Page 106 of Sinner’s Torment

“I’m happy for you,” she said, her voice warm.

“Me too,” I said, meaning it.

King appeared beside her, his arm sliding around her waist protectively, and he nodded at me with something that looked like approval. “Your father’s a good man, Brandy. We’re honored to have him back, even if it’s just for today.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice thick. “It means everything to him. To all of us.”

King’s expression softened slightly. “He earned it. Every bit of it.”

I watched as my father moved through the crowd, brothers clapping him on the back, shaking his hand, welcoming him home. He wore the cut with quiet dignity, his posture straight, his expression peaceful. My mother stayed close to his side, my son against her shoulder, and I saw the way he looked at her—with love and gratitude and the kind of devotion that came from building a life together through impossible circumstances.

I started toward him, but I only made it three steps before strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back against a solid chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Torment’s voice was low and rough in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“I was just⁠—”

He spun me around and kissed me, cutting off my words with his mouth. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was claiming and possessive and absolutely scorching, his tongue sliding against mine with deliberate intent.

Around us, the brothers erupted in hoots and hollers, their voices rising in celebration and encouragement.

“Get it, Torment!”

“About damn time!”

“That’s how you claim your woman!”

I melted into him, my hands fisting in his cut, my body pressing against his as the kiss deepened. The ledger was forgotten. The questions were forgotten. Everything was forgotten except the feel of his hands on my waist, his lips on mine, his heart beating against my chest.

When he finally pulled back, I was breathless and flushed, my lips swollen, my body humming with need.

“Hi,” I said stupidly, staring up at him.

His grin was pure sin. “Hi, yourself.”

I glanced around at the brothers still watching us, their expressions ranging from amused to approving, and felt heat creep up my neck. But I didn’t care. Let them watch. Let them see that I was his and he was mine.

I leaned up on my toes, my lips brushing his ear, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Think my old room is still empty?”

The reference wasn’t lost on him. My old room—the one I’d stayed in before the evacuation, before everything had fallen apart, before we’d been separated and nearly destroyed by circumstances beyond our control.

The room where we’d first been together. Where this had all started.

Torment’s eyes darkened, his hands tightening on my waist. “God, I hope so.”

And then he was picking me up, lifting me effortlessly into his arms as I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck. The brothers cheered louder, their voices following us as Torment carried me toward the clubhouse.

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” Jackass called out, holding his wife Sam.

“That leaves literally everything!” Blade shouted back, and the crowd erupted in laughter.

I buried my face in Torment’s neck, breathing in his scent—leather and motor oil and something uniquely him—as he carried me through the clubhouse doors. The sounds of celebration faded as we moved deeper into the building, down the familiar hallway toward the room that had once been mine.

He kicked the door open, carried me inside, and kicked it closed behind us.

The room was exactly as I remembered it—simple, clean, with a bed that had seen more passion than it probably should have. Torment set me down gently, his hands framing my face, his eyes searching mine.

“I love you,” he said, the words simple but weighted with everything we’d been through. “I love you, and I’m never letting you go.”