by Elodie Colt
Let Me Burn
Six Silent Sins #3
Elodie Colt
Let Me Burn
Six Silent Sins #3
Copyright © 2020 Elodie Colt
Published by Hudson Indie Ink
www.hudsonindieink.com
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it wasn’t purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover Design: Michele Catalano
Let Me Burn/Elodie Colt - 1st ed
ISBN-13 - 978-1-913904-44-9
Contents
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Elodie Colt
Other Authors at Hudson Indie Ink
1. Ella
2. Nathan
3. Nathan
4. Nathan
5. Ella
6. Nathan
7. Nathan
8. Ella
9. Nathan
10. Ella
11. Ella
12. Nathan
13. Ella
14. Ella
15. Ella
16. Nathan
17. Ella
18. Ella
19. Luka
20. Nathan
21. Nathan
22. Ella
23. Nathan
24. Nathan
25. Ella
26. Nathan
27. Luka
28. Ella
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A Flare Of Life, The Jaylior Series prequel
Dazzle Me, The Six Silent Sins Series prequel
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Acknowledgments
I can’t believe the story between Nathan and Ella has come to an end. It was a rough but amazing journey to bring them both on paper. I want to thank everyone who gave the Six Silent Sins series a chance.
Thanks to all the beta readers and my kick-ass Street Team for all the support. You are the best!
A big thanks also goes to my PA, Giana. You are my second brain and never cease to amaze me with your organization skills. I don’t know what I would do without you.
Of course, a huge thanks to Stephanie and Blake Hudson from Hudson Indie Ink who had faith in me and made my biggest dream come true. It’s such an honor to work with you, and I can’t put into words how thankful I am for what you have done for me. You guys rock!
Another big shout goes to Sarah, my editor. I love your humor, and I love your dedication. You made this book better than I ever thought possible!
Last, but not least, thanks to everyone who bought my book.
Love, Elodie
About the Author
Elodie Colt is a USA Today bestselling Paranormal and Contemporary Romance author from Austria. When she’s not busy writing books that go beyond run-of-the-mill alpha stories, she spends her time binge-watching the latest Hollywood blockbuster, playing the guitar, or hitting the gym. The fact that German is her mother tongue didn't keep her from giving her dream to publish in English a chance. Whatever she writes, she has one goal - to make you cry, laugh and wet at the same time ;)
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Keep in touch
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Also by Elodie Colt
SIX SILENT SINS (Contemporary Steamy Romance)
Make Me Shine
Watch Me Glow
Let Me Burn
The JAYLIOR Series (Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy)
A Flare of Hope
A Flare of Power
A Flare of Sorrow
A Flare of Love
The Jaylior Series Box Set
Standalones
In Blood We Trust
Other Authors at Hudson Indie Ink
Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy
Stephanie Hudson
Sloane Murphy
Xen Randell
C. L. Monaghan
Sci-fi/Fantasy
Brandon Ellis
Devin Hanson
Crime/Action
Blake Hudson
Mike Gomes
Contemporary Romance
Gemma Weir
Elodie Colt
Ann B. Harrison
To Stephanie and Blake Hudson—two great authors and amazing people. I can’t thank you enough for making me a part of your publishing team. You’ve made my biggest dream come true!
1
Ella
Anxiety has a taste.
Sharp, bitter, and strangely invasive like the burnt toast I forced down this morning when I got that stupid thing from the drug store. The tang intensifies in my mouth with each passing second that I stare at the thin, white stick in my hand.
I drum my fingers on the basin behind me, my foot bouncing on the bathroom tiles. I don’t blink. My stare scorches a hole into the display. Fuck, it’s not even a display. Just a crap-ass small, oval window that has been blank for the last five minutes.
Cocking my head to the side, I squint. Is that a second vertical stripe appearing on the screen? It could be just a trick of my eyes. I could swear the gray is a tad darker there, but when I tilt my head to the other side, the picture stays the same.
One gray stripe.
Shuddering out a breath, I check my watch. Six minutes. Waiting time is over.
“Not pregnant.”
My words bounce off the tiles, echoing in my brain. Okay, rewind, please. Wouldn’t the usual line in this case be ‘Thank God?’
Thank you, God, for agreeing with me that I’m as ready to become a mother as a pimp is to become the pope. Thank you, God, that I’m not carrying the child of a man whose face I’ve never seen. Thank you, God, for doing the world a favor and not thrusting a child into the hands of someone who wanted to kill a man who might—sooner or later—kill her.
