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Sinful Mates 1-3 novel Chapter 119

  Evelyn’s POV

  My head felt foggy from his bite, and I could feel a strong urge to fall asleep. My eyes fluttered closed as I swayed on my feet. The last thing I remember is the tingles spreading all over me as someone tried to steady me on my feet before feeling strong warm arms wrap around me as I plunged into darkness my body succumbing to exhaustion.

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  I knew I was dreaming; I knew because I had already been here before, already knew what happened next, yet I couldn’t pull myself out of the dream as I followed him toward the basement. Three weeks. I had three weeks, and I was officially free of this hell. They would age me out of the system. I could go out on my own, but the uneasy feeling of leaving Lana to this monster had been haunting me.

  I tried twice to go to the police station, each time standing out the front looking at the building that was supposed to offer protection. But would they offer protection from one of their own? He was a well-respected officer, the man with the perfect wife, perfect house, and perfect life. I was a throwaway child, the broken foster kid that he took in. The voice in my head told me they wouldn’t believe me, then the voice, telling me it was my fault, that what happened was my fault. The thought of having to go through the courts and tell a bunch of strangers what happened for an entire year, have them question every detail and scrutinize everything about my childhood, about me, the victim becoming the accused. The term innocent until proven guilty really irks me. Why must I be questioned as if I am the guilty one? So each time I turned around, not able to go through with it, not able to mention my biggest shame. That was what played on my mind when he told me to come to the basement. I knew he didn’t really need help to sort things, knew he only wanted me to go down there so he could torture what was left of my soul, to make sure I was completely destroyed beyond repair.

  That sickening feeling filling my gut as my feet touched the cold basement floor. His wife was a nurse and always worked the night shift, leaving us with this monster. I often wondered how many before me. How many more girls had he destroyed? I wasn’t sure, but I knew his next target was going to be Lana. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I left her with him, left her to this house of horrors. I watch as he undoes his belt and points to the dusty couch in the corner. Bile rising in my throat as I walk over to it. I could hear the TV upstairs above us, Lana watching cartoons, completely unaware of what was happening below her. He places his belt and gun on the mini fridge before roughly grabbing me. I tune out while he has his way with me. Only coming back to reality as he pulls my pants back up. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I hear the TV click off, knowing it was nearly bedtime.

  I could hear him talking to me, but I didn’t understand a word he said. All I could focus on was her footsteps as they went up the stairs to her bedroom. I couldn’t abandon her like that, leave her to him to do as he pleased. Before I realised what I had done, I had picked his gun. My hands trembled as I pointed it at him. He cocked an eyebrow at me before swigging from his bottle of bourbon. He laughed.

  “Hand it over, we both know you won’t do it,” he says laughing as he moves toward me. My hands shake as I turn the safety off, his eyes widening before he tries ripping it from my hands. We struggle before he backhands me, my head whipping to the side and the gun falling from my hands on the floor. He bends down, picking it up and putting the safety back on before walking up the stairs like nothing happened. Hours I sat down there before I got the courage up to go back up the stairs, my dream though felt like it was only minutes. Everything moves quickly, and next I am sneaking upstairs.

  Walking to his room, I find him passed out drunk. Running down the stairs, I grab a bottle of liquor. He always smoked in bed so it would look like an accident. It was no secret the officer was an alcoholic. Apparently, he suffered from some form of PTSD. I pour the liquor on his bed, careful to not wake him. The smell was pungent and burnt my nose. Grabbing one of his smokes from the bedside table, I light it. Smoking half of it before grabbing the bottle again and tipping it on him. He wakes immediately looking up at me half asleep. A cruel smile on his lips as he reaches for me before realising what I tipped on him. Anger blazing as I draw back on the cigarette, trying to calm my nerves.

  “Burn in hell,” I tell him before flicking it. I watch as it lands on the bed, the covers catching alight before his clothes do. He screams. I watch horrified at what I did before my brain kicked into function. He tried getting up, but flames engulfed him, could smell his burning hair as he climbed off the bed frantically trying to put out the flames. I step back, watching as everything caught alight before I run for the door. His screams will forever haunt my memory. As I ran from that room, bolting down the stairs only to remember Lana was in the room next door to his, making me run back up, but the hallway was already alight. The wallpaper was burning and peeling off the walls as I run past and into her room. Shaking her, she wakes up just as the fire alarms blare.

  I rip her from her bed in her Harry Potter pyjamas. Her eyes widen when we step into the hall and she sees the flames. I shove her toward the stairs, and she runs down when I feel something fall on me, shoving me down the stairs and I thrash, burning pain moving up my back making me scream in agony and all I can focus on is the pain as Lana screams. I writhe in agony trying to get whatever it is on me off.

  I hear voices, they sound familiar to me, getting louder and louder.

  “Evelyn, wake up, wake up.” Someone is shaking me from my dream and my eyes fly open. My heart is pounding against my chest painfully. Sweat coats my skin and my eyes try to adjust to the light. I scream trying to get away from the hands shaking me, thrashing to get him off.

  “Evelyn, it’s me. Stop.” That voice, that familiar voice ringing through my head again and my eyes focus before landing on Thaddeus. I stop looking around the room and I am not in the house of my nightmares but in my bed with my mates. Tears roll down my cheeks as I realise I am awake, no longer burning, and the searing pain dissipates.

  Thaddeus hands clutch my face. “You’re okay, you’re okay, little one. It was just a dream,” he says before pulling me towards him and into his lap. Ryland moves closer, placing his head in my lap, and I feel my breathing even out as reality comes back to me. Noticing Orion watching me from the end of the bed, an undecipherable expression on his face. Looking down at Ryland, I notice claws marks across his back, red angry lines that were nearly healed already.

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