The Price of Inertia (The Seven Sins #4) - Lily Zante Page 0,111
it against a stone cold wall so that it splintered into a thousand shards.
Who is she? And why did she break his heart?
I want to know.
My gaze flies across the next line, and the next, and the next. My skin begins to crawl as I read the first paragraph. I try to find myself in this protagonist. Is it a protagonist or is she the victim who dies?
I am already captivated, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t read books like this. I like Ward’s style. His words hold me captive and I can’t stop reading. I go to the next page, the plot reeling me in, the descriptions of the old house making me feel as if I’m there. I hold my hand against my thundering chest.
I should put this away.
I should put it away right now. A fear of Ward catching me mingles with the fear crawling up my spine as I read. Thump, thump, thump beats my heart.
I read on, and on. One more page, and then another.
I need to stop. But I can’t.
It’s not entirely scary, not yet, though Jamie said Ward’s horror isn’t exactly gory, it’s more the type that messes with your mind.
Jamie.
He might appreciate a glimpse. I could give him a sneak preview. Just of the first page. It could be a peace offering. Ward doesn’t need to know, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
Sliding my phone out of the pocket of my pants, I get ready to take a picture and then I stop. I can’t do this. What am I thinking? My desire to do right by Jamie—and validating it with the weak excuse that Ward won’t know—has clouded my shaky judgement. No way. I can’t do this to the man I love.
“What. The. Fuck?” Ward’s snarl bites through the air and the phone I was about to put away almost slips through my hands.
“What the hell are you doing?” he bellows.
Fear shuts down my vocal chords. It’s not what he says, it’s the way he says it. It’s the twisted look on his face.
“Well?” he yells, walking towards me with a menacing stare. My heart slips through my chest and trickles out of my belly. Ward’s gaze, once warm and inviting, now turns to ice.
“What did I tell you? Why the fuck are you snooping around?”
The sheets lie spread out, on his desk, blatant evidence of my crime. “I ...” I open my mouth but words fail me. He want’s answers and I can’t even begin to explain this.
He snatches the papers off the desk and I’m suddenly scared. I violated his rules. I’m the one who’s at fault. “I can explain.”
“You … “ his face twists, his voice thick with revulsion. “You conniving, lying little …” He can’t bring himself to spit the rest of the words out and then grabs something and hurls it across the room. It hits the wall with a SMACK. It’s only when it lands on the floor that I realize it’s my cell phone.
“What have you done!” I cry out, rushing to pick it up.
“What the FUCK have you done?” he roars back. His face is so red. I’ve never seen him so mad. I need to explain. I need to say something, do something. “I’m sorry. I ... I didn’t mean to but ...”
Ward walks over to the fireplace and throws the pile of papers from his desk into the fire. All of it.
“Noooooo!” I yell, my jaw goes slack. What has he done? He’s flipped. All his hard work. “Ward!” I rush over to his side, see the fire greedily swallowing up his neat white pages. It’s the finished manuscript. What was he thinking? I stare at him because I’m worried that he’s gone mad. He shows no emotion. His face is calm.
I don’t know whether to reach in and save what I can. “This is your book. What you’ve been working on.” I grab the poker and try to move some pages to the side, away from the heat source, but they all crumble like orange dust. “You’ve ruined it.” A cry of anguish steals up my throat.
“You ruined it,” he says coldly. The chill in his voice guts me. It’s like an ice-pick straight in my stomach. “Ward,” I touch his shoulder.
“Get. Out.” His voice is deathly quiet.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The enormity and craziness of his actions unnerve me. “Your writing sucked me in. It’s brilliant. I couldn’t stop—”