Page 171 of Never Die for a Sinner
Once I’m out in the night, I realize the wetness on my face is tears. Angrily, I scrub them away as I make my way down the sidewalk.
Why was I so stupid?
I let him pull me in. He told me from the beginning this was just sex, and like the idiot I am, I let myself get caught up in the little things.
Like the way he holds me in his sleep. Like I might run away or disappear.
Or the way he made me soup when I was sick and brushed my hair with his fingers until I fell asleep in his arms.
Or the way he calls for me in his nightmares. Like I’m the only one who can stop them.
I hate him.
I hate him because he made me love him. I’m a walking oxymoron with a penchant for falling for men who should come with a list of trigger warnings.
I ignore my phone buzzing because I don’t have to look to know who it is. Part of me wants to answer because I have no idea where I am, but the other, stupidly irrational part of me is pissed off and hurt like a child.
I keep walking, and the further I get from The Tomb, the colder it gets. The sun is starting to set, and the streets are growing quieter.
It’s not until my phone stops buzzing for the seventh time that I stop and look around.
Nothing looks familiar, and I realize what a grave mistake I made.
I’m lost and alone.
The wind blows my hair around me, sending a shiver down my spine.
The shadows grow darker from the alleyway to my left.
The silence hums around me.
I’m well and truly alone.
At least . . . until someone whistles behind me.
“You alright, sweetheart?” a man asks, his back pressed into he bricks of the alleyway. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a smirk on his face.
I keep my arms wrapped tightly around myself, glancing into the man’s dark brown eyes.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I respond, though my voice cracks as a crawling sensation slides up my spine.
I continue past him, but I can feel his presence behind me. I resist the urge to run, holding my bag tightly to my chest.
“You sure?” he asks, his voice too close for comfort. My stomach sinks with each thud of his footsteps behind me, and my breathing grows tighter and tighter with anxiety. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be out this time of night. It ain’t safe.”
Wonder why that is?I think dryly.
“My boyfriend’s on his way,” I lie. I have no idea if Levi’s looking for me or not. He’s not even my boyfriend.
“Oh, come on,” the man slurs, and I can tell he’s been drinking. “Don’t be like that. Let me take you home. I can protect you.”
“No, thank you.”
He chuckles, and the sound turns my chest to ice.
He doesn’t stop.
In fact, he only gets closer.
