Page 42 of Cavern of Silence
"Julieta just talked about blowing her head off with one of our Glocks," Hunter says.
"Where is she?"
"She went into that building."
"Julieta," I bellow out and run toward the building, scared of what she might already have done, and trying to make a deal with God not to take her, too.
7
Julieta
Everythingin the guest quarters mirrors the main house.
It represents happiness and warmth.
What a lie.
I created that mirage.
Anger and despair rear their ugly heads. I should be immune to it at this point, but it hits me harder than normal.
To torture myself further, I rip my shirt and bra off, stand in the full-length three-way mirror, and stare at the six inchJandTbranded into each side of my spine.
Who owns you?Jonas Torres's voice asks.
"Ahh!" I scream and throw the bottle of rum. It hits the wall and explodes into dozens of pieces.
I break down, sobbing harder while the reality of my life and who owns me mocks me in the mirror.
"Julieta," Ryker calls out and freezes when he steps through the door. He glances at the shards scattered everywhere and then me.
I look for my shirt, but it's across the room, so I cover my chest with my arms, but there is nowhere to hide.
The shame of my situation and body is beyond repair. No matter what I do, nothing will ever change my reality. I don't even know what I was thinking, leaving with Ryker. The Global Leaders are too powerful. Jonas Torres will always own me; all I need to do is look at my body. And no matter where I run, they will find me.
When Ryker's eyes move to my reflection, they widen, and my shame only intensifies. I see his horror and disgust, and it only crumbles me further.
For the last twenty-four hours, I've been in fantasy land. I knew better than to cling to the hope that grew in my heart. It stirred a myth that maybe I wasn't unlovable. Perhaps I could have a second chance with a man who was the opposite of all the evil surrounding me over the last six years.
But I'm a stupid woman. There is no way a man could ever look past the initials of a vile human being branded on my back. The truth is in Ryker's eyes.
Right now, there is nowhere to hide. The disguise has come off. The naked proof of my indignity flares, and there is nothing I can do to soften the glare.
I can't talk. I gasp for air, but my grief is all-consuming. It swallows me whole and rips me to shreds, and everything I've done to try and keep it together falls apart.
"Go away," I choke out and turn so I don't have to see his eyes, but the mirror continues to make me suffer.
And now I'm fully exposed, and I can't decide if it's worse for him to stare at my back or for me to see the expression on his face.
He steps forward and wraps his arms around me. "Who did this to you?"
His question only makes me sob harder.
He locks eyes with me in the mirror. "Tell me."
"It doesn't matter," I cry out.
He sternly says, "It does. Tell me."
