Valeria spits in my face, her screams turning into sobs as they force a sedative into her arm and slam the doors of the medical van shut. The tires crunch over the gravel driveway, carrying my wife away to a private institution she will never, ever be allowed to leave.
I pull a handkerchief from my pocket and slowly wipe her spit from my cheek.
With Valeria removed from the equation, Maya has no one left to run to. No sister to protect her, no family to shield her, and no plan B.
When I bring her back, she will have absolutely nothing left in this world but me.
It's closer than it has ever been.
I can already taste her on my tongue.
11
Maya
One text is all it takes to completely shred any hope that I had actually crawled out alive from Graham’s cobweb.
A single sentence from his number:
“Valeria is not doing well.”
Inside my mind, a horde of demons immediately starts fighting.
Not doing well as in what?
What the fuck does “not doing well” mean when it comes to my sister?
The second my dishwasher shift ends, I sprint back to the motel to wash off. I’m moving so fast that I trip over the frayed carpet in the hallway. My knee cracks against the floorboards, and I find myself curled on the ground, screeching and blowing on the scraped skin before I can force myself to stand and move on.
I stuff all my valuables—my remaining cash, my paperwork—into my bag. I don’t trust that my things won’t be stolen if I don’t make it back tonight.
Or worse...
If he doesn’t let me leave.
Fuck.
Everything I do seems to be the wrong choice. I tried my absolute best to amend my mistakes with Valeria. I tried to dothe right thing by disappearing completely from her life to give her peace.
But it seems like no matter what path I choose, it is never the correct one.
I shouldn’t have even been born.
Valeria probably wouldn’t have turned out like this. She would be sweeter. Successful on her own, without needing a man like Graham.
I hand the cab driver my cash, wincing at how much I just dropped on the ride. I could have walked, but the estate is nearly four hours away on foot. Time is of the essence when Valeria “isn’t doing well.”
My feet instantly stall at the entrance of the mansion. The iron gates are already swinging open for me before I can even knock.
I am walking straight back into Graham.
Graham, who seems to pull me into his gravity every single time through something as simple, as deceptive, as treating me like I am something precious.
My sister’s husband.
And Valeria...
I am walking right back into the house she screamed at me to leave.
