In this house, you own nothing, youarenothing. Do I make myself clear?”
Heat fired into my belly in a hot exchange of putrid bile and nausea. My fingers trembled as I pulled myself away from him.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
My chair skidded against the surface with a nail-biting screech, its premonitory sound casting silence into the air as I stood. My chest tightened when he stared at me as if daring me to make a scene, but when I returned his narrowed glare, a piece inside of me fell apart.
He’d used seductive words and sensual touches to get what he wanted, knowing exactly how to prey on my weaknesses. He’d wanted something from me, and instead of taking it with force, he coerced me with promises of things I’d desired. He was a master manipulator, and I’d fallen for it like a stone chasing the bottom of the lake.
“I’m not feeling so well.”
The excuse revolted in my throat, his cruel words ripping down my back.
Why was I so naive?
“Sit down.”
My gums ached with the need to escape.
The white powder in my drawer beckoned to me like a sweet-tongued devil, its seductive song luring me in and taking hold of my soul. It was as if I had become a marionette, and the powder the puppet master, pulling me towards the door with a relentless, irresistible force.
“I will not warn you again.”
My feet came to an abrupt halt, refusing to budge another inch. My heart raced against my chest, breaths coming in rapid gasps as if I were inhaling the stench of rotting flesh.
There was no escape from him. He relished the chase like a predator drooling over fresh prey. Either I would comply with his demand and take a seat, or I would be forced to endure his depraved mind set on infecting me with his lies once again.