Page 204 of Sinful Lies

Every time he asked me something or spoke to me, I simply nodded, lost in my own thoughts, trying to brace myself for this uninvited, unwelcome journey ahead.

Part of me wanted to scream when he said he needed to see the place that had made me—the place that had broken me, shattered me. The place where my pain had been born, the place where I’d lost everything that mattered.

I wanted to slap him. Tell him to go to hell for making such a demand.

But that was when I knew I couldn’t keep running anymore.

Nine years. I’d spentnine yearshiding from the truth, from my own reflection. Avoiding everything that might break me further. But there was no running anymore. Not now.

So, I told him I’d do it, then stood, left the room, and went to sleep in the guest bedroom, thinking maybe he wanted some space too.

But in the dead of night, his body pressed against mine, his arm around my waist, his head buried in the curve of my neck.

Relief washed over me, unexpected and bittersweet. I closed my eyes, letting sleep take over. Even the haunting image of Greg’s dead eyes glaring at me faded, pushed aside by the heat of his skin against mine.

He turned off the engine.

That was it. I had to get out and?—

A wave of heat hit me, making the world tilt.

Black dots swarmed my vision, and my throat tightened.

Not now, not here, please.

“Breathe, Jade.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady myself. My hands curled into fists, and I forced a slow breath, fighting the panic that had a grip on my chest.

“Good girl,” he murmured. His fingers wrapped around mine, pressing my hand to his lips. “I’m here,amore.”

I nodded, feeling the warmth of his touch seep through the fog in my mind.

I exhaled, the pressure in my chest finally loosening.

It took a moment, but eventually, I could breathe without feeling like I was drowning. My heart steadied, the panic fading into something heavier.

Angelo got out and circled the car to open my door. He unfastened my seatbelt, zipped my coat, and carefully eased my hair free from the collar.

Then he cupped my face, his thumb lazily caressing my cheek.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze steady on mine.

I nodded.

Stepping out of the car, I led him toward the forest path. Mud and snow clung to my boots as we trudged forward. The trees thinned out, revealing a barren stretch of land littered with signs screaming “Do Not Trespass” and “Private Property.” Cheap red ribbons fluttered in the wind, barely hanging onto the posts meant to warn people away.

We climbed over them anyway.

The ground turned slick with snow and sludge as we moved closer.

Finally, we stopped in front of a faded red sign, its peeling letters spelling out one word:Mines.

I froze. My hands trembled.

The place was quiet, lifeless, but the memories weren’t. They clawed their way to the surface—images, sounds, everything I’d spent years trying to forget. My breath caught, sharp and shallow, as if the air itself had turned against me.

“This is it?”

---