Saint (Mercy Book 2) by JB Salsbury

Author:JB Salsbury [Salsbury, JB]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Saint
Publisher: JB Salsbury
Published: 2018-10-20T18:30:00+00:00

AFTER A HOT bath, my head still hurts, my face is sore, and the cut on my lip came open during my furious scrubbing to rid myself of the evil that touched me. I slip on one of the white robe-like sleeping gowns and crawl between soft sheets that carry the scent of detergent and dust and quickly fall asleep.

A soft female voice wakes me from a dreamless rest. Her face isn’t familiar and she refuses to meet my eyes. Whether she is uncomfortable or afraid, I’m not sure. She sets down a tray of roasted meat and dry bread. Starved as I am, I eat everything within minutes and fall back to sleep before the woman leaves the room.

With a full belly, my dreams come crashing on in Technicolor. Milo reaching for me and never making contact, me slipping off the edge of a cliff I’m unable to hold onto until I wake up in a pool of sweat tangled in my gown.

I sit up, breathing heavily, and wipe the tears that streak down my face. “Just a dream.”

I get up and pull the sweat-soaked fabric off over my head. I look down at my body to see bruises in all stages of recovery—some blue and black, others ringed with yellow.

How long have I been here? On instinct, I look toward the window, half expecting to see the sun before remembering there’s nothing but a brick wall. I cross to it and press my cheek to the cool glass, looking up to see the sky is purple. From sunrise or sunset, I don’t know.

I grab another gown and slip it on, then I make my bed and sit cross-legged on it. I never thought I would be back here, and despite the many weak moments when I wished I could be back here, back where life is simple and safe, now that I’m here, I’m frantic to be free again.

I drop my head into my hands. “I’m so sorry, Milo. I never should’ve left.”

What must he be feeling right now? Is he searching for me? Or does he think I’m dead? I drop back on my bed and stare at the rickety ceiling fan spinning in slow circles. I need to get out of here. But first I need to figure out exactly where I am.

My fingers drum against my belly as a plan takes shape. It’ll take some time, but if I play this right, I might be able to walk out of here a free person.

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