Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners 3)

Gabriel yanks his arm free from my hold and takes another step back. “Get up.”

Instead of obeying the order, my palms meet the carpet, my shoulders shuddering from the effort it’s taking to not wail at his feet. “Please,” I whimper, my voice hoarse from all the fear and panic.

I won’t survive. Don’t send me back.

“Get up, Lara,” he snaps.

I scramble to my feet, a trembling mess of chaos and confusion.

“You’re not going back.” My eyes flit to his, searching for the truth in his words, then he adds, “The only way you’ll leave my house is in a coffin.”

God help me.

The sudden anger from Gabriel and all the past trauma it’s brought to the surface makes me feel faint. I rock on my feet, my back colliding with the wall. My hands slap against the plaster, so I don’t lose my balance. The breaths rushing frantically over my lips only make me feel dizzier, my lungs starving for air.

It feels like something has a tight hold on my chest, pressing and pressing until my heart flutters like a wild bird.

“Lara?”

It sounds like Gabriel’s talking through the other end of a long tunnel, then black dots dance in front of my eyes.

Gabriel takes hold of my shoulders, and through the dots, I see his face, now filled with worry instead of rage. “Breathe.”

I inhale, and as the air fills my lungs, I feel an overwhelming urge to cower against his chest and beg him to never send me away. My throat strains from not being able to cry, my eyes stinging as if tiny flames are licking at them.

“Take another breath,” he instructs while lifting his right hand to my cheek. The touch is comforting.

Instead of beating me or sending me away, Gabriel keeps telling me to breathe until the dots fade and my heartbeat slows down.

He pulls back, his eyes settling on me with something intense burning in them, then shaking his head, he yanks the door open and stalks out of the study.

Nisa rushes in, and the moment her arms wrap around me, my breath catches in my throat.

“Allah Allah, the man will give me a heart attack.” She keeps hugging me, making it much harder for me not to cry.

Needing the comfort she offers more than ever, I lift my arms and hug her back. My fingers dig into her clothes, and I bury my face in her shoulder, taking deep breaths of her flowery scent.

“I don’t want to leave,” I whimper.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Nisa pulls back, her dark brown eyes filled with concern. “Why was Gabriel Bey so angry?”

I shake my head, the strands of my hair flying wildly around my shoulders. “I don’t know. He asked why Mr. Mazur wants me back. I don’t want to leave here.”

Nisa brushes a hand over the side of my head, her determined gaze promising me she won’t let me go anywhere. “You’re a part of the family now, Lara Hanim. Gabriel Bey will never send you back. Okay?”

All I want is to be enveloped in Nisa’s motherly hug again, but instead, she takes hold of my arm and pulls me out of the study. “Let’s have some tea. It will make you feel better.”

Now that the peaceful boat I found myself on has been rocked, I feel rattled to my core.

I know Nisa said Gabriel would never send me back, but that doesn’t mean he won’t kill me. Like he said, the only way I’d leave is in a coffin.

All the warmth gathered over the past month is gone after the altercation, and I feel chilled to the bone. I’ve never wanted to cry more in my life.

I should’ve kept my guard up.

Chapter 17

Lara

The past two days, everything feels weird again, as if I just started working here.

I haven’t slept much, too worried to find any rest. Gabriel has not spoken a word to me since the altercation, and it feels as if the air keeps tensing with my impending doom.

I stare at the teapot as the water boils, wondering how much time I have left before Tymon finds me or Gabriel ends me. It’s either one or the other.

No matter how Nisa tries to comfort me, I can feel my time running out.

A sob threatens to build in my chest. It takes a lot of effort to fight the urge to cry.

“Staring at the pot won’t make it boil any faster,” Nisa says.

Nodding, I turn away from the stove to find any kind of work to keep me busy. The kitchen is already spotless, but I pick up a cloth to wipe down the counters again.

Nisa sighs, shaking her head at me, then a smile splits over her face as she looks at something behind me. I glance over my shoulder and find an elderly woman standing in the doorway.