Page 122 of Ruthless Sin

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I don’t look at her.

Still humming.

I walk the rest of the hallway.

My legs are barely working.

I reach my room. I open the door. I walk inside.

I close the door.

I don’t lock it.

I’ve never locked this door.

I’m not going to lock it now.

I cross to the bathroom.

Italian marble. The rainfall head fixed high, the way this whole house is built for men taller than me.

I turn the water on. Hot. As hot as it goes.

I rip off his shirt. Throw it on the floor.

I step under the water.

It’s too hot. It burns.

I don’t care.

I grab the soap. I scrub.

My arms. My chest. My stomach. Where he was inside me.

Everywhere he touched.

I scrub harder.

My skin turns red.

I keep scrubbing.

I need him off me.

I need him gone.

I scrub until my skin is raw.

Until the water at my feet runs pink.

And I hum.

Tonkaya Ryabina.

The lullaby Yelena sang to me when I couldn’t sleep.

When I was small and the world was still safe.

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