Page 44

I wipe my hands on my pants and move around the car to get into the passenger side. Roger needs to stay behind Felix so I can keep an eye on him. I’m convinced he’s some sort of shape shifter and will likely report back to his homeland to let them know what is going on down here sooner rather than later. I know I’ve caused quite a stir in their everyday life, meaning he has a lot to let his superiors know. And I won’t take my eyes off him for a second.

Well, except now as I move to the other side of the car.

Felix said to wait on the roof, but I’m tired. I don’t want to climb up there. I don’t want to stand or sit on the hard cement. I want the comfy seat in the car! Plus, the car has music and I love music. Though, maybe I’ll listen to repeats of The Nerd Word while I wait for my handsome Felix to grace me with his voice in real life.

I’m just about to pull the door open when someone’s hand comes around my mouth.

I smile against it, loving that Felix can’t get enough of me now. He shoves me against the car so hard my chest aches, and that’s the second I realize this isn’t Felix.

I gasp, pushing against the car to escape, but whoever is holding me is too big. He’s tall, with thick arms and a squishy stomach. Not at all like Felix. Felix is perfect. Firm in all the right places. This person feels like a mountain troll!

“Hold still, darlin’.”

My body runs cold, and I freeze. But not because he told me to. I freeze because I recognize that voice. Selvor. I am in so much trouble.

“My, how I’ve missed you,” he growls in my ear, which sends way too many horrific memories through my head. Flashes of him on top of me. Holding me down. Hurting me while others laughed and cheered him on. You’d think as my husband, Xadrian would stop them. But he was always front row, giving them ideas of what to do next. I was nothing more than a toy for them to play with; to see how far they could go before I broke.

I swore I wouldn’t break. That I would do everything I could to never let them see me give up.

But I did break… I gave up. And when I was able to escape, thanks to sheer luck, I knew the only way I’d ever be okay again was if I were to leave Hell altogether.

And then I met Felix and I knew life wasn’t meant to be terrible all the time.

But now here I am again… And I’m not so naive to think I’m going anywhere but back to Hell—physically and metaphorically.

Selvor’s voice comes back but I can’t make out his words. My body goes into survival mode, and I stop. I just stop. I shut down. I don’t fight. I listen. I give up. I go numb.

Because when it comes to Xadrian and his men, no amount of fighting will save me.

If I thought my life was bad before, it’s going to be worse now. I left him… He told me if I ever left him, he’d make my life worse than it already was, and I know that was the truth.

I should have been more careful up here.

I should have listened to Rae.

Why was I so stupid to think that being here meant I was free forever?

Xadrian found me, and though I understand that, the repercussions of this haven't fully set in yet. And once they do? I’m not sure I’ll have the energy to get free.

From inside the car, Roger yowls, clawing at his cage.

I can’t tell if the little alien is trying to yell at Selvor or is cheering him on. Probably the latter. I haven’t been nice to him either. Even if he is an alien, I shouldn’t be mean, right?

Tears form in my eyes as I think about that. How was I any different to him than Xadrian was to me? The extent of my torture was different, of course. But maybe calling the animal an obese alien and making fun of his sweaters hurts as much as the physical stuff Xadrian did to me?

I mean, the sweaters aren’t even that ugly! They’re kind of cute, if you really look at them. And the colors are nice. Felix has good taste.

“I can’t wait to get you back to Hell, sweet thing.”

All the air leaves my lungs, and my body goes limp. There’s nothing left in me to fight.

So I just let go.

Hell is hot. It’s muggy. I feel like I’m walking through water even though there isn’t any water down here at all. It’s a torture tactic. Nothing down here can die—since we’re already dead anyway. So not being able to eat or drink is a way to make us uncomfortable. Everything in Hell is about torture. The heat makes you thirsty, but it’s a thirst that will never be quenched. Same with hunger. And after being topside for nearly two weeks, eating and drinking whatever I want, the pain will be tenfold.

“Your husband will be so happy to see you,” Selvor says cheerily as he shoves me forward through the gates of Xadrian’s mansion. Just the sight of it has me sick to my stomach. It’s way too big for any one person to need. Even with all his guards and servants, it’s just too damn big. “And I’m going to celebrate tonight. Want to know why, sweet thing?”

I don’t answer him. There’s no point.