Page 149 of Sinful Lord

Endless horrible outcomes race through my melting mind as I try to force myself to concentrate. What’s the next step?

The answer quickly becomes clear, but not before I hear a vibrating ping come from behind me.

The sound tears me from my nightmare.

When I look over my shoulder, Maksim is staring down at his cell phone. The white light illuminates his weathered face as it twists from shock to horror… before finally settling on rage.

“You fucking bastard,” he rumbles.

Those dark eyes tear off the screen and set onto me.

“What?”

My feet stay planted in place as Maksim takes an aggressive step forward.

“You fucking bastard!” he roars. “I can’t believe I was starting to trust you….”

That’s the last thing I hear before the butt of his gun comes crashing down into my temple.

The first hit merely stuns me. The second one sends me to my knees. I watch my blood drip to the stained floor, too shocked to react. A ringing fills my ears. Black spots blur my vision.

The final blow turns off the lights.

27

Melina

The bright morning sun does little to lighten the darkness I wake up to.

All the questions and conflict from last night still weigh me down. They sit like an angry boulder on my chest as I turn over in bed and stare at my laptop.

It’s closed. And it’s grey shine seems so cold compared to the shimmering lake outside.

Taking a deep breath, I wallow in a potent stew of regret... and relief.

Still. the longer I stare, the louder the regret goes.

With a jittery sigh, I reach out and open the laptop. I’m quickly met by a reminder of my monumental decision.

The email chain between my brother and I fills up the screen like a searchlight.

I have one unread message. It’s from him.

My stomach drops. I look away.

For what feels like an eternity, I stare aimlessly off into the distance. The blue lake outside glimmer’s like faultless gold.

All the while, a storm rages inside of me.

With a conscious effort, I force myself to look back at the laptop.

Last night, a few hours before I passed out from exhaustion, I received the first reply from my brother. Rian, clearly typing quickly, assured me he was on his way. He told me he loved me and missed me and that he would fix whatever problems I had.

There was no judgement in his response, no anger or disappointment, only relief. Though, I swear I could sense his frustration in every word. That had just made my storm churn all the harder. A few minutes later, he’d sent a follow up email.

Rian asked if there was a webcam on the computer I was using, so I could prove it was really me and that I was alright.

I told him there wasn’t any webcam. I promised that I was fine, at least physically.