Page 46 of Ruthless Salvation

Terror seized hold of me in a way I’d never experienced. I tugged at his fingers and mouthed the word, “Please,” over and over and over. But it was no use.

The demon inside him had control with no plans of letting go.

My lungs felt drenched in hot oil. Black dots spotted my vision, growing larger by the second until I could barely see.

This was it.

This was how I died.

I knew it with a certainty as strength fled my muscles, then I was in the air, flying. I’d welcomed the hereafter, except instead of a bright light, there was only pain. My body crashed against something impossibly hard, then darkness.

* * *

I didn’t knowwhat was worse, waking up to an excruciating headache or having the man who’d caused it hold me tenderly in his arms. I didn’t want to face him—to face my situation. I cursed my luck for not hitting my head hard enough such that I didn’t remember what had happened.

Forgetting would have been so much easier. But I did remember, and there would be no forgetting anymore.

What on earth was I supposed to do? The question alone made my head pulse. My body tensed against the pain, alerting him to the fact that I had woken.

“Moya milaya Alina, I am so very sorry.”

My body shook with uncontrollable sobs.

“You have to understand how much you hurt me. I cannot stand the thought of you leaving me.” His words intensified my sobs, which tightened the vise around my skull. Nausea churned up a riotous storm in my stomach.

“Oh God.” I clamped a hand over my mouth and wriggled out from his hold.

He reluctantly allowed me to scurry away, and I made it to the bathroom just in time. Over and over, I heaved into the cold porcelain toilet.

Damyon was there in an instant, holding my hair back and murmuring soothing words as he rubbed my back.

My Damyon was back—the Damyon I’d fallen in love with—but there was no comfort in it. Not this time. The flip of the coin from one persona to the other only made me feel worse. Betrayed. How could someone so kind and compassionate be such a monster? How could a man claim he loved someone, then hurt them so vindictively?

It wasn’t right. Something inside him was broken beyond repair.

“You hit your head pretty good.”

I didn’t hit my head. You slammed me against a wall. There’s a difference.

I nodded, knowing I could never say the words aloud.

“Sometimes a bump on the head will do this. I will have the doctor come by just to be safe.”

I felt the tiniest modicum of comfort. His doctor was old but kind. I’d seen the man a couple of times to get my birth control shot renewed.

I peered down into the clear water of the freshly flushed toilet and stilled when another round of nausea roiled in my belly.

The nausea was from the headache, right? I couldn’t be…

As if in answer, an ache radiated from my right breast. They’d been extra sore lately, and my bras had seemed snug almost overnight.

Sweet Jesus, no.

I couldn’t be.

I’d had a shot only a month ago. My bleeding was irregular, but that was always the case with the shot.

Please, God above, let this reeling nausea simply be a concussion. Don’t let me bring a child into this mess.