Page 47 of Sinful Hearts

No one else to save me.

Just me, my murderous husband, and an owl hooting in the background.

All that’s around me are predators, always prepared to scoop down on their prey and rip them apart.

Emilio carries me like I’m light cargo, almost weightless.

Is this how easily he carries dead bodies around before he buries them?

Surely, that’s how he disposes of them, right?

Is that how he’ll dispose of me?

He grunts when we reach his SUV, yanks the passenger door open, and tosses me inside. I’m out of breath as he slams the door in my face.

I immediately try opening the door, but it’s locked.

Scooting back, I attempt to kick it.

Nothing.

I kick the window next.

Same result.

So, I keep trying.

Persistence is always key.

I stop kicking when the driver’s door opens. I glance over my shoulder to find Emilio slipping behind the steering wheel and shutting the door.

“You kick my door again, and you’ll ride home strapped to the hood,” he warns. “I’ll be sure to drive fast and swerve too.”

His eyes lock on me, and he works his jaw, waiting for me to tell him how I’d like my ride back to my prison.

“Home?” I huff. “That isn’t my home.”

He takes my response as not wanting to ride on the hood and shifts the SUV into drive. I grip the seat belt, ready to wrap it around my body, but I am thrown forward when he punches the gas.

My head nearly whacks into the dashboard, and he only tsks as he veers back onto the road.

“Rude,” I grumble under my breath before strapping myself in.

“You say that isn’t your home,” Emilio starts.

“It isn’t.” I cross my arms as my back relaxes against the heated leather seat.

“Where is your home then?” He keeps his eyes on the road.

I recite the address of where I slept before my life was taken away from me and I was sold off.

“That house sold yesterday. Below asking price.” He shakes his head and tsks again. “Someone really wanted to let that place go.”

I rear back, pressing my hand to my chest. “No way. I’ve lived in that house my entire life.”

“Someone else will live there now. Your mother sold it.” His attention returns to the road, and he lowers his speed. “Looks likeour homeisyour only home.”

I shut my mouth, the energy to argue dying inside me.