Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I removed my dirty shirt, sweatpants, and underwear and tossed them in the trash. They were littered with holes and blood. I was relieved to be rid of them. My skin was crusted with dirt and blood, and I didn’t even want to think about how badly I must smell. I stepped into the shower but hesitated before turning on the water. Shivers crept up and down my spine, remembering how I’d been doused with ice-cold water in the last six months. How painful it had been when the jet had hit my skin. My fingers shook as I gripped the faucet. It was just water. I had longed for a shower for months, so I wouldn’t let fear stop me. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and turned on the water. Warm water pooled down on me, making me gasp and my body tense in expectation of pain. But the rain shower released water like a caress on my skin, and after the few moments that it took for my pulse to slow, I relaxed. I washed my hair three times before I felt as if it was clean after months of neglect, but I couldn’t untangle it with my fingers. I hoped I wouldn’t have to cut it off. After another fifteen minutes in the shower, I felt clean for the first time in a long time. I almost felt like past Amelia. I dried myself with a fluffy towel, wincing a couple of times when I touched tender spots. I wiped the steam off the mirror to regard my reflection. My ribs protruded, and my always only moderate curves were almost nonexistent. I was too thin, too weak, too bruised. I trailed my fingers over the bruises on my arms, wincing at the sharp twinge in my wrist. With the towel wrapped around my body, I tiptoed toward the door. I didn’t have any clothes.
I opened the door a crack and peered out to find Nestore still where I’d left him. His tall body looked frozen. In the light of the setting sun streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Nestore looked like he had fallen from the sky. The golden lights caught on his many scars, burn marks, and bruises. His head was tilted forward, and at first, I feared he was still staring at the bone in his hand, but his eyes were closed.
I padded toward him. He briefly tensed, then relaxed, but didn’t open his eyes. When I reached him, I put a hand on his bare shoulder blade. “It’s over. You survived. We survived. We’re free.”
His eyelids peeled open. “Free?”
I swallowed hard. “You can break through the shackles of the past.”
A sad smile tugged at his lips. “Not yet.” He raised a bloody hand but stopped with his fingertips an inch from my cheek. “It’s not over, Amelia. This is only the beginning of my long path to revenge. It’ll be cruel and merciless.”
A knock stopped me from telling him that revenge would only drag him further down into darkness. Nestore stepped in front of me, barring me from view as he opened the door to Nino, who carried a first-aid kit and a heap of clothes.
Nino scanned Nestore, who still looked like he’d risen from the depths of hell. Nino had cleaned up roughly and put on a new shirt, judging by its bloodless state. “You need to shower before I look at your injuries. I can start with her.”
Nestore pushed me gently back and made room for Nino to enter, but always kept his body between the other guy and me. “I’ll be present when you treat Amelia.”
“If we meant you or her harm, we would already have caused it, Nestore.”
“I’ll stay.”
Nino held out a heap of unfamiliar clothes. “I took them from your stepmother. Your father burned your belongings.”
I swallowed my sadness. Not so much about the clothes, but about the two photographs of my mother and me. “Thanks,” I said as I took the clothes and returned to the bathroom.
As expected, the clothes were too big. Flavia had more curves than I did, but she was five feet five like me, so at least they weren’t too long. I picked a wrap dress that I could bind tightly so it wouldn’t slip off me. The panties were loose but stayed in place. When I emerged from the bathroom, Nestore took me in as if I were an apparition. I flushed.
“Let me look at your wrist,” Nino said, unimpressed. I held it out despite Nestore’s sudden tension. He shadowed Nino as he grabbed my arm. I bit my lower lip at the pain in my wrist and cried out when he moved it up and down.
Nestore released a sound that could only be described as a growl and raised the bone a couple of inches.