Ruins of Temptation (Corium University Trilogy 4)

“I don’t. You probably saved my life.”

“Not entirely. You did a lot of that on your own.”

“So it’s really true?” She searches my face, looking for a lie or maybe some kind of resemblance she missed before.

“I want you to know I had no idea there was even a child.” I pace the room, unable to sit still for another moment. “Not until we watched that video together. I can’t tell you how shocked I was. Because I did see a woman named Charlotte, and the time we were together lined up with roughly the time you were born. Last I heard, she passed away a few years ago, I’m sorry to say.”

I rub my hands together nervously. “It was enough to make me want to look deeper into the situation. I had your DNA tested against mine. The results came in earlier today and confirmed our connection.”

“Earlier today? Before the…?”

I stop pacing. “Yes. Before the wedding. I had the honor of walking my daughter down the aisle and giving her away.” Again, I regret not telling her sooner. I should have, but I didn’t know how she would react. I draw in a deep breath. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions.”

“Only about a million. The one that stands out is why was my birth mother so afraid of you? I don’t understand.”

Straight to the point. She’s the one subject I don’t want to talk about, but more than anything, I owe her the truth. “Honestly, sometimes I feel like I used to be a different person back then. I was young and hurt and so fucking lost. I was reckless and didn’t care about anything. I’m sorry, Aspen. It’s probably not what you want to hear, but I’m glad you didn’t meet me then.” So fucking glad. Charlotte did the right thing by hiding our child from me.

“I’m glad I met you now.” Aspen’s words hit me with more force than a fifty-pound weight on my chest.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know. We have all the time in the world now that you’re safe. For now, you don’t want to keep your in-laws waiting too long. Xander’s patience is not legendarily generous.”

A tiny smile crosses Aspen’s lips. She looks hesitant about leaving as if she would rather talk more, but she also knows I’m right. If she doesn’t leave the room soon, one of the Rossi’s is going to march in here regardless.

“Thank you for speaking up when you did.”

“It was only what was right,” I assure her, keeping to myself just how far I would have gone to keep her safe.

3

DELILAH

“Oh, god, no! No, please, stop!”

No matter how hard I press my hands against my ears, it’s not enough to block out the screams. I’ve never heard screaming like this before. I didn’t know human beings could make such sounds. Like an animal, desperate, in pain to the point where they lose their humanity.

“Please!” I squeeze my eyes shut and curl into a tighter ball on the corner of the cot. Why won’t they stop? When will they stop? They’re going to torture him to death.

The question that looms larger than the others: who is it?

I have a feeling I know. I’ve never heard Matteo scream like that before, but when he sounds human, the voices are similar enough. If Quinton has Matteo, why am I still here?

I can’t let myself start asking questions like that, or else I’ll go crazy. Not that I’m not already halfway there.

Another wordless shriek tears through me. I clench my teeth and rock back and forth, humming in a vain attempt to block out the horrors happening on the other side of the wall at my back.

I’m reminded of how cold and hungry I am then; the shiver that racks through me is almost as painful as the ache in my stomach.

Quinton is doing his damnedest to break me. I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. I can’t.

I have no idea how long I’ve been here. There’s no way of telling how much time has passed. If this was a normal situation, I might mark time by the number of meals I ate. That’s not going to work here. If I went off that, I’d say it’s been maybe three days. But I know it’s been a hell of a lot longer than that. My clothes are the same clothes I was wearing when they picked me up—I’m practically swimming in them now. I can smell myself, and I hate it.

At first, I was determined. Yelling, screaming, spitting in the faces of the assholes Quinton left to keep watch over me. But over time, I’ve quieted down. It takes too much energy to do that kind of thing, and energy is one thing I’m pretty low on. That’s been the plan all along, obviously. To starve me and keep me weak and docile. I hate letting him have that small victory over me, but there’s only so much my body can handle.