Page 33 of Two Sides of Sin

Leaning against a ute at the edge of the light, half-submerged in the shadows, was Cain. Who else? Seriously, one night…that’s all I wanted, and he couldn’t even grant me that small kindness. He stood there like a judge, his posture perfect.

We made eye contact, and even from across the clearing, I saw it, the sinister smirk that played on his lips. It was the look of a man who knew exactly how much his presence unsettled me. I didn’t hide. I shot him a look that could kill and slowly, deliberately, lifted my middle finger.

Fuck him.

Thinking he can turn up here to ruin my fun after his little stint the other night—crawling through my bedroom window only to leave me hanging like that. Typical him and his brother. Both of them are big on the promise of ruin, but never quite delivering the mercy of the end.

Cheryl and Cindy had already wandered off towards the keg, leaving me alone in the flickering light of the bonfire. The alcohol was a warm haze in my brain, blurring the sharp edges of my anger. I stared back into the flames, trying to burn the image of Cain’s smirk out of my mind, when the log shifted.

Someone took a seat beside me.

“Hey. I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

I looked up, my head spinning slightly. Even through the haze, I recognised the face. It wasn’t shadowed or heavy with secrets. It was open. It was honest. “From the diner, right? Billy?” I replied softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, a crooked, effortless smile playing on his lips. He looked so normal. So safe. “I make it my business to know the names of the prettiest girls in town, June.”

I felt Cain’s gaze still boring into the side of my head, a cold weight that refused to let go. But I ignored it. I looked at Billy instead. After months of being treated like a ghost—a specimen to be “dissected” or a bird to be “caged”—I found myself leaning into the warmth of Billy’s attention.

It was a band-aid on my shattered ego, a reminder that I was still alive, still tangible, and still capable of being looked at without being dismantled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cain. Across the heat of the bonfire, the opening chords of Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name started to thrum through the speakers, the heavy beat matching the rhythm of my pulse. The longer I talked to Billy, the more that arrogant, cruel smirk began to fade on Cains face. His lips thinned into a hard, flat line, and his posture lost its cool demeanour. For the first time, he looked… unsettled.

Good.

An angel's smile is what you sell, the lyrics drifted through the smoke, a perfect backdrop to the petty, intoxicating irritation racing through me. I relished it. I wanted him to feel the same restlessness he’d been sewing into my skin for weeks.

But my victory was short-lived.

He didn’t storm over. He didn’t claim me. Instead, he did something far worse. With an arrogant grace, he pushed off the ute and strolled toward the keg—right toward Cheryl and Cindy. Within moments, my so-called friends were practically throwing themselves at him, their hands fluttering over his chest and arms, their high-pitched laughter cutting through the roar of the fire.

Cain didn’t look at me, but I knew he was doing it for my benefit. He was “curating” a different scene now, proving just how easily he could replace the space I occupied. I felt a hot, poisonous emotion creeping up my throat—a territorial sting I refused to acknowledge.

I turned my back on the sight, my nails digging into the wood of the log.

“You want to go somewhere a little quieter?” Billy asked, his voice dropping an octave as he noticed my sudden tension. “I’d really like to get to know you without all these people around.”

I looked at Billy, then back at the silhouette of Cain surrounded by the girls. I needed to get away from the heat, the smoke, and the torturous way that Cain was currently dismantling my sanity from twenty meters away.

“Sure,” I said, my voice thick. I stumbled as I stood up, the alcohol making the ground feel like it was unstable beneath me. Billy caught my arm, his hand lingering just a second too long on my skin.

We walked deeper into the brush, the light of the fire fading behind the thick trunks of the oaks. At first, it was fine, just more talk, easy flirting. But as the music became a distant thrum and the orange glow of the party vanished, a cold knot of dread began to tighten in my chest. The woods felt different here. Heavier. The air was freezing against my exposed midriff.

“Maybe we should go back,” I murmured, rubbing my arms. “I’m getting cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” Billy said. His voice had lost its playful edge, it was lower now, flatter. Before I could even blink, he stepped into my space, his hands grabbing my hips and pulling me firmly against his body.

“Billy, wait—” I put my hands on his chest, trying to push him back, but he was like a stone wall. “I’m serious, I want to go back.”

“Don’t be like that, June,” he teased, his breath smelling of stale beer and something sour. He grabbed my face, his fingers bruising my cheeks, and forced a kiss on me. It was clumsy and tasted of alcohol.

I shoved him with everything I had. “Stop! I said no!”

He didn’t move. He stood there in the shadows, his eyes reflecting the sliver glow of moonlight. His mask shattered, exposing his true self underneath. He looked at me with a disturbing predatory hunger that made my blood run cold.

“You think you’re too good for me?” he hissed, stepping towards me. “I saw you at the diner, acting all innocent while you practically begged for attention. You shouldn’t be walking around looking like a slut if you didn’t want it.”

I turned to run, but he was faster.