GHOST (Boston Underworld Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

him.
    I already know that Arman will not come through. Because I have designed it that way. And yet when Viktor holds up his glass to toast, the traitor inside of me toasts him back.

4
Talia
    A rman announces that he will be away on business. It’s a rare break for me, and I should feel relief. But I never feel anything. My world has returned to normal. White noise. A dissociative static. Numbness blankets me, and I try to forget that I’ve only just started counting my pills again. There are too many days yet to replenish my stash.
    I have this plan. It is the only thing I have. The only motivation that breathes life into me from one day to the next. I will be the one to set myself free. It will be my choice. Time does not matter. Time does not even exist in this place. Or in my heart. Only the light in the distance. The angels waiting for me on the other side.
    I’ve built a wall of invisible armor around myself. And it works almost all of the time. There is no warmth, no fear, no pleasure. Not even in the smallest thing. But I do still experience sorrow on occasion, so deep and violent that it feels as if I am an endless chasm of despair. And anxiety. I experience that too from time to time. There is only one cure for someone like me. I accepted this truth long ago. But it’s a hard concept to explain to anyone else. Feeling numb, yet sad and anxious at the same time. They are three conflicting emotions, and by definition, I shouldn’t be able to feel them together. But I do.
    I want there to be nothing at all. Ever again. No pain. No sadness.
    Just nothing.
    It is the only way. And I won’t let go of this notion. I won’t give up. It’s the only hope that lives in the barren landscape of my soul. The only true freedom I will ever have. The course has been set, and deviation is not an option for me.
    This is the thought that carries me through. The only thing that carries me through.
    ***
    There are seven days in Arman’s absence. I don’t leave my room, and the only time I see another soul is when Karolina comes to my door. She uses Arman’s leave as an opportunity to take out her hate on me. I rarely get to eat when he’s away, and she takes advantage of my already battered face by hitting me every time she pays a visit. Even if I wasn’t shackled to the wall, I doubt I could find the strength to fight back anymore. My body is thin and weak. I don’t need a mirror to know that.
    It only grows weaker with every passing day. I welcome that weakness. And her fists too. There is always a chance she will go too far.
    But it never happens.
    On day four, I hear her arguing with someone outside my door. It’s in Russian, so I can’t understand the words, but it’s the voice that’s familiar. The voice that belongs to the man I now know to be Alexei Nikolaev. The door cracks open, and I can only recognize the distorted shape of his figure from beneath my swollen eyes. His footsteps are soft as they approach, but the words out of his mouth are harsh.
    I don’t know what he says to Karolina. But she doesn’t reply.
    He kneels before me, his fingers gentle on my cheek again.
    “Did she do this to you?” he asks.
    I don’t know why, but I want to answer him. I hate him. But the kindness of his touch dissolves my armor, if only for a second. My lips open, but they are too cracked to speak. I haven’t had water all day. It takes me several tries to get the word out.
    “Both.”
    He nods. And then rises to his feet. There is a blurred flash as he moves towards Karolina and slams her into the wall with his hand around her throat. I can only listen to the harsh cadence of his words, not understanding them.
    Karolina nods, the sound of her blubbering satisfying me in a way I have not felt before.
    And then, he is gone.
    For the next three days, Karolina delivers three meals a day and does not touch me again.
    When Arman arrives home, his mood is fouler than usual, and I don’t even see it coming. He blasts into my