Page 6 of When She Unravels
It’s like he’s trying to mess with her. This is part of the punishment, I realize. Whoever asked Papà to capture this girl wanted her to suffer.
My husband turns to me. “I’m going to go change. You two can use the time to get to know each other.”
The girl and I both watch him leave up the stairs, and then it’s just us. The back of my throat starts to ache. I know what’s coming. She’ll beg. They all do.
“Please, you have to help me,” she croaks out. “He’s wrong. He’s got the wrong girl.”
I take a step toward her. She flinches away, obviously not knowing what to expect from me. She’s got a dusting of freckles across her button nose and plump cheeks.
“He’s never wrong,” I say. My mouth is so dry that my tongue feels like sandpaper.
She must be thirsty too.
“Do you want some water?” I ask.
She nods.
I grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge and bring it to her. She gulps the water down while I do my best to pour it into her mouth. Up close, I can smell her. Lemon-verbena, mint, and dust. She even smells like innocence. This girl is not a threat. She doesn’t deserve to feel excruciating pain.
I look away as a shudder cascades through me. Images flash inside my head like an old slide show. Lazaro’s bliss-filled eyes when they take their last breaths. The way his pants tent at the crotch. The proud look he gives me while I’m shaking on the floor with blood all over my hands.
“Please help me,” she begs.
There’s a dull pain in my throat. “I don’t have a choice.”
I wish I did. I wish I could stop being so afraid.
“There’s always a choice. You can choose to help me.” Another tear spills down her right cheek and drips off her chin onto her shirt. “I can see you’re a good person.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip. A good person? If I was one, I’d find a way to be brave.
Lazaro told me what he’d do if I stop.
He’ll kill Lorna, and he’ll torture me.
He knows me well enough to know my desire to protect our innocent housekeeper would keep me in line.
But this girl is innocent too.
She holds my gaze, her young eyes shining with desperate determination that feels all too familiar… Cleo. She reminds me of my little sister.
She might be someone’s sister too. A daughter. Maybe a mother one day.
How can I take that away from her?
And that’s when the realization slams into me.
I can’t.
If there’s even a small chance I can get her out of this, I have to take it.
My lungs expand with a deep breath. It’s the first one I’ve taken in weeks.
“You don’t want to hurt me,” the girl says in a hushed voice.
No, I don’t. I think I’ve always known it would come to this one day. I held on for as long as I could, but I can’t do it anymore.
I’m going to get her out of here.
