Page 80 of Sinful Scars

“I want you to stay,” she whispers.

My head snaps up. “What?”

“I want you to stay, Lev.”

“How… How can you want me anywherenearyou now that you know the truth of what I’ve done?”

She sighs. “I know I should hate you. I know I should do a lot of things. But I can’t ignore the fact that you saved my life. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

I hate how blasé she’s being.

Does she not understand how dangerous I am?

“Don’t let that cloud your judgment of me, Elle. I’m not good for you. I’m not good for anyone.”

“So, is it really true? Did you kill them?”

I run a hand over my face as I try to take a steadying breath.

“I honestly don’t know. The evidence suggests I did, but I…I don’t remember.”

“I’m confused. How can you not remember something like that?”

I have no doubt that Elle has been told the story behind the murders of Andre Koslov and his wife. About how Alexei witnessed them being butchered in their own home and could do nothing as his mother and father bled to death.

It was brutal and completely barbaric.

Which, apparently, is something I am.

“I don’t remember a lot of things.”

“What do you mean? Like amnesia or something?”

“No, not like that. It’s more that I…black out. Sometimes, I can be out for five minutes, and sometimes it’s hours. I wake up, often somewhere completely random, with no memory of how I got there or what I’ve done.”

“How often does this happen?”

“It varies, but I’ve had a few recently.”

“That sounds scary.”

“What’s scarier is not knowing what I’ve done during that lost time.” I shake my head. “When I blacked out the other day, Nina came to get me. It turns out, I had abandoned my car on the side of the interstate and had walked for hours until I reached the edge of some cliff.”

“Oh, my god…”

“Nina’s been the one who helped me through my blackouts in the past, which is why I gave in and called her. It was then that she told me the truth about how my mother had an affair with Andre Koslov, which means that Igor was never my realfather.”

“Oh, Lev…”

“Which means that I killed my own father in cold blood.” I fight the urge to vomit as the words leave my lips.

“How does that make you feel? That Igor isn’t your father?”

Is she seriously ignoring that fact that I just admitted to murdering my own father?

“Tell me.”

I almost laugh at her attempt to try and turn this into some sort of therapy session.

---