Yeah.
I stare at the counter and try to ignore the memory clawing up from somewhere I buried years ago.
A different girl. A different life.
A junkyard that smelled like rust, sweat, and hot oil.
Her father barking orders from across the yard.
Her laugh cutting through the noise.
The way she used to say my name like it meant something.
Then the day I told her I was enlisting.
I wanted out. Wanted purpose. Wanted to stop feeling like I’d been dropped into the world by mistake.
She looked at me like I’d hit her.
“I can’t wait,”she said.
Three months later, I heard she married somebody else.
Buried the soft part of me right then.
After that, women were complications. Weak spots. Something a smart man kept distance from.
Then Ruby Novak walked onto a stage tonight and made my hands shake with rage.
That part I still don’t understand.
“Okay,” Ruby says softly behind me.
I turn.
She’s swallowed by the hoodie and sweats. The fabric hangs loose on her frame, making her look smaller.
Safer.
I hate that I like the way she looks safe more than the way she looked in that dress.
Her hair is still wild. Her cheeks still pale.
Her eyes keep coming back to mine.
“What do I call you?” she asks.
I hesitate a second.
My road name sits on my tongue a moment before I let it out.
“Sin.”
Ruby blinks. “Sin?”
“Kids at school started it,” I say. “Foster kid. Wrong side of town. They figured I must’ve been born in sin.”
Her brows knit together slightly.
