Page 119 of Ruthless Sinner
With my thoughts scattered from the dream world rescinding from reality I look around the room, trying to establish where I am. The sight of the dark satin walls, the bed I’m in and then on the sunlight bleeding through the slivers of the half-drawn curtains offers reassurance. I’m in Dante’s room.
I see him next when he steps out of the shadows and stops by the window bay.
My heart rejoices the way it always does when I’m around him. But the elation is just for a fleeting second. My memory returns in the next few seconds and I recall what happened to me. What he did. And the lie he was to me.
He drugged me. He stopped me from leaving so I wouldn’t expose him.
I grip the sheets and my heart beats faster when I remember the message on his phone and the way he told me he couldn’t let me leave.
The urge to run again makes me swivel so my feet are on the ground, but there I freeze as it hits me that running is pointless. Running will only achieve the same thing it did before.
I’ve woken up from one nightmare, only to fall into another.
It’s not the first time that I’ve dreamed about Avery where I’m talking to her as if she’s still alive and thought her death was just a terrible dream.
Each time gets worse and it hurts on a level I can’t describe to anyone.
But this…
The truth about Dante is…
My brain and my heart refuse to comprehend it.
And whatisthe truth?
It’s not just that Matthew was right. There’s more I don’t know and need to find out.
Dressed in full black Dante suits the part he’s playing. The devil, the liar, the thief who stole my senses and tricked me into giving him my heart.
He’s staring at me, giving me flat emotionless look I’m not used to. It’s cold and ominous.Menacing.
I wish he would say something, but he isn’t and he’s looking at me as if he plans to do this stare off all day.
Day…
I switch my gaze from him to the clock on the wall. It’s two.
My God.I’ve been asleep for most of the day. Today is Saturday. D-Day.
Who knows what havoc is going on in the world outside while I’m here dealing with my own battles.
I look at him again and decide to speak. Maybe that’s what he wants—me to ask the questions.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were a monster were you?” My voice is hoarse and quivery as if someone is shaking it out of me.
“No.” He doesn’t even blink when he says that. “I wasn’t.”
His worlds are like a punch to my heart. My question was almost rhetorical. I didn’t expect an answer. I certainly didn’t expect that answer. A confirmation that he’s as dreadful as I think he is.
But I feel like this is him. The real him. The parts I felt I didn’t know. The parts he warned me about when he told me he wasn’t a good man and I refused to listen.
Why did I do that? The snake was telling me exactly what he was, but I still picked him up and all but placed him at my throat so he could bite me.
The intensity of his gaze amplifies the fear rising inside me, squeezing and twisting my insides into miniature knots. The feeling is telling me to be careful. Tread softly. Don’t piss him off. But I’m torn and I need the truth. I need to know what he’s going to do to my father.
I pray with everything inside me he hasn’t done something already. That message came through earlier. Anything could have happened during the hours I’ve been asleep.
“Have you hurt my father?” The low tone of my voice carries the weight of my fear.