Page 2 of Sinful Palace

My head ached like mad, and my heart seemed to beat in my throat as I tried and failed to conquer the shock and remorse blooming in my chest like a dark, deadly vine. It was relentless, wrapping around my insides and constricting each breath until a strangled moan slipped out of my mouth.

I couldn’t stop picturing Teddy’s ashen face and lifeless eyes, or the bloody hole in his head. It all happened because of me. Trouble and danger just seemed to follow me everywhere I went. Or maybe I simply invited it with every bad choice I made.

Another choked moan escaped my mouth. Logan remained silent, eyes on the road ahead. It felt like we’d been driving for hours, but the clock said only three minutes had passed. I closed my eyes and kept dragging air into my aching lungs, leaning my head against the cool window in an attempt to calm myself.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw that we’d just gone past the turnoff for Route 50.

“You missed the turnoff,” I murmured.

Logan shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“But that’s the way back.”

He shot me a dark look before turning his stony gaze back to the road. A bolt of fear shot through me, making my stomach churn, and I pressed my elbows into my sides, trying to make myself as small as possible as reality dawned on me.

We weren’t going back to the city.

We weren’t going home.

I assumed Logan chose to save me over his friend because he wanted me alive, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Maybe the kiss back at the port was some sort of twisted goodbye kiss. Maybe he was sick and tired of all the trouble I caused. Maybe it was easier to just get rid of me, so he was taking me somewhere to dispose of me. Somewhere I’d never be found.

I began to cry in earnest, sobs and tremors wracking my body as endless questions filled my mind.

Where the hell were we going? Why didn’t he just find another anchor and dump me in the bay with Teddy if he wanted me gone? Did he want to torture me for hours first, but then he realized doing it out in the open at the old port was probably a bad idea in case someone happened to come along? Or did he have a specific burial place in mind all along?

“Don’t kill me,” I blubbered, lifting my teary gaze to Logan. “Don’t. Don’t do it. Don’t kill me!”

I knew I was repeating myself. I knew I sounded insane. I couldn’t stop the words from bubbling up my throat and tumbling out of my mouth.

The car screeched to a halt on the side of the road. Logan leaned over and put a firm hand on my knee. “I told you to shut the fuck up,” he growled.

His eyes were ablaze with anger, making chills race through my veins. “Please,” I whispered brokenly. “Don’t kill me.”

He yanked his hand away and shook his head. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Relief flooded me instantly. I dragged in a deep breath. “Where are we going?” I dared to ask.

“Well, we can’t go home, because a certain someone set the fucking place on fire. It’s probably still burning as we speak,” Logan replied, eyes narrowing. “So I’m taking you to stay somewhere else until it’s fixed up.”

Guilt stabbed at my guts as I pictured the inferno at Thorne House. I wondered if everyone got out. If they were all unscathed.

Logan seemed to know what I was thinking, because he nodded and muttered a curt “They’re fine,” before turning the car on again, jaw tightly clenched.

“I’m sorry for what I did,” I whispered.

He ignored me and pressed his foot down on the accelerator, tearing down the road so fast I wanted to throw up. I still had no idea where we were going, but I was too scared to ask again. Logan was furious. I could tell by his corded neck and flaring nostrils, and the way his knuckles had turned white as he gripped the steering wheel.

I leaned back and looked out at the night sky, letting the fear of what would happen next wash over me.

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