Page 52 of Where Sinners Repent

Searching for her clothes, I’m not surprised to see them torn to shreds by the slice of a knife.

“I’ll be back,” I mutter into the dark space.

Her eyes widen, head shaking frantically. “No! You... can’t go...”

She fights the restraints all over again, wrists straining against the straps that have already broken the skin. Her breathing picks up, her panic finding me. Her hand still has that bandage on, fingers fisting over the dressing.

My feet freeze on the spot.

“Please,” she whimpers.

My jaw flexes.

I close the distance between us without another word, crouching down to remove the chains and straps that secure her ankles. The muscles in her thighs shake from pure exhaustion.

I don’t meet her eyes when I stand and work on the straps around her wrists. Can’t.

As soon as she’s freed, she falls into me, limbs too tired to help her stand. Shrugging off my vest, I ease her arms into it, watching the leather swallow her whole.

It’s not enough to keep her warm, but it’s enough to ensure no one else gets to see her like this.

Picking her up is too easy; her small frame wrapping around me like a child. The way she clings to my neck, her legs around my torso, holding on for dear life, has that fucking tremor starting again in my hands.

If only she knew I wasn’t the safe space she thinks I am.

Yet, she holds me like I’m the only thing she trusts in this world.

And my shaking hands hold her back.

The entire car ride to the apartment is torture. Worse than the kind she just went through.

Curled up on the seat, with the heaters blasting, her soft, dazed eyes stayed on me. I feel them, refusing to glance back. What she’ll see in me is nothing but cruelty.

Things I want to do to her, even now. Even in her state.

She thinks Kaleb is evil. She can’t even comprehend how wrong she is.

Carrying her up to the apartment is like a brand; her body searing into mine.

I need to leave.

But I can’t. First, I help her into the shower, holding her body up from falling onto the shining tiles. I drag a warm cloth over her skin, cleaning her slowly. Dragging it over her pained core pulls a gasp from her lips.

Her eyes are heavy, minutes away from passing out. When she reaches to grab the hem of my shirt, with a raspy, “Join me,” all I can do is grip her wrists to stop her.

She can’t do that. Can’t see the real me.

Warm water soaks through my shirt as she curls into my chest anyway. My body doesn’t know what to do with it, my unfamiliar pulse hammering.

My hands on her keep tightening before I convince them to loosen.

By the time I’m wrapping her in a soft dressing gown and carrying her to the bed, my whole body feels like it’s going to snap. Every rigid muscle and locked joint strains beneath my skin.

My control is barely holding on.

Her dazed eyes flutter shut as soon as her head hits the pillow, and I all but sprint out of the room. I don’t stop until I get to the car, shooting off a message to Ash.

Send someone to guard Roxy’s door now.