Page 119 of Buried in Blood
Just for a second—I let myself pretend.
That I’m his.
That I’m free.
That I’m allowed to feel good without it being stolen.
I imagine what it would be like to hear the words, “You’re mine,” spoken from Reese’s full lips.
I shatter, shuddering beneath my fingers, allowing the wave of heat and temptation to swirl through me. I want to be his… One day…
And when it’s over, I curl onto my side, one hand on my chest, the other still holding that goddamn card like it’s the only thing keeping me from fading.
Because maybe it is.
34
Brooke
The mattress creaks when I shift.
The mattress is thin, the walls cold, and the single bulb overhead buzzes like it’s fighting to stay alive. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Time folds in on itself when no one screams, when no one touches you without permission.
This silence is unfamiliar.
Unnerving.
Safe.
I sit with my back against the wall, knees drawn up, eyes on the rusted bars. I could sleep with the door open and still wouldn’t leave. Not yet. Not until I remember how.
The lock clicks.
Not loud. Not sharp. Just… final.
Dante stands above, lowering a ladder down into the rectangular opening. He doesn’t look at me at first—he never does. His presence is a storm held in check. Controlled violence. Rage on a leash.
But not for me.
Not yet.
He lowers himself in.
Heplaces a thermos on the ground. Something warm. I can smell the cinnamon from here. Oatmeal, maybe. I blink at it.
He sits across from me, legs folded, forearms on his knees.
“You sleep?”
I shake my head.
He nods, like he expected that. His eyes drift across the cell—at the cracks in the stone, the scars on the floor. I wonder if he knows what happened here before. If he knows who else has been locked in this cell. I wonder if he has memories here, or if it is all for me.
I wonder if he is here to watch me.
To make peace with his demons.
“Lucien says you haven’t spoken much.”
