Page 59 of Darkest Sin

Everything hurts.

I sit in the back of Killian’s SUV—the only time I’ve ever been in it without him, and I’ve never felt so alone. His driver flies through the long, windy streets that lead back toward the city I once called home, and every inch of distance he puts between us shatters me just a little bit more.

I thought I’d found my forever. I thought we were going to build a life together, and after the conversation we had in the kitchen last night, I simply don’t understand what went wrong.

Waking up in his bed, I had the perfect vision of how our morning was supposed to go. We were going to spend hours wrapped in each other’s bodies while experiencing the sweetest pleasure this world could offer. We would have had breakfast in bed and ended up in the shower together, only to fuck up against the wall. I would have gotten on my knees for him and worshiped every inch of his rock-hard body, and once I was thoroughly done, I would have started all over again because we were meant to be. We’d found our happiness, and this was our chance to finally see a glimpse of what our lives could look like together.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d wake to hear those words spill from his mouth. You need to leave. Since the moment I walked out of his room, those words have terrorized me in every way possible.

You need to leave.

You need to leave.

They won’t go away, no matter what I do. They’re on a constant loop inside my mind, destroying me from the inside out.

How could he just toss me aside as though I never mattered? I know this is all still so new, but the moment he saved me from the auctions and took me to his home, I came to terms with the fact that I was never going back. I’d said goodbye to my old life and started to learn what this new world had in store for me, and while it scared the shit out of me, I knew it was going to be okay because I had Killian right there to protect me.

Don’t get me wrong, the idea of marriage and babies at twenty-three also terrified me, but Killian made it seem so easy, so natural. He made me believe that I could have anything I wanted, but I didn’t want anything . . . only him. And now . . . Am I ever going to see him again? Or is he always going to be nothing more than a memory, a figment of my imagination, or a story that nobody will ever believe?

It’s a long drive back into the city, and the last time I did it, Killian knocked me out with one hell of a strong sedative. I was so pissed about it, but now, I would give anything to be able to fall unconscious and wake up in another lifetime where the memories of him won’t hurt quite so much.

I was falling in love. There’s no doubt about it, and in an instant, he pulled the rug out from under my feet.

How the hell am I supposed to go back to my bland lifestyle after that?

The tears continue to flow, but I manage to gain control of my gasping breaths, and after an hour, the driver finally glances at me through his rearview mirror. I’m under no illusion that Killian would have demanded he watch over me. I also don’t doubt that someone will be watching me over the coming weeks. At least until I fade from Killian’s mind and become some girl he used to know.

It’s a long three hours by the time the driver pulls to a stop outside my apartment block. The moment the door opens, the fresh air hits my face, and I’m reminded of the night I was snatched off this very sidewalk.

A shiver sails down my body, but I’m too exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster to pay it much attention. “You good?” the driver asks.

“I ummm . . . I’m not sure actually,” I say, struggling to get my voice above a mere whisper. “When I was first taken, I lost my bag that had my keys and everything in it. I’m not sure I can get into my apartment. Actually, I’m not sure I even still have an apartment.”

“Mr. DeLorenzo was sure to take care of that, Miss. Your home is just as it was before you left, and your rent is up to date.”

“Oh—”

“You should be able to find the spare key above the door frame.” The driver glances at me through the mirror, and I force a smile across my face, but it falters when he goes to open his door. “Let me help you with your bags.”

Waving him off, I scramble out of the car and peer at him through his open door. “No need. I won’t be keeping any of the things Killian gifted me. Please take them back to him. They’ll only get stolen around here, and truth be told, if they’re in my apartment, I’ll probably end up burning them before they even get a chance to be stolen.”

“You sure, Miss?”

“Positive,” I say. “Thanks again. And please let Krista know not to bother packing up the rest of my belongings. It’ll only be a waste of her time.”

He offers me a friendly smile, but I see the pity in his eyes, and not being able to handle it, I turn and make my way into my apartment complex before he gets a chance to destroy me further. The old, rickety stairwell looks just as unloved as it’s always been as I make my way up, clutching the railing to avoid plummeting to my death on the creaky steps.

My apartment is on the third floor, and by the time I reach my door, my whole body is ready to give out. I push up onto my tippy toes to feel the top of the door frame for the key, and finding it a moment later, I make quick work shoving it into the lock.

The door opens, and as I walk in, I feel as though I’m taking a step back in time. This place has been my home for so long, but now it feels foreign—like it no longer belongs to me. All my things are here, but my heart belongs somewhere else.

It’s a small apartment, and before I’ve even closed the door behind me, I see the wad of cash and the phone that’s been left on the kitchen counter. Everything constricts within me. The last thing I want are his handouts. After all, they’re only here because of his ridiculous need to clear his guilty conscience.

Closing the door behind me, I make a point to flick the lock, put the chain on, and deadbolt the door before finally making my way over to the kitchen counter and looking over the cash with a cringe. There must be at least ten grand here—the type of money I would have killed for before my life was turned upside down.

Taking the phone, I power it on and wait the agonizing seconds for everything to load before opening the contacts list. There’s only one number programmed into it with no name, but I have a good idea who it belongs to.

Then just because I’m a petty bitch when I’m hurting, I open a new text and start typing.

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