Page 40 of Devil's Thirst

He lowers his hands from my arms. “Is that what you’d say about Oran and your sister? Because from what I understand, their start was no different.”

Again, he turns my words against me, leaving me speechless. He’s exactly right. Oran and Lina met one another while both weaving a web of lies. Lina was trying to find me by infiltrating The Society. Oran had his own agenda. The two never planned to fall in love, but fate interceded. Despite the crazy odds against them, they ended up married, and I’ve never seen my sister happier.

It’s so unsettling that this man I thought was a stranger suddenly knows so much. Too much.

Oh God.

I told him about The Society and my fears. He knows about my stalker. And for all I know, he may have an entire dossier on my past.

Sensing my rising panic, he clasps my face and guides my gaze to his.

“I told you from the beginning not to get hung up on names and labels. Youknowme. I’m the one who’ll keep you safe. I’m the one who makes your pussy drip with need. None of that has changed. I get that you’re upset, so I’ll give you a little time to wrap your head around it all. But Mellie,” he continues, his voice pitching even lower, “don’t be mistaken. You can’t escape me.”

He lowers his hands before slowly backing away, eyes still boring holes deep into my soul.

I’m at a complete loss, blindsided by all that’s unfolded. I don’t know what to think. I only know that I need space. I need room to breathe and figure out what to do next.

I turn away and take one unseeing step at a time toward home.

You can’t escape me.

He’s right.

I can’t report him to the police. I can’t ask my family for help because they’re more his family than mine, and telling them anything will only dredge up more questions.

There truly is no escaping Sante Mancini.

I think back to that night so many years ago—the night of Lina and Oran’s wedding—and the boy I met with torment in his eyes.

CHAPTER 20

AMELIE

Past

It’s beenfour months since I got my memories back.

Seven months since I was drugged and kidnapped.

Ten months since my mother arranged to sell my virginity, forcing me to run away from home.

I don’t have my GED yet. I haven’t managed to snag any dance jobs since my role inChicago, which only happened because half the cast came down with the flu. I work so hard every day to focus on the positives, but the only thing that seems to change is this expanding emptiness that fills my chest.

Sometimes, I wish my memories had never come back. It would have been easier, in a way. During those confusing days, I would spend hours daydreaming about the family who was probably worried sick about me. Judging by the jewelry I wore when I was found, I was certain I’d had money. Money meant family. Family meant home and belonging. I knew everything would be okay if I could only remember.

Then Lina found me, and as the memories flooded back, I had to relive the horrifying lessons from the past, proving thatfamily can also mean heartbreak. Coming to terms with the past year of my life has been more of a struggle than I could force myself to unload on my sister. She’s done so much for me already, and on top of it all, she’s been planning her wedding. I couldn’t burden her. She deserves a world of happiness. I want her to enjoy this time in her life and not have to deal with my drama.

Lina spent years trying to protect me from our mother. This is my chance to return the favor. Some days are harder than others, like today. I should be over the moon to see Lina so incandescently happy on her wedding day. We’re surrounded by her new family, all of whom are ecstatic to take her into the fold.

They’re welcoming toward me as well, but it’s not the same. I’m not one of them. I don’t seem to belong anywhere anymore. No parents. No friends. I’m adrift in the world.

If I were as strong as Lina, it wouldn’t be a problem. She left home at the same age as me, grateful to never look back. She’s independent and self-assured. She doesn’t need anyone, whereas I feel like a sailboat whose sail has been ripped away by the wind.

The root of my issue is more complex than overcoming my parents’ deaths. The war I wage is against the painful loneliness of knowing they never wanted me in the first place.

I’ve convinced myself that my presence will burden other people’s lives. An intrusion. Unless I can think of some concrete value I have to offer, my default is to isolate. I hate being alone, yet I bring it upon myself. The vicious cycle has held me captive for months.

Even here, surrounded by a tent full of people, I’m desperately lonely.

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