And yet, that’s not what I feel when that ugly, white stick starts to shake in my hands. Because now, a different taste explodes in my mouth, harsh and coppery and disturbingly acrid.
Disappointment.
Grunting, I fling the plastic stick into the basin. My butt cheeks already show red dents from the toilet seat, and I dart up, shoving my panties up my ass and flushing the toilet.
“You need to get your brain checked,” I mumble to myself as I turn on the faucet to wash my hands.
It’s been three weeks since my last Silent Sins date with Ross. We hadn’t used a condom in our haste, and I wasn’t hot on waiting for my missed period to find out if something was growing inside me. I’ve been feeling ill ever since, along with the constant urge to throw up, so I figured I’d better hedge my bets before I nibbled on the next vodka bottle. Turned out it was just my stomach punishing me for the gallons of ice cream
I’ve wolfed down the last few weeks.
With an angry shake of my head, I grab a handful of care products and throw them into a vanity bag. The dragonfly pendant bounces against my breastbone with my jerky movements.
I wonder what Luka would do if he ever saw a baby in my arms. My own flesh and blood. Would he finally accept that he will never be a part of my future? Or would it flip the last switch inside his deranged brain, and he’d kill us both?
‘eNtimacy assumes no liability if you get pregnant,’ Kate had told me that day I signed up for Silent Sins, and I clearly remember my mental response.
No worries, I’d thought. Hell will freeze over first.
Closing my eyes, I drill the heel of my hand into my forehead. My phone lying on the windowsill knock-knocks with an incoming Silent Sins message, but I don’t react to it. Not visibly. Only my body responds to the sound, my pulse speeding up inside my ribcage like a sports car shooting out of the pits on a racetrack.
I’d heard Ross’ heart breaking that night I pressed the yellow button. It cracked along with mine when I walked out the door. Since then, Ross has sent me dozens of messages on repeat. Apologies, promises, vows. I left them unanswered. We are over. The sooner we come to terms with it, the better.
‘I love you.’
It’s as if my brain has auto-recorded the three words whispered into my ear that night, replaying it with painful clarity. Every time they tumble in my head, a leaden knot in the shape of a mace wedges right behind my tongue. I swallow, but the motion feels like tearing gashes down my throat.
‘I wouldn’t have said those words if I hadn’t meant them. Every fucking letter.’
I’d told him to take his words back. To think about what he’d just said because he couldn’t possibly mean them. He came to know a side of me no one else got to see, but still, he only got to see one version of me. The one without a face, two fake names, and a noncommittal attitude. He only knows the bits and pieces I revealed, and a few charred ones he’d clawed out of me in the Room, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. And probably a shit-ton more he’d dredged up since he did some digging behind my back.
But he still doesn’t know me. Not the whole me.
Not the person I will always be, no matter how many oceans I’ll cross or how many identities I’ll adopt.
‘Ella…’
Just four letters, but the impact they had when they rolled over his tongue had been mind-blowing. I hadn’t realized until then how much I longed for him to say my name. I’d felt each purred syllable taking roots somewhere deep inside my chest. I loved it. I hated it.
And now, I can’t fucking get it out of my head.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Despair is written all over my face. My gaze drops down to my dragonfly pendant, and I lift my hand, tracing the contours of gold. Susan McElroy told me at the fundraiser it had been a piece from her collection. Her shop is just a few blocks down on Brighton Beach boulevard. Does Ross live close by? He said he lived in a highly secured building on one of the top floors. Brighton Beach isn’t that fancy, so chances are he’s from somewhere more central to Brooklyn. Or Manhattan. Or Queens. Who the fuck knows?
I open the clasp behind my neck and remove the pendant, letting it drop into my vanity bag without a second glance.
‘We crossed paths some time ago,’ he admitted that day. ‘Shortly after New Year.’
Where had I been back then? Holed up at home mostly, nurturing my system with 40% alcohol straight from the freezer, sleeping pills, and unhealthy self-pity. A few times up in Manhattan, too, as far as I recall. He said he’d recognized my tattoo. He must have been quite close to make out the image of a dragonfly.
I glance down at the branding on my wrist. It’s unique, for sure, but that alone couldn’t possibly lead him to make the connection to me, could it?
Sighing, I shake my head. There’s only one thing you can’t hide in the Room—your voice. Add the Russian accent that makes my ‘r’ rumble like a purring wildcat, and a smoky voice that rivals Joe Cocker’s, and it will point to only one person in the western hemisphere. If Ross had ever been close—close enough to hear a simple ‘hello,’ a soft chuckle, fuck, even a low moan—he would have recognized it right away.
