Thea
The spot on the bed where Anders sat is still warm when the door to my cell creaks open again.
Man, I sure am popular today.
“Hello sweetheart,” Elder Egan coo’s as he steps in with a blush pink dress draped over his arm.
A wave of unease washes over me as I sit and watch with bated breath as the skeevy, bald-headed man steps further into the room, pressing the door shut behind him.
His long strides quickly eat up the distance between us. The scent of old books and stale smoke invades my senses as he leans close to my face, and his warm breath sends a shiver running down my spine as it unwelcomingly skims the shell of my ear. “Dinners just haven’t quite been the same without you there beside me.”
I fight to swallow back the bile that creeps up my throat as he strokes my cheek
