Page 181 of Sinister

He tries to stare me down, to intimidate me, but I don’t budge. I won’t let him destroy what little life I have left. I won’t exchange one prison for another. One tyrant for a richer one.

“I will not marry Mr. Snowden. In fact, I won’t marry anyone.”

And before he can say another word, I turn on my heel and run.

I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I need to get away—from him, from this place, from all of them.

I slip through the French doors and out into the garden, desperate for air, for space, for freedom. The moment I’m outside, my legs buckle. The weight of the moment crashes into me all at once. I gasp, the air sharp in my lungs.

“Why me?” I whisper. “Why always me?”

“You didn’t listen to what I told you,” a voice murmurs behind me.

I whirl around and come face-to-face with Sin.

Dashing as always. But is he . . . real?

53

PETRA

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“You never listen, do you, Petra?” Sin cocks a brow at me.

He’s dressed in a white shirt with a black vest over it and black trousers. A few buttons at his neck are undone, revealing a glimpse of skin. He’s far too casually dressed for the party, which means he’s not here for it.

He’s here for me.

“I told you not to go looking for the creature,” he continues. “Did you?”

“You know I did. But . . . you didn’t ever tell me anything. I haven’t spoken to you in months.”

He snorts. “Do you really believe that?”

I shrug. “I already suspected those dreams weren’t really dreams, but this confirms it. Besides, I think the creature saved me in this instance.”

“Really?” he drawls.

“Oh, come on.” I roll my eyes at him. “It’s not like you don’t know. You’ve probably been watching me from the shadows, like always. You know what my father meant to do—what he and Mr. Snowden had planned. They didn’t go through with it because Mr. Snowden looked terrified. And why would he be scared . . . if not because he saw something?”

“So smart, my darling Petra.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I snap.

“I’m not. It’s a fair compliment. Although I’m still not in agreement with what you did. It was dangerous. Reckless. Why would you do something like that?”

“Because I had to know. I had to know if the dreams were real, or if I was just losing my mind.” I take a deep breath. “That’s how I’ve been feeling all this time, Sin. And it’s your fault. You’re the reason I’ve stopped caring about my life. I keep waiting for night to fall so I can sleep—so I can see you again.”

“Ah, Petra . . .” he whispers, stepping closer.

“Stop toying with me,” I mumble, my voice breaking.

“Have I ever?”

“Yes, you have. How could you think you haven’t? And the things that happened in those dreams that weren’t even dreams . . .” I’m hysterical at this point as I remember the ways in which he’d touched me, the ways in which I’d touched him. “Was it real? Or did you . . . do something to my mind?”

“No. I did not do anything to your mind.”