Page 9 of Devil's Sinner

I could tell it had been a while since I ate, but food wasn’t crucial for survival - yet.

I kept walking until my muscles protested another step, and I still pushed forward, but I collapsed. I had to rest. The stars were getting more difficult to see. The sun was on the horizon. It would be a lot easier to keep going once I could see better.

My body was exhausted. The drugs hadn’t completely made their way through my system. I dragged myself over to the stream to drink, then let my head rest against a tree. My eyes closed, for what I anticipated being a brief moment, but when I opened them again, I could tell several hours had passed.

“Fuck!” I jumped to my feet and immediately regretted it, because I went back down again.

I inspected my feet. They hurt the worst, and there was a good reason why. They had gashes, splinters, and even a few small rocks embedded in them. I used the water from the stream to clean them the best that I could, then tore off parts of my pants to tie around them.

I inspected the rest of my wounds as well, taking a few minutes to clean them, then I found a sturdy stick I could use for support, and got myself back to my feet.

Violet. She was all that mattered. She endured every punishment I inflicted, and still called me Master. I damn sure wasn’t going to give up on her. I didn’t care if I tore everything off of my feet and I had to walk on the bones.

I would get to her.

I could have been more honest. I could have told her how important it was for her father’s business associates to see how farshehad fallen. I cared too much about being in control, and making her obey without question. She didn’t understand that it had a purpose.

I let my lust and pride get in the way of everything. I convinced myself that she was my prize. My perfect little submissive toy. That was my reward for pushing her away when she was too young, and protecting her from men like Matthew Hill, Steven Hawthorne and Connor Peterson.

But I failed.

“Damn it, just… Fuck!” I yelled loud enough for some birds overhead to scatter.

My body needed fuel. I scouted the shoreline until I found some honeysuckle. It was barely nourishment, but it would have to do. I sucked some of the nectar out of them, then pressed on, finding some berries that I knew I could eat. They weren’t poisonous, but they would do a number on my stomach.

The pros outweighed the cons, so I ate a couple handfuls.

Around noon, I found another hill I could climb. The sun was high in the sky, so I had to use my hand to shield my vision as I looked around, but I finally saw the familiar sight of the city in the distance.

“Wait on me, Violet.” I staggered forward. “I’m coming for you.”

Chapter 4

Violet

Atsomepoint,Istopped feeling the pain. Everything was just numb.

My wrists bled a couple of times when I twisted against the ropes and it felt like the fibers had been fused with my scabs. I used to be able to tell that my feet were dragging the floor, but I wasn’t even sure I even had toes anymore. My muscles were so weak that they couldn’t function anymore.

But I wasn’t broken.

I refused to let Connor break me, no matter how long he left me in this musty room, even if I stayed there so long I began to rot. My mind had already started. My body would be next.

If it hadn’t started yet.

I wondered what death would actually be like. Would I see the bright light and all of the people I loved, or would my sins make the flames slowly crawl along my skin until the fires of hell consumed me? I was pretty sure it was the latter that I deserved.

It was hard to remember the proud, naive, spoiled little girl that used to call herself Violet Cabot. I didn’t deserve that name anymore. My fall from grace was by design, and I could very well die before I knew who was responsible. Devlin? The boy I loved, the man I gave myself to.

The devil himself.

Or was it Connor? My sister’s psychopathic husband who simply took what he was denied. Was he the real devil? He put me here, but would he go so far as to put my father in prison? I couldn’t believe that was possible. He had a lot to lose too.

Or did he even care?

My thoughts were unable to process everything. I was getting so weak and weary that abstract chaos was the only thing left in my head. I began to see shapes and images in the darkness of my blindfold. Everything that had happened from the moment my father was arrested until Connor’s fist crashed into my skull played like a movie in front of me. Nothing made sense. All of the shapes and images faded together until I was staring at something else.

I was at a funeral.