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I'd immediately drawn Manuel's attention and he'd scared me. His eyes had been cold and hard. But years later, he'd learned how to mask his psychopathy. He could pretend all so well that he was charming, kind, and loving.
That only lasted as long as it took for him to get his claws into me.
And then it was too late.
He'd taken all my money, money I now knew Knight had given me, all my freedom, my whole life.
Replaced it with a big house at the edge of the beach, guards keeping me prisoner within.
Then, the birds were his reminder that I belonged to him. To behave in public, keep a smile and an adoring look on my face, or I would be punished for it when we got home.
I couldn't rebel, or he would make me pay.
Broken bones, shattered confidence, and a death wish became my new life.
And yet, I thought I'd killed him.
It was almost impossible, but what was the saying? When all other possibilities are eliminated, the only one remaining, however improbable, must be the truth.
I stared into the mirror, the old, familiar look of fear in my wide eyes making a rush of memories wash over me.
How many times were my cheeks this flush with anger and hatred?
The rage building inside, the familiar acid on the edge of my tongue, the billowing heat in my chest, the welling tears in the back of my eyes.
How many times did I stare into a mirror and wish that I was dead?
That I could kill or be killed, or that my life had been different in a million different ways.
My fingers grasped the paper bird in my fingers, the shock of the truth returning with full force, doubt threatening to overwhelm me.
Was it actually possible that he'd survived that fateful night that Rook found me?
And now, if he was alive, if he was coming after me, he'd taken this young, sweet, innocent girl.
I put her in the line of fire, and if he was doing a tenth to her what he had done to me, her life would be irrevocably changed.
Guilt swept over me, grief making my knees shake so badly I collapsed to the floor.
It was all my fault.
Knight had managed to keep Honey and Abby safe. But because I couldn't stop my jealousy from bringing me to their house, I'd put them in danger.
You were never worthy of him. The old, familiar voice in the back of my mind reared its head. A voice I had long ago stifled.
I was the worst person.
I shouldn't exist on this earth.
I should've never come to Vegas.
Never should've tried to be better than what I really was.
I was just a poor, terrible Russian immigrant that was worth nothing to no one.
I didn't belong in this world, where people smiled and laughed. Where they had money for food and clothes and even extra stuff. Where they were surrounded by people they loved and who loved them, and they didn't worry about people disappearing in the middle of the night or dead bodies littered in their past.
I belonged with the trash, just as my parents always told me. Into little bits of fire and ash, swept across the world by the wind because I was so small and insignificant that no one ever thought or cared about me.
