Oh, yes—I remember his voice perfectly.
I try not to look away from his eyes, even though I want to. I wonder if he knows the secret I’m keeping with me.
That I’m carrying this man’s baby and I don’t even know his name. He’s just destroyed my home, killed my father.
And he is about to kill me, too.
His hand is still on my wrist. The touch alone is enough to bring me back to the night we met.
I can still feel how his weight nestled between my thighs, pushing into me with forceful passion.
I can still sense the smoky whiskey scent of him flush against my cheek.
I can still remember the way his hands claimed me. Forceful. Irresistible. Dangerous.
This is wrong. He’s belongs to Papa’s world. He’s a monster, too.
He just killed my father. He’s probably killed countless others.
My limb
