Chapter Thirteen #3
I spin, but it’s Marcus standing there, whole and alive, his familiar smirk fading into a hard, accusing glare. His eyes pin me, sharp with disappointment. My chest tightens, guilt sinking its claws deep. I want to run to him, to explain, but my feet won’t move.
Opening my mouth to speak, suddenly rough hands close over my hips from behind, and my body instantly reacts to the feeling.
Sin.
His breath scalds my neck as his mouth trails down my throat, a shiver of desire rushing through me. I sag back into him, torn, even as Marcus’ expression twists with betrayal.
Traitor, Marcus mouths, the word burning my skin, making me feel like I am literally on fire.
I try to scream at the intensity of the feeling, the sky darkens, lightning flickers without thunder as I look down at my skin blistering with the inferno burning me alive.
Gold spills across the road at my feet, endless, faceless, blinding, and even with my body burning, I reach down to investigate, but every piece I touch turns to ash in my fiery fingertips.
With tears in my eyes that instantly turn to smoke as they hit my scorched skin, I peer up to find my brother, to beg for his forgiveness, but Marcus is gone.
Yet, Sin is everywhere.
His hands.
His voice.
His heat.
My body answers him, shame and lust snarling together until I can’t breathe. I try to pull away, but I can’t.
I don’t want to.
His flames become part of mine until we’re both on fire, joined together in an inferno. His eyes meet mine as we hold each other in the flames, his hand slowly rising to meet my cheek. He goes to speak when suddenly, sirens pierce through the void.
Wailing police sirens cut through the darkness, shrill and merciless, growing louder until they rattle my bones, so loud it hurts my ears.
The sky explodes into screens, huge televisions floating overhead, flashing news broadcasts that scream louder than the sirens.
Every channel shows the same thing—headlines announcing Las Vegas Defiance MC Taken Down.
Grainy footage of raids, of men in leather being dragged into the streets, of Sin being shoved into the back of a police car.
I turn to find him, but he’s nowhere to be found, and the inferno that was incinerating me has suddenly been extinguished.
Thunder cracks, light flashing white-hot across the nightmare sky, disorientating me. The sirens, the broadcasts, the thunder, it all blurs together until I feel like I’m spinning out of control.
Hands reach for me in the chaos. Sin’s rough and desperate through the television screens. Marcus’ steady but condemning. I stretch my arms toward them both, fighting to grab hold, to anchor myself. But no matter how hard I reach, no matter how much I beg, I can’t catch either one.
They slip away, vanishing into the thunderstorm.
The guilt claws deeper, dragging me down, down, and I scream, gasping for air. “I’m sorry!” I yell at the top of my lungs, but no sound actually comes out as the entire void keeps spinning out of control.
Just as I lunge for Marcus’ hand, Sin’s hand on my arm lights me on fire again, knocking all my air from me.
A murmur cuts through, low and indistinct. A hand brushes my arm, tugging me upward. I jolt in the dark space between dream and waking, lungs clamped tight, convinced for one breathless second, I’m still there, in the storm, with Sin’s hands on me and Marcus glaring me down.
My lashes flutter open. The nightmare clings, disorientating, and Sin is right there.
For a fractured heartbeat, I don’t know if he’s a dream or real. His cut, his windswept hair, the heat of his body close to mine, it all blurs together, like the dream has followed me into waking.
My heart slams against my ribs as I remember my covert mission in Ghost’s tech den.
Oh God, does he know?
Did he see me in there?
Did I leave something behind?
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sin’s voice breaks the spell. It’s low, apologetic, not accusing. “I was trying to wake you gently.”
The air rushes back into my lungs, sharp and dizzying. I blink rapidly, trying to calm my pulse, trying to read his face for hidden suspicion.
Is that softness in his gaze or scrutiny disguised? My stomach knots, but I force my mouth to work.
“No, you’re fine,” I manage, though my voice shakes faintly. “I was just in a deep sleep.” The honesty of my next words shocks me. “Actually, I haven’t slept like that in a long time. Your bed is super comfortable.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, disarming in a way that makes my chest ache. For the first time since I woke, I allow myself to believe he doesn’t know.
That may be I got away with it.
“How’s your head?” he asks.
“Better,” I admit, despite the nightmare.
The painkillers have dulled the pounding, but more than that, the sleep has helped.
Even if it was built on lies and betrayal.
He nods, then stands, moving toward the door with that easy, fluid grace that makes it impossible not to watch him. He pauses in the doorway, eyes raking over me one last time.
“You know…” he drawls, voice rough with amusement, “… you look damn good all tangled up in my sheets like that. Hair messy, cheeks flushed. It’s sexy as hell.” His mouth curves, half smirk, half promise. “Makes it real hard to walk out that door.”
Heat blooms low in my belly, chasing away the icy panic that had gripped me seconds earlier.
He doesn’t know.
He’s not suspicious.
He’s just being Sin—maddening, confident, alpha to his core.
“I’m gonna start getting ready for the party tonight. I can’t wait to see what you look like all dressed up for me,” he adds, his tone pure lust as he finally shifts away. “Take your time.”
Then, he’s gone.
The silence he leaves behind is deafening. I collapse back against his pillow, inhaling his scent, trying to steady the panic still thrumming in my veins. The man who destroyed me with his mouth, who left me shaking and wanting, is the same one who just woke me with tender care.
I stare at the ceiling, guilt and desire twisted together in a knot I can’t untangle. I came here for Marcus—for justice, for truth. And tonight, at the New Year’s party, I’ll have to smile through the guilt, play the part, and pretend my heart isn’t breaking with every lie I tell.
The truth is locked away in that sealed file, just out of reach. But the truth about my feelings for Sin is becoming impossible to ignore.
I’m falling for him.
And I don’t know if I can find my way back from that particular cliff.
Time to go home and get ready for a party where I’ll have to smile, laugh, and pretend I’m not dying inside. Where I’ll have to watch Sin from across the room and act like he doesn’t own every piece of my shattered heart.
Just another performance in the greatest lie I’ve ever told.
The lie I’m telling myself that I can walk away from this unscathed.