Reparation of Sin by A. Zavarelli EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: A. Zavarelli
- Language: English
- Genre: Gothic Romances
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
IVY
I am blind.
I reach up, my wrists bound, to touch the blindfold. Instinct.
A hand captures one arm. Strong. Cold. I smell leather and realize it’s a
glove.
“Keep it on,” he orders.
I nod, but I’m not sure if he can make that out because I’m shaking so
badly. The dampness of this place has gotten into my bones, the stone cold
beneath my bare feet, dirt wet between my toes. I smell a forest. Is that
possible? Where am I?
“What’s happening?” I ask for the hundredth time since he brought me
to this cellar-like space.
“You take it off while I’m here, and I’ll bind your arms behind your
back again. You don’t want that.”
“No,” I agree although I’m not sure he was waiting for my reply. I’m
sure he doesn’t care.
I’m still dressed at least. Though the gown is ruined.
Has it been hours or days since he took me? Hours or days since
Santiago lay dying—dead—on the floor of the formal dining room set for
an elaborate, elegant dinner. That was ruined too. Tables and chairs turned
over. The finest crystal shattered in the chaos when the lights went out.
Dead.
“Where is Santiago?” I ask, knowing he won’t tell me. He has hardly
spoken to me since he brought me here. “Where am I?”
I hear him move around and turn my head to follow the sound even
though I can’t see him. He’s careful not to touch me, and when I feel him
close, feel his clothes brush against me, I shudder and pull away.
But when I hear him open the heavy metal door, I rush toward it, arms
outstretched even though I know there isn’t anything to fall over. I’d
managed to get the blindfold off before he’d come back.
“Wait!”
Powerful hands close around my shoulders, catching me. Fingers dig
into bare flesh, my body forced to a jarring stop.
“Please!” I cry out, tears wet on the blindfold. “What’s happening?
Please just tell me what’s happening!”
He makes a sound from deep in his throat. A groan. Like I’m a
nuisance. Like he doesn’t have time for me.
Then he shouldn’t have kidnapped me.
“Santiago,” I start, clearing my throat when I choke on his name. “My
husband.” Another pause. “He’s…is he…?” I can’t say it.
“Eat. If you don’t eat the food, the rats will come to have it.”
“Rats?” I panic.
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