Chapter Three
A strong desire gripped me. I wanted to shake Roland Teach awake and squeeze the truth from him, but something prevented it. Perhaps I was torturing myself. Or maybe I was just a coward. There was too much to digest. I wasn’t ready to face the man, either sleeping or awake, alive or dead.
I looked down at the bottle in my hand, craving the familiar burn followed by numbness. I wanted desperately to forget all of it.
But I knew I couldn’t numb these feelings no matter how much I drank. Instead, I stepped out of the bedroom, closed the door and dropped the bottle onto the sofa.
I paced, restless. No desire to stand still, but the movement was making me dizzy. I dropped back into the couch and stared at the bottle of water begrudgingly, waiting for the caged assassin to wake
