You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 109

Fresh tears spilled over and I curled onto my side.

Void froze just inches from my feet and I felt the frosty tension oozing from him, chilling every nerve it touched.

Fear scrambled my mind into a blur. I shut my eyes tight and was dragged back to that nightmare: Grayson sedating me, him touching me while I laid weak and defenseless.

"He tried," I sniffled. "Drugged me and... and almost had his way, but Vlyrissa stepped in and saved me. He didn't succeed."

Void was quiet and cold. I didn't want to imagine the thoughts running through his mind..I broke into more sobs at the realization that I'd just given Grayson away. Another life balanced on the edge because of me.

No. Not Grayson Knightley. Not someone I'd known for this long.

Grayson might've been an asshole, but he had a legacy. He's been hardworking. I'd hate to see him lose everything to death.

"He didn't touch me," I pleaded through the tears, my eyes wide open now. "He...He only attempted. It was a foolish mistake a—and he already apologized for it." My voice trembled into nothing. "Please. Please. He didn't touch me."

Void's response never came. When he turned toward the door, my panic clawed higher.

"Please! Where are you going!? Grayson didn't touch me. You can't hurt him!"

I cried and screamed behind him, but I was completely ignored as he walked out the door.

*******

The creak of the door wrenched me out of my shackled sleep.

Even blinking hurt. My lashes stuck together, my lids heavy, but I forced them open. A sliver of sunlight slipped through the tiny window, falling across my face, but it didn't warn me. It only reminded me of how deep the cold had sunk into my bones.

I heard footsteps and only slid my eyes. I knew it wasn't him. It wasn't smoke and whiskey.

The steps stopped in front of me. I caught the faint rustle of fabric as the figure crouched.

She clicked her tongue. "You look quite pathetic."

My eyes opened again to meet coffee ones and hair tugged into a no-nonsense ponytail. She was wearing brown combat pants today with a cream top.

She pulled out a blade, reached behind me and sliced through the cord binding my wrists. I almost let out a whimper. My hands had been bound all night and being free actually hurt.

I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. My skull throbbed as though it had been used as a drum, and my limbs ached with the heaviness of someone who'd been buried alive and dug herself out.

"You should clean up," Katya said as she rose to full height. "I brought some food."

I was starving. But the thought of food did nothing to entice me.

I heard Katya walk toward the door.

"Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, green eyes, but it's hard to keep a tab on the boss' location." Her response was almost mechanical. But I was sure she knew the answer to what I was asking.

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