Page 71 of A Touch of Dark
“I just want to know what it felt like,” Mateo insists, his voice dripping with derision and charm. “To take away someone who mattered from a family who loved them. When you had nothing. No one. Though you did score yourself a rich daddy, eh?”
“I saidenough.”
“Oh, but we’re having such a thrilling conversation. Aren’t we, Juliana?”
“You.” He pointed to me, grinning wide. “You pick. Remember the rules—”
“Juliana.” Damien’s voice has never sounded so cutting. It sinks into my skin, demanding my obedience. “Look at me.”
I do. He’s a blur, fading in and out of focus.
“This one matters, doesn’t she? She’s important, isn’t she? She’ll be missed, won’t she?
“Watch.”I had no choice.
He put the knife to Leslie’s throat. Dug in hard enough to make her whimper. Then scream. And scream…
“Look at me!”
I blink and the flashback melds into Damien. Then the forest. Damien. The forest. Simon. Leslie.
A sound I vaguely recognize as coming from me fills the air. A wheezing gasp. Can’t breathe. My fingers claw at my chest, but air won’t go in.
Can’t breathe!
“Enough!”
Warmth brushes my shoulder and I’m shoved toward the door.
“Go,” someone commands.
“No.” The second voice is harsher. “Let her stay.”
I’m dragged another step forward. Another. Suddenly, the world sways and I’m pushed aside. I stumble against the wall, fixated on the scene unfolding before me.
Mateo grabs his brother’s arm, his knuckles whitening over coiled muscle. “I said let theputastay—”
Boom!In a flurry of motion, someone careens into a nearby planter, sending soil and crushed flowers sailing through the air. They groan, lying dazed in the aftermath. Thin. Mateo. His brother stands over him, his hands clenched into fists, his body radiating fury.Madman, Daddy called him. Now, I know why as his head swivels in my direction, his voice a slap.
“Go!”
My limbs jolt into motion. I run for the exit and across the roof without looking back. Panting, I reach the elevator and take it to the first floor. A man barges into the lobby at the exact moment the elevator doors open. I ready my hands to fight, my throat already clenching around a scream.
“It’s all right,” he says, crossing to me. His face looks familiar. Faint sound crackles from an earpiece he’s wearing. “Mr. Villa sent me. I’m to take you home.”
Home.
Where Simon’s probably waiting for me. Where memories definitely are.
The home I don’t deserve.
The life I stole by killing Leslie.
Damien’s man hustles me onto the street, muttering something about a car being sent around. While he speaks, my eyes latch onto a yellow cab and I break away from him to flag it down.
“Wait!”
The guard can’t catch up before I fling myself into the back seat and slam the door behind me. The bewildered driver watches me from the rearview mirror as I slap my hand against the back of his seat.
