Page 5 of Where Sinners Repent

He grunts. “Of course I do.”

Of course he does.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to stop the world from spinning.

“I’m fucked,” I sob, tears finally spilling down my face. “I’m just like them now. Fuck!”

“Listen to me,” Ash’s voice cuts through my panic, stopping the next sob in my throat. “Kai is on his way.” My mouth opens to beg him not to send one of his men, but his harsh voice stops me. “Angel and I are a good two hours away, and you need someone there right now.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from begging.

“Kai is my most trusted man,” he murmurs, softer this time. “He’s going to help you clean up your... situation... and then bring you to us.”

My fingers sting from how harshly I grip my phone. Silence stretches over the line.

I need Maddy, but I just can’t fucking go to where she lives. Curling in on myself, I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I can’t,” I whisper pathetically.

“Roxy,” Maddy says, and I hear her care for me in that single word. Care I don’t deserve right now. “It’s not safe for you to be alone. Not tonight, anyway.”

I know she’s right.

“I can’t do this again,” I plead.

I’m not making any sense. I know that. But I’m spiralling, ghosts from my past clawing at my heels.

Muffled voices echo through the phone, Ash and Maddy murmuring words I can’t grasp.

The blood catches my eye again. The tattoos covering the still arms. The rings on his fingers. The patch on his cut.

“I’m not going back,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “I’m not.”

“You’re not,” Ash replies firmly. “Kai will take you to Maddy’s old apartment. He’ll guard the front door until we get back in the morning, and we’ll go from there. Can you do that for me?”

I nod, although he can’t see it.

“Okay,” I squeak, a fresh wave of tears blurring my vision. “I can do that.”

“Good girl,” he rumbles. “Stay on the line. Kai should be there any second.”

Again, I nod.

And he’s right.

Because seconds later a roaring truck skids out front, bright headlights shining directly onto me.

“He’s here,” I whisper shakily.

I don’t hear what Ash replies. A dark figure strides through the front door, the bells mocking me as it slams shut. Something in me refuses to look.

Sure, I’ve probably tattooed every member of Ash’s club. But in here, they’re the customer. I’m the artist.

The lines have always been clear.

Now. Now the lines are smeared in blood and chunks of skull.

My fingers tighten around the phone until my knuckles crack, my eyes fixed on the ruined floor. It reminds me that I deserve this. Whatever comes after...