Page 37 of Not Her Day to Die

My hand reaches out to touch her. Jane’s daughter. The girl with the yin and yang tattoo. My murderer. But I pass right through her. “Why did you kill me?”

Luna narrows her eyes. “You don’t remember?” She lets go of the sheet, standing to her full height. “There are worse outcomes than death, Sunday.”

Stomping comes from above.

“You should leave before they get here. It isn’t pretty.”

I want to argue, but then Luna starts screaming. It is so loud that I cover my ears to escape the noise.

It hurts in a way I can’t explain. As if each second of her scream is a direct stab at my psyche.

The door to the prison slams open, and I catch sight of Rayden before screwing my eyes shut.

***

“You’re awake.” The voice is close.

Too close.

It is sickly syrup as it enters my ears.

I want to cover them, but I cannot move, my arms are restrained at my sides. I open my mouth to scream but it is garbled. I blink but my vision doesn’t clear.

The man tsks. “Settle down,girl.”

But his words have the opposite effect. I have never heard this man speak in person, but I have on TV, on the news.

Sterling Maxwell Thorne.

I attempt to thrash and break free from my restraints.

Being blinded, bound, and gagged in the presence of this man is terrifying in a way I have never experienced.

There are worse outcomes than death, Sunday.

The thought presses into my brain, but it isn’t my own. A distant memory that cycles through me a few times.

I still.

“That’s good, dear.”

Cold fingertips brush against my bare cheek, and I do everything I can not to flinch.

“You’ve caused quite a fuss. Stirred up the whole town.” The fingers press further into my skin, their nails biting into the flesh there. “My son died chasing after you. My other fell deeper into his addiction. And then I was forced to finally take ownership of my third. Quite the scandal. But you’re just a stupid little girl.”

I contain the grunt of pain as a fist lands in my gut.

“I want nothing more than to toss you into a pit and leave you to rot, but first I need to use you. Show the outside that you weren’t a victim, but a naïve girl in love. That you were the unfortunate obsession of my eldest’s mental breakdown and got caught in the crossfire.”

Another punch, this time it lands directly where I was shot.

I cannot contain the gasp of pain.

“A gunshot takes time to heal, doesn’t it? First you were locked away in that hospital, and then the brothers kept you under lock and key. But finally, my patience won out.”

Lips press against mine. The smell of copper and decay makes its way down my throat.

Tears well in my eyes the longer the kiss continues, but I can’t do anything to stop it.