Page 48 of Depravity

It’s dark in the room.

I have no idea what time it is. With the drapes drawn, it could be day or night.

A face seems to flit into view.

But it can’t be, it can’t.

“Momma?”

I sound so broken, so helpless. Something creeps up my spine, and I shudder violently as I try to get some grip on reality.

But she’s there. Still there.

She hasn’t changed, hasn’t aged, she looks exactly as I remember her.

She gives me a pained smile before she’s hugging me, comforting me, whispering in my ear that she loves me.

“He’s going to kill me.” I gasp.

She shakes her head, brushing away the tears. Soothing me in a way I so desperately need.

“Please…”

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to stay. I want her to take me with her, to take my soul, to carry me away and keep me safe forever.

“Take me with you…” I gasp.

I’d follow her anywhere. I’d follow her to hell. Which is where my family believes she is. I just don’t want her to go, I don’t want her to leave.

But I can hear the footsteps, the sounds of someone approaching.

Is it him? Is he back?

“Please momma,” I sob. “Please…”

The door opens. Bright, blinding light fills the space. I throw my hand up to cover my eyes and I groan from the horrific pain that shoots through my body at the movement.

He’s dressed in his usual suit, with his shirt slightly unbuttoned. His hair is ruffled. There’s a sheen of perspiration on his forehead, and he looks tired. Like something has been keeping him up at night.

Good.

I hope the bastard is struggling to sleep.

He lets out a sigh as he walks into the room and he shrugs off his jacket, revealing those bulging muscles.

As he undoes his shirt, my eyes dart about, trying to spot where my mother is. Where she’s hiding.

Only, I can’t see her. It’s like she vanished into thin air.

She left. She left me alone.

I can’t keep the pain in, I can’t contain it. That old grief stirs in my belly, and the bitter unfairness of my life hits me at full force.

Conrad walks up to me, crouching down to sweep the hair from my face.

“Have you slept all day?” He asks, sounding every bit the loving husband now.

I blink back, afraid that if I admit that I have, he’ll beat me again for the sin of slothfulness.

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