Page 58 of Tasting Sin

AVA:And hurry!

My stomach flipped, and my throat started to burn with bile. “Not again!” I blinked several times to see through the veil of tears and the nervous fog, frantically turning. “Spice, I need to go. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

ME:I’m on my way.

I grabbed my purse and hurried for the door, slipping on the first pair of shoes I could find. “Where are my keys?” I panicked when I reached into my purse and didn’t feel them there. They weren’t on the table by the door either. Where had I set them when I came in last night?

I rushed back into the kitchen, checking the counters and snatching them from the shelf in the living room when they caught my eye. I slammed the door behind me, locking it and skipping stairs two at a time to get to my car quicker.

“Come on, come on!” I smacked my hand against the steering wheel when I turned the key in the ignition, hoping it would start faster. The engine flipped, and the radio flashed to life. The volume was loud, and I smacked the button to turn it off. Yesterday Nellie was not the same person as Today Nellie.

Before my seatbelt clicked, I was pulling out and rushing to the bakery. I could’ve walked, but Ava told me to hurry. I should’ve slowed down more when I turned, the tires squealing when I whipped the car onto the street that housed my bakery. I parked, jumping out and rushing to the back door. It was locked.

“Ava?” I shouted, knocking before I arranged the keys on my ring to get to the one to the bakery. When I unlocked the door and pulled it open, the light was off. “Ava, are you in here?”

She didn’t respond, and a nervous feeling caused my stomach to cramp. I reached into my pocket for my phone, pulling it out to call her, when I saw a light flashing in the front of the bakery. It was slow, flashing brightly every second or second and a half, like it was on a steady timer. My mouth dried out when my call went to her voicemail.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked, pulling up my call log to call Ronan instead. Something was wrong.

The phone only rang once before he answered. “Hey, sugar. I was hoping I’d hear from you today.” He started, not pausing for a breath. “How are you feeling?”

“I think something is wrong,” I said. Then, the bakery went black, and rough fabric covered my face. It was damp, and when it was tightened around my neck, I screamed. My phone made a thud when it hit the floor, but I couldn’t hear over the panic.

Everything smelled like ether, with a slight sweetness to it, and I screamed again. I tugged at the ties on the bag, but my arms felt heavy, and no matter how hard I tried to calm my fear, I couldn’t get my fingers to function the way I wanted them to. They wouldn’t grab the string and pull.

I tried to scream again, but someone grabbed onto me, holding the fabric to my face and covering my mouth. The next was muffled, and my throat burned when I inhaled. I couldn’t scream again. When I tried, nothing came out. I couldn’t lift my arms. And when my eyes felt heavy, I tried and failed to fight them.

You’re untouchable.

Then, everything went black.

Chapter 38

Ronan

“I’m just saying, you didn’t need to bring her to the warehouse.” Giaco sat across from my desk with his legs crossed and a look of disappointment on his face that matched our father’s. “What were you thinking?”

I pressed my fingers to my temple. “I already told you: I trust her. I needed to show her she can trust me, that she’s safe.”

“I hope you don’t regret that.” He dropped his leg to the floor and sat forward. “I don’t trust these detectives. They’re up to something.” It seemed like the feds were always up to something—always trying to pin some chain of crimes on our family to get us put away for as long as possible. It didn’t usually work, but they kept trying.

“I won’t regret it.” When my phone started to ring on the desk, I laughed. “Speak of the devil.” My brother looked unamused, but I answered the phone anyways, holding up a finger to him. “Hey, sugar. I was hoping I’d hear from you today. How are you feeling?”

“I think something is wrong,” she said, and my lungs slammed into my chest, knocking the wind from them. Her voice was shaking, and it sounded like she was trying to stay quiet.

“What do you mean something is wrong?” I asked her, sitting up straight. Giaco sat up straight too, suddenly interested in my conversation.

There was rustling from her end of the line, followed by a huff and a clatter like the phone was dropped. Then, I heard her scream, and red fogged my vision. I listened to what sounded like people fighting, the muffled thud of one body against another.

“Nellie!” I shouted, already convinced she wouldn’t hear me. I yelled again anyways. “Nellie, what’s going on?”

She didn’t answer. I heard a scuttle, and then it sounded like the fight was further away, but when she screamed again, the sound pierced through me. The third scream was quieter, shorter, and then she was silent. “Fuck!” I hung up the phone and slammed it against my desk. “Something is wrong.”

I didn’t have to tell Giaco that before he was standing behind me and looking over my shoulder at the computer. Nellie had insisted she didn’t want me to install cameras, but Carlo couldn’t see the back of the bakery. I told her I would protect her—that nothing would happen to her.

“What are you doing?” Giaco asked when I started furiously typing, pulling up the camera feed.

“I’m checking the cameras.” The video started playing, and I backed it up ten minutes to just before she called me.

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