Page 73 of Wicked Sins

Going to the chapel and we’re…

No, not the chapel.

Bale Manor. Myhome. That’s where we’re going. The reason why itches at my mind, but I’ve blocked it out. Or the injection they gave me did.

The kids were looking at me funny when I left. Haley didn’t even bother saying goodbye. I guess she’s jealous that I’m getting out before her. I never thought she’d be such a bitch about it…then again, I never really knew her that well.

Go-ing to Joah’s house and we’re

Go-nna get ma-a-a-ried.

I wish I could laugh. I wish I had the will to move. I wish I could close my eyes and never have to open them again.

Maybe this time I’ll run away…and stay gone forever.

Something tickles my cheek. Again. Again.

Movement.

Josiah’s knuckle grazes my cheek.

Tears.

I’m crying.

Fingers grasp my chin. He turns me to face him. He’s frowning hard, his curvy mouth suppressed into a thin line, but after studying me for a few seconds, his expression smooths into something unreadable.

“Why are you crying?” he asks.

I wish I had the energy to tell him. Instead, I just slump and let his hand support my head. A moment later, he slides his arm around my shoulder and carefully pulls me away from the window.

My head rests on his shoulder, his warmth and his smell rising up to envelop me as tightly as his arm. I can’t stop the tears any more than I can speak. They soak into his shirt, and the fabric begins itching against my cheek.

Go-ing back to hell and we’re

Go-nna kiss the de-e-evil…

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Candy

I’m supposed to feel sad or something, but I don’t. I can’t. It wasn’t like Emma was my sister or anything—I only knew her for a few months. I’m not even sad when I picture her in my mind. And I already know that’s going to be a huge problem when I arrive back home.

The manor appears up ahead, and my stomach turns to stone. We’re sitting on opposite sides of the car again, Josiah and I, and neither of us has said a word.

Those tears I shed earlier? I think they’re all I had in my reservoir. Now I’m dry-eyed and probably about to be accused of being a heartless bitch.

I thought I’d be happy coming home. But there’s only uneasiness…and it’s growing stronger by the minute.

The driver pulls up to the intercom and buzzes. No one answers, but a second later, the gates swing open on well-oiled hinges.

Joah shifts in his seat, but I force myself to stare straight ahead.

He hasn’t asked me about what happened back at Happy Mountain, and there’s been more than enough time for that. Which means he doesn’t care.

I don’t blame him.

My head’s a little foggy, but some memories start trickling back. The most vivid is a snapshot of Patrick trying to subdue me. Of that feeling where I’d imagined he’d been about to penetrate me.

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