Page 69 of Enslaved
16
Greece
Weeks later…
THE BELL ABOVE THE DOOR JINGLES. Without turning around, I call out in Greek, “Sorry we’re closed.”
“I’m not here for food. I’m here foryou.”
The dishes I was clearing fell from my hands, shattering at my feet. I slowly turned.
Frozen in shock, I stare helplessly at him.
My heart races.
I don’t know if I’ll survive him again.
His dark eyes meet mine.
“Hello, little dove.Miss me?”
