You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 139

"Blayne," I rubbed my temple, squinting through the light.

He stood there in a blood-red turtleneck, hands hidden behind his back. His eyes weren't warm like they usually were.

"Veronica isn't home. She's still in New Portland."

Wait, shouldn't he know that? I was sure they'd been in touch.

"I didn't come here for her. There's just something I need to discuss with you."

Oh...

I thought of turning him down since my head was staging a rebellion, but he looked very serious and I figured I wouldn't want to miss what he had to say.

"Okay." I turned, leaving the door open for him. "My house is a mess right now. I—"

The words sliced into a shriek as I was yanked back. My spine slammed into him, his arm locking around my throat like a steel band.

"Blayne! What're you doing!?"

I saw the tip of a syringe before it bit into my neck. The sting spread, followed by a rush of dizziness that hollowed out the world.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, love. It'll be over soon." His voice slipped into distortion as the floor came rushing up. Darkness claimed me with the heavy thud of my body hitting the ground.

‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡

What did betrayal feel like again?

Like swallowing glass. Like realizing the knife in your back came from the hand you once held. Ugly and cruel, made worse because it always came from the ones you trusted not to wield it.

I should've been used to it by now. Men had betrayed me multiple times, and the sting had dulled from a blade into something more like a bruise. Still there. Still aching. Just… not fatal anymore.

A groan climbed out of my throat as my lashes dragged open. Everything weighed me down. My eyes were heavy, limbs heavier, the air itself pressing on my chest. Even my own body felt borrowed.

I forced my eyes to stay open. The first thing they landed on was the face of the newest traitor in my collection.

He sat perched on a stool in front of me, framed by a bare room that had nothing but a bed and a few scattered belongings you could count on one hand. His smile was easy; the kind of smile that might've charmed me once. Now it just made my skin itch.

"Hello, Rali. Slept well?"

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