I brought them to my nose, breathing deep. Clean. Too clean. There was no trace of her on them.
Still….
The tip of my finger ran along the elastic waist. My blood warmed.
Deciding quickly, I tucked them into my pocket and closed the drawer. Neatly folded shirts were in the next, and pants were in the bottom. I shoved the drawer with a soft growl. The room felt sterile and scrubbed.Lonely.There was nothing of her here. My search proved once again to be an exercise in futility.
Gabriella stirred, whimpering softly, and rolled onto her side.
I held my breath, glaring at her dark shape.Come on, cailín, where are they?
Everyone had secrets. Most people kept bits of themselves in their personal space. It only took a trained eye to look. Yet this place didn’t hold one personal memento of her life. No pictures framed on the dresser top, no knickknacks on the walls.
I crept to the hook on the back of the door. There was the canvas bag she had at the park. Sure enough, her journal was in there. As I began to page through it, I wondered where the others would be. People who put their thoughts on papernormally had volumes tucked away. Yet there was only one journal. Surely, she hadn’t just taken up the hobby.
But that was how it seemed.
My eyes scanned the pages, and my gut twisted. The words were those of a blithering idiot. The newest pages were the same sort of entries she’d scribbled before. There were pages and pages of shite scrawled across the lined pages. Meditations, exhortations on living a virtuous life. I didn’t believe them for a second. This didn’t match the woman with hunger in her eyes and fire in her veins. She wasn’t some meek cow with her head bowed, ready to submit to the wishes of her parents—or her husband.
A few words seemed out of place in the sentences. I hadn’t noticed the difference before, too tense over the possibility of her waking up and discovering me. But Gabriella slept like the dead after a closing shift. I kept reading, noticing the strange breaks in the cadence of her thoughts. Pausing, I reread the page. Those words that were out of place weren’t indented the same. It was as if she’d pressed the pen hard for the entire passage, but these random words that made the sentences extra long, extra wordy, were inked lighter. Going back to the top, I read just the strange words.
He is the most precious gift. We will be reunited. I’ll take him. We’ll run. Never look back.
Finally. A secret.
My molars ground together. This girl was clever. A little sneak, she thought she could have her way. The journal snapped close with a forced clap.
I pulled the panties from my pocket, rubbing the material between my fingers. If I had to judge the inhabitant by the contents of this room, I would think Gabriella was some goody two shoes.
The room was a lie.
She thought she could deceive everyone around her with the veil of piety. But what she didn’t know was that I thrived in sin. Like a hound, I’d scented it. Found the proof. And now there was nothing stopping me from tracking it to the source. Whoever was etched on her heart was dead.
It was a bad night to begin with, but seeing those coded words sent me over the edge.
Whatever she was planning, it wasn’t going to happen. I was her lord now, ready to drag her to hell with me. Stepping close to her bed, I watched her sleep. The sorrow that she wore like a pricey perfume was gone. Her face was smooth.
I wanted to see it break.
I slid my hand to my dick, palming the length as I stood over her. He liked that dark plan.Soon,I promised him. He strained, hard and aching against my jeans.
Gabriella sat up with a gasp.
Surprised, it took a split second before I reacted. Had she sensed me? I hadn’t made a sound!
Whatever. It didn’t matter. The jig was up.
I pounced.
To her credit, she struggled—hard. I pinned her easily, but not before she kneed me in the gut, making the muscles cramp. The pain sucked deep in my belly, and my dick throbbed in protest, even though he’d been out of the line of fire.
“Stop wriggling, cailín!” I hissed.
Her hot breath fanned over the glove. I felt the faint brush, despite the damaged nerve endings.
“You!” she muttered.
“Me.” I curled my fingers and ran the gloved knuckles along her jaw. “I warned you what happens to girls who tempt monsters.”
