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“That’s all I’ve done since I met her, asshole.”
Suddenly a thought crossed my mind, and I had to ask his perspective on this big question now running in my mind. “Are we going to tell Nerine we know or wait to see if she says anything to us?”
“This is her secret. Our job is to protect her, which is what we will do.”
I released a deep breath. “We jumped from the pan into the fire.”
“At least she is ours now, free and clear.”
I shot Xander a glare. He was so fucking determined for the three of us to turn back time and fall into the relationship we’d once had.
It was hard to release the hurt of the past. When everything went down, he still had his parents, his extended family. I, on the other hand, had no one. Xander had no clue what it was like to be alone in the world.
“Keep dreaming. We are no way near close to making that a reality.”
Eighteen
Nerine
Four days.
Four days since I became a widow…since I killed him.
I took a deep breath as I stepped out of my shower into the bathroom of the suite of rooms I now occupied.
This one was triple the space of the one I’d used for the last nearly five years, and ten times more opulent. Everything was designed to exact specifications and brand-new—newish, since it sat here for five years without use and occasional cleaning.
Not a single soul had utilized this section of the house after the completion of construction—well, until now.
I’d moved in the evening everything went down with Andraius. It was on the renovated side of the mansion, as far away as possible from where I’d spent the last few years.
Papa and Mama had planned to update the entire mansion, section by section. They’d started with new living quarters for them and all their children.
Maybe it was good that Andraius never wanted to stay on this side of the house. This section remained pure of his touch, his stench, his evil.
When Mama and the girls arrived in the next few days, they’d have a place to sleep without the taint of the horrors committed inside the old rooms.
Pulling a towel from a rack, I dried my body before wrapping it around my wet hair. The pain in my calf had finally eased to a dull ache. It was a state I could manage while wearing heels at the funeral in a few days.
Moving before the double sink vanity, I stared at my reflection in the mirror above it.
I wanted to laugh, and at the same time, the desire to cry pushed at the edges. I’d gotten everything I begged God to give me. Except for the escape I so desperately wanted.
And it was time to accept that it was a childish dream anyway. I was the eldest. My sisters and I were the last of the Angelos line in America. If I ran, my sisters and mother became even bigger targets.
I forced myself to study my body and the ugly jagged word carved into my stomach. I had allowed Andraius to win and add to my pain by constantly avoiding looking at them. Never again.
He was dead. He deserved to die. I’d survived. I’d won. Fuck him.
Plus, the cream had faded the lines to lighter shades of brown. Soon they’d be barely visible, and they weren’t anywhere near as puckered as before.
These were my battle wounds.
I knew I had a long way to go, but baby steps.
I grinned to myself.No baby for you, jackass.
I angled my face to the side and traced the bruises down my neck. They’d turned an ugly shade of yellow-green, something I’d have to continue to hide, at least for another little while.
