Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I turn down an uneven road, stirring Siân from her brief sleep.
“Mm.” She stretches. “Where are we?”
I glance at her, then back to the road. “We’re just about there. The hotel is just up ahead.”
She nods and adjusts in her seat while craning her neck to peek out the front window.”This is beautiful. I think I remember coming here before.”
I dart my gaze to her and back.
“Yeah. I was with Cynthia and my dad. I couldn’t have been no more than five or six. But I remember it vividly because I fell and scraped my knee right over there.” Siân points across me to a section of seating just feet away from a statue. “I was climbing on the statue and fell. How do I remember that? I don’t remember much after I was ten.”
“Repressed memories. You went through a traumatic experience. Your little brain must have hidden thoughts of anything before you got away. You were protecting yourself.”
She’s quiet, and I have to look at her to be sure she’s okay. Her face is grim, and her shoulders rigid.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
She shakes her head while picking at her nails. “No, it’s fine. I knew that. It’s just still surreal. Growing up here and never knowing about this world is overwhelming.”
“It can be. But, you’re strong, and like I told you in Florida, risk makes you stronger.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Everything that has happened, it’s a risk—trauma. It’ll make you tougher.”
“Are you seriously trying to negate me almost being murdered into a pep talk?”
“No. Not at all. But it’s a fact.”
“Yeah, well, Christian, we all can’t be heartless.”
I don’t respond to that because she’s right. I don’t expect her to be like me, but she needs to be stronger, especially now that people are out to get us. But like I’ve told her, her safety is important to me, so whoever this is just fucked with the wrong motherfucker.
15
SIN
“Here you are.” The clerk on the other side of the counter slides a key card across the marbled surface. “Have you any bags to be carried to the room? One of our employees—”
“No need. We’ll manage it.” With a firm grip on my hand, Christian leads me away from the front desk of the sprawling hotel we've checked into. This whole experience is such a whirlwind that I can't keep track of the surprises. The biggest surprise of all being how sweet and attentive Christian is now.
All it took was me being moments away from death.
“Are you hungry?” he asks on the way to the elevator. “Would you like something to eat before we go to the room?”
“What I want more than anything now is sleep.” Then as an afterthought, “Though maybe we can order a pot of tea. Something hot.” I touch a tentative hand to my throat, which still hurts.
“Of course. I should have thought of that.” He looks disappointed with himself. “Whatever you need. Perhaps something for pain?”
“We’ll see.” When he doesn't look any less concerned, I try to give him a smile. “Thank you. I'll be fine.” It's overwhelming how he's swung all the way back to how he was before. I wish he would stay this way. I hate always wondering in the back of my mind what's going to cause him to swing back to that cold, degrading version of himself. When he's like that, I would swear he hates me. It's hard to imagine why he wouldn't want me dead when he treats me like garbage.
Right now, I'm a treasure. He even strokes my hair on the way up to our penthouse, then keeps me close to him when we step off the elevator and into the spacious, luxurious suite. It's enough to take my breath away, and the views beyond the windows are even more stunning. I could sit here all day and gaze out at the expanse of mountains, the lake, and gorgeous villas spread out in front of me. I could be God sitting up here, looking down on creation.
Instead, I'm a very confused, very tired girl who can't remember a time when life was normal. It must have been at some point, right? At a moment like this, it's tough to remember. So much has happened so fast.
Christian checks everything out while I gaze out the window. I watch his return in the reflection on the glass. “There's an electric tea kettle in the kitchen. I've turned it on for you. Why don't you freshen up, and I'll bring you a cup?”
“You don't have to go to the trouble.”
“It's no trouble.”
And it isn't worth it to argue. I go to the bathroom and take a quick shower, then wrap myself in a thick, warm bathrobe provided by the hotel. All the while, I hear Christian talking on the phone. His voice is muffled by the walls, but it's obvious he's tense. I wouldn't want to be the person on the other end of the line.