Page 104 of The Delta's Rogue
Instead, I lean back against the seat and run my hands through my hair. “I’m sorry.” I glance at Nolan and Cassandra. “I shouldn’t have asked this of you.”
Nolan shakes his head, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “It’s fine. Besides, I owed you a favor, and now we’re even.”
I frown at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I wouldn’t have Cassandra if it weren’t for you.”
“You’d have found your way to her eventually. I just sped the process up a little.” I put my hands behind my head, leaning back against them, and stretch my legs out in front of me. “But I am three for three now.”
Cassandra laughs, and Nolan rolls his eyes, shoving me with one hand. “Dickhead.”
“Reid keeps calling me that. ‘Dickhead’.” Dominic locks his phone. “I thought we were on better terms again, but—”
“It’s a term of endearment,” Cassandra says, eyes still closed and her arms winding around Nolan’s torso.
Dominic raises a brow. “‘Dickhead’ is a term of endearment?”
“If Reid is saying it to your face, yes.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family.”
A silence settles over us after that as the car maneuvers through the bustling city.
Dominic leans into the corner, crossing his arms and resting against the window. Nolan lowers his face closer to Cassandra’s as they murmur softly to each other.
My heart clenches as their whispering winds its way to my ears while I stare out the front window, watching the lights paint the highway in white and red. Their words are nothing more than leaves rustling in the wind, their voices too quiet to make out, their conversation meant for only each other. But the absence of Sarina in my arms weighs me down, and I lean forward with my elbows on my knees to cradle my head in my palms.
A hand grabs my shoulder. “Hey.”
I glance at Nolan.
His serious eyes stare at me intently. “You’ll get Sarina back, Sebastian,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you. Your plan will work.”
“I hope you’re right.” I manage a half-smile in his direction. “Goddess, I hope you’re right.”
Vacant, lackluster, and hopeless.That’s how I’d describe the eyes staring back at me—empty versions of them, nestled into a thinner version of my face, set atop a weakened, barely surviving version of my body.
That version of me stands in front of a mirror in the middle of an ornate bathroom, naked and waiting for someone to instruct her on what to do next. Her tresses are longer and fuller than they’ve ever been. Her skin gleams. Every inch of it is smooth and flawless, softened by cosmetics, and every bit of unwanted—unacceptable—body hair is permanently removed by magic.
But that girl in the mirror? She’s not me. There’s nothing of the old me left in her. Any bit of remaining hope, of lingering fire, was doused by their manipulations and their sick, twisted games. Games I willingly played. Games I participated in to protect myself.
Games that broke me.
Now I’m here, staring at a girl who looks like me but isn’t me, trapped in a web of my own making, waiting for them to seal my fate.
“The bath is ready, Anaís.”
I close my eyes at the sound of Brenna’s voice, shutting out my broken reflection. Wordlessly, my feet carry me to the tub, and I climb inside the waiting bath she’s drawn for me.
Warm, perfumed water swirls around me as I lean against the edge, my head resting on a cushion attached to the side. Brenna’s magic keeps the temperature from dropping andthe water moving softly over and around my body—a gentle, massaging ripple to soothe my muscles and soften my skin.
It’s been four days since they told me about my auction, four days since the night Brenna failed to connect me to mySebastián. Each one is endless. Each one brings me closer to the day they plan to sell me to the highest bidder.
The day my life ends.
I’m not sure if those days have been real or magically altered. I haven’t had the heart to ask Brenna. Since the failed dream, we’ve spoken no words to each other beyond what’s necessary.
As Brenna wets my hair with the detachable faucet head, I shut my eyes, both to block any water from irritating them and to hide the flash of deeper pain at the thought of that failed dream.
I fell asleep that night on a fluffy cloud of hope-filled happiness, my heart galloping in anticipation of seeing Sebastian after so long without him, after he’d been only a memory for four long years. But the night came and went, and I awoke the next morning with tears in my eyes and a dagger in my heart at the realization that it didn’t work.
