How bad can a good girl get?
With her entire future planned out in excruciating detail, all Adelina Baker wants is to protect her little brother and maybe do things that she never thought she would along the way. And who better to teach her some bad...
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"She wears her troubled past like scars - she had been through battle and though no one could see her demons at that time, they can see the face that finally conquered them."
- Atticus
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I DON'T REMEMBER HOW I FELL ASLEEP IN DAMIEN'S ARMS or when he left the room, but the most meaningful thing that I'm sure of as I open my heavy eyelids is that this was the first time in days that I slept without nightmares.
A yawn leaves my lips as I stare at the white ceiling, everything that has happened yesterday flushing through my mind. I have a lot to think about, starting with where I will live with my brother, but the minute I think about Sammy, my heart beats fast against my chest.
I lose no time in standing up, urging to see him after what he went through, but I regret my decision at the same moment. A headache grounds on my temples, heavy and sharp, and I have to hold to the tall bed before continuing, waiting for the pain to decrease.
With a curse underneath my breath, I finally head to the bedroom where Samuel is hopefully still asleep, not giving a fuck about my wrinkled clothes, the same ones that I wore yesterday.
Apparently, Damien hasn't changed me and I mentally thank the universe for that, my scars from what Tom did to my body still taking an immense weight on me. I don't think the trauma is going away so soon.
No one is in the white modern hallway and I let out a breath in relief as I tiptoe to my brother, hoping that no one will see the state I'm in. I do not know where I am or what time is it but I'm sure the people in this house wake up early as hell. I don't even know if they sleep properly.
I wait for a sleepy childish voice that I know so well to answer when I knock in the door in front of me, but when silence reigns inside the room; I feel my heart in my throat.
God, no.
"Sammy?" I call my little brother as I enter the bright room illuminated by the sun coming from the tall windows, praying that he's okay.
The bed that takes place in the middle of the place is empty, being immaculately made, and I have to take a deep breath at the sight of it.
Where is he?
I lose no time in getting in the hallway, calling Samuel in every room I find, but he's nowhere.
I reach a marvelous marble staircase and I don't have to think twice about going to the first floor of this enormous house, each step I take making my heart slam fast against my chest.
The moment I take a left in the double-height living room, I'm met by someone, muscular hands holding my arms from falling because of the sudden impact.
When I look up to who is behind it, his cologne filling my nose instantly, I can't control a roll of eyes from the sight of perfect teeth smirking.
