Page 786 of The Tempted
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Alone.
Darkness, my only friend.
My mind, my only companion.
I am confined to four walls, never to see the light of day again. The only time my body will touch the Earth’s soil is when it is buried beneath it.
Seconds feel like hours, hours feel like weeks, and days feel like years. I have no idea what day it is or how long I’ve been trapped here. By the scent of me I’m guessing it’s been a damn long time. I’m filthy, my throat is parched, and my stomach is empty. My already failing lungs are collapsing, disintegrating from the cancer and I feel as though I am suffocating. I have no strength left, not even to stand and walk to the toilet and I faintly feel the warmth flood my pants.
The pride I hung onto with all my might is gone.
I have nothing left.
I pray for God to take me but He continues to make me suffer and pay for my sins.
I close my eyes, tears fill them and leak out of the corners onto my dirty face, still caked with the G-Man’s dried blood.
They locked me away in this dungeon and threw away the key. Once a day a guard slides the square opening in the center of the door, peers inside my dark cell with one eye and checks if I’m alive. He closes it as quickly as he opens it, leaving me to die.
It’s not a peaceful death.
It’s a nightmare.
I’m haunted by those I love; those I miss. The beautiful faces I’ll never see again. The memories are so real it’s hard not to believe Grace and the girls are here with me but while my mind may not know the difference, my heart does. My heart knows they are too pure, too good and far too beautiful to be in the depths of Hell with me.
Still, I close my eyes and ignore my heart, pretending my girls are here. My senses shut down, the foul scent of urine, body odor and feces disappear. The darkness turns to light and I see my Gracie.
“Gracie?” I called, shrugging out of my tuxedo jacket, carefully hanging it over the back of the lone chair in the corner of the hotel room. I glanced around the room, spotting the candles I requested the hotel have on hand and began to light the wicks.
The soft bask of candle light sets the perfect ambiance for our wedding night. I averted my eyes back to the bathroom door that was still closed and moved to the silver ice bucket in the middle of the room. Popping the cork, the champagne pours over the neck of the bottle as the door creaked opened and the most beautiful women shyly crept out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but yards of white lace and silk.
“Wow,” I whispered, mesmerized by the beauty who was now my wife. I smiled widely, placing the bottle back in the bucket before walking toward her.
“I didn’t think it was possible but you’re even more beautiful than when you walked down the aisle.”
“I feel ridiculous,” she admitted, taking a step closer. I took her hands in mine and pulled her close.
“Why?” I asked softly, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.
“You know why,” she whispered as I leaned over her shoulder and pressed my lips to the skin just below her ear, softly peppering kisses along her neck to the silk strap of her nightgown.
“We’ll go slow,” I promised, lifting my head from her shoulder and turning my head a fraction to stare into her brown eyes. “I knew one day I’d marry you.”
I bent my knees, lifted her into my arms and spun her around, her laughter filled the air like a soft melody.
What I wouldn’t give to hear her laugh again, hear her soft voice whisper against my ear, feel her body against mine just one more time. Instead, I relive the memories and thank God they are so clear and vivid.
Then I think of my girls.
And like their mother, they too come alive within my dreams.
“I have a date tonight,” Adrianna said, sitting across the breakfast table, nonchalantly eating her cereal.
I lowered the newspaper, folded it in half and placed it on the table, lifting my coffee mug to my lips as Grace set a plate of pancakes in front of me.
“Michael?” I questioned, drenching the pancakes in syrup as I glance across the table at my sixteen-year-old daughter.