“Then why didn’t you talk to me?” I whisper to my reflection, hating how wistful I sound.
You know why, my rational voice answers.
As soon as Ross realized who I was, he went on his mission. He said he hadn’t followed me that day he recognized me, but I know he’d followed me somehow. Snooped around to dig out my name, my birthday, hell—maybe even my address. He knew about Luka, knew how much I’d suffered and what I’d given up to escape him, and yet he’d followed in his footsteps. Stalked me down just the same. Fucked me under the pretense that I was still an unknown identity to him, that he knew as much about me as I knew about him. Lied to me for months, abused my trust, and played on my insecurities.
So, why on earth should I believe him when he said he loved me?
Because deep down, you know he spoke the truth.
I huff, closing the zipper of the vanity bag and tossing it onto the windowsill. It doesn’t matter. Perfect match or not—I need to purge him out of my system. Luka will never let him off the hook. He already got too close once. Ross told me he’d ‘dealt’ with him. Granted, Luka hadn’t contacted me ever since, but I know him. As long as he’s still alive, he’ll crawl on all fours to get to me, no matter how much Ross will threaten, torture, or maim him. We can never share a relationship as long as Luka is lurking in the shadows. I would constantly worry about Ross’ safety, fearing for his life as soon as he stepped out onto the streets, waiting anxiously for him to come home.
And Ross? Knowing his fierce need to protect me, he would keep me on a short leash—attaching bodyguards to my ass, watching me twenty-four seven, never leaving me out of sight. I would live in a gilded cage—safeguarded, sheltered, loved—but a cage nonetheless.
My phone knock-knocks again, and I sob when I fetch it to log into the Silent Sins app. As long as I feed Ross hopes and empty promises, he’ll always try to woo me into a relationship.
Better to go for a clean cut. It will heal faster.
Devonport: Leave me alone. We’re over.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, fixing my stare at Kate’s door. Guess this will be the last time I’ll see her office from the inside.
“You can do this.” I give myself some mental pep talk before I lift my hand to knock and step inside.
Brown corkscrews bounce on Kate’s head when she turns to me. The two inches of brighter skin on her temple is the only sign of the awful attack last year.
“Ella.” A warm, welcoming smile breaks out on her lips. “It’s so good to see you.”
She sails over to me to pull me into a hug. I try to relax when she squeezes me, but it seems I can’t fool her. Pulling back, she regards me with a frown.
“Is everything okay?”
I crack a fake smile. “Uh, yeah. I came here to… talk to you about something.”
My demure tone conveys that we’re about to have a difficult conversation, but she just nods and asks, “Coffee?”
“No, thanks. This won’t take long.”
Throwing me a leery glance, she glides toward her desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite her. “What can I do for you, Ella?”
I sit down in the leather chair, cradling my helmet in my lap. Kate probably thought I came here to extend my Silent Sins subscription. She won’t be happy to hear that I’m about to do the opposite.
I swallow down the dryness in my throat, thrusting out my chin. “I’m here to report a breach of privacy.”
Kate arcs an eyebrow, leaning forward and entwining her hands on the desk. “I take it this has to do with you pressing the yellow button last time you were in the Room with Ross?”
Gripping my hands together, I give her a curt nod.
She squints her eyes, peering at me. “How did he invade
your privacy?”
My voice is strangely off when I give her my forced reply. “He uncovered my identity against my will.”
“And by uncovered, you mean… he dug up the information by force?”
“Yes. I never told him my name nor anything else that could give away who I am.”
“How did he find out, then?”
I grimace. “He claims we’ve crossed paths some time ago. He recognized my tattoo and did some digging. Now, he knows my name and possibly everything that goes with it.”
The pause following my response unnerves me. Kate regards me as if not trusting my sentiment. As if I’m about to make a big mistake.
Not a mistake. The one right thing I should have done months ago.
“Ella,” she starts in a cautious tone, “you know our terms. Silent Sins assumes no liability if you ever stumble into your match outside of the Room.”
“We didn’t stumble into each other,” I argue. “He didn’t talk to me. I didn’t even have a fucking clue he was in my periphery. He had a hunch who I was and chased my ass to dredge up everything there was to know about me.”
She raps a finger onto her desk, analyzing me with a probing gaze before leaning back in her chair.
