Page 33 of Savage Sin

There’s a deep chuckle behind me and then I’m plucked off the floor and put right back on the bed.

“No! Please. No! Damn you!” I can’t do much of anything when he puts those damn ties back on my wrists and ankles.

“I gave you a chance to act civil.”

“I have been known to be a little stubborn.”

His eyes dance with a challenge. “I guess we’ll see who breaks first.”

He turns pained eyes on me. “And know that it will be you,Princessa. One last chance. Tell me where to find Joaquin Cortes and you are free to go.” He spreads his hands out in front of him and gestures to the door like it’s the easiest thing in the world for me to put my pregnant sister in the path of danger. No, I’ll figure this out on my own.

My family has taken great measures to keep out of the public eye. No one knows where to find thehaciendaand it’s been that way for years. I could tell him, but I still have a little time to get free and back to her. I can’t put my sister’s life in the hands of this bloodthirsty man. Nor our mother’s.

Rage looks like he wants to say something else when all I do is return his stare. I guess he thinks better of it and opts to move my hair from my face with a pensive look.

He stands and then stops at the door.

“If you don’t give me what I want by morning, I’ll leave you tied to the bed while I go hunting. You’re miles away from civilization and I’m the only one who knows where you are. Do the math. You’ll die tied to that bed.”

He pauses.

“My nightmares bring death, Persephone. Don’t make it be yours. Sleep tight.”

Eight

Persephone

It’s been dark for hours when I hear Rage shuffling around the cabin.

A deep, guttural sound tears through the silence of the night and I shake against my ties. Tortured. That is what he sounds like.

Something is wrong. Panic sends my heart into a frenzy. I strain against my ties.

The door swings open to bounce off the back wall.

“Rage?” I ask and only get silence back. A shadowed form stands in the doorway. The cherry on his cigarette glows in the darkness just past the door frame. Darkness clings to him as if he’s made from bad dreams and death. I recognize its alluring scent.

“I have nightmares too,” I say tentatively. “Mine chase me. I can feel the fingers in my hair as I narrowly escape into the morning light. Talk to me.” Get him to talk. It’s a step closer to getting free.

The sweet scent of vodka reaches across the room and all hope of getting out of here dies. He’s not coming in here to release me.

Blood drains from my face and leaves my cold all over. Heavy footfalls thud on the carpet and I shut my eyes against the memory of my step-father.

Rage is not him. Rage is not him.

He prowls closer. When the edge of the bed compresses under his impressive weight, I don’t scream. Nor move. Instinct has me holding my breath for what may come next. Blood rushes in my ears. I tell myself to calm the hell down, but I’m not good at listening to common sense. The hand winding around my neck has me stiffen and I slam my eyes closed.

“What are you doing?” I demand, like I have some kind of control over anything and fight the tight hold over me.

“Drink.”

His voice breaks the hold of the past and my eyes spring open. I inhale. Mountain air and pine. I’m not at thehaciendaand it’s not Joaquin looming over me with evil intent.

I look up to find moonlight bouncing off shards of blue. Joaquin has brown eyes, I remind myself.

Rage pulls me up as far as my bindings will allow and touches the bottle of vodka to my lips. After I swallow, he turns to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from me.

Puckered scars litter the expanse of his back under a blanket of ink. I’m not the only one with a dark past. Is that why he was shouting into the night?

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