Page 49 of Sin for You

I kind of felt like I was being flayed alive as old wounds tore open one by one, each horrific betrayal and rejection playing over in my head in a loop.

You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough.

I’d only planned to sit there for a little while until I pulled it together, but then my thoughts had spiraled.

I’d sat too long without my jacket, and now my hands wouldn’t work. I didn’t think I could move. I’d have been crying if my tear ducts hadn’t been frozen.

Light hit the back window of my car, tires crunching on the gravel before skidding to a stop.

A door slammed. Heavy boots, someone in a hurry, kicked up stones that tinged off my hubcaps as they ran to the driver’s side of my car.

I squeezed my eyes shut because I knew who it was and I didn’t want him to see me like this.

The door was wrenched open and then Bull was there.

“What the fuck, Quinn—” His words stalled out as he got a look at me. “Sweets, Christ, you’re frozen.”

I tried to pull away, but the effort was futile as he tugged me out of my seat and into his arms.

“Where’s your coat?” he asked, pulling off his own and shoving my arms in the sleeves before zipping it up. “Fuck, Quinn, you could have died out here.”

I was lifted, carried to his truck that was still running. It was warm inside, and I curled into myself as he shut me in. I watched, detached, through the windshield as he grabbed my phone and keys and locked up my car then climbed in with me.

Without a word, he cranked up the heater and tore out of the rest area onto the road, heading back to Rocktown.

He kept sliding glances my way, but I kept my eyes trained out the front window.

“What were you trying to do, baby? Sitting there like that?”

His voice was that mix of soft and rough and sent pleasurable tingles down my spine. How pathetic was that…was I?

I was starting to thaw out and could actually unhinge my jaw. “M-my c-car d-died and m-my p-phone d-died, too.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “When I think what could have happened…” His big fingers were curled tight around the steering wheel, knuckles white in the glow of the dashboard lights. “What’s going on in that head of yours, sweets?”

I ignored the question. “Just take m-me h-home.”

We were quiet the rest of the way, and I thought he’d let me get out of the truck on my own when we pulled up at my house, but he was out before I was, striding around to open my door.

“Leave me, I’m f-fine.” I was cold and humiliated. I didn’t want Bull’s hands on me, his warmth, his scent. It hurt too much. I just wanted to be alone.

But then my knees almost gave out when I jumped down. Bull growled and scooped me up into his arms and strode to the house, using my keys to open the door. Warmth hit us as soon as we walked in.

“Where’s Mase?”

“Crashing on Dane’s couch. I didn’t tell him about you running off, but I needed to leave. Dane said he’d take care of him.”

I pushed at his chest when we walked into the living room, and he let me slip to my feet, keeping his hand on my arm to steady me. I tried to unzip his jacket to give it back to him, but he grabbed the front and held it shut.

“Keep the damn jacket on.”

I forced myself to look up at him. “You can leave, Bull. D-don’t let me keep you f-from Lynette.”

He growled again, picked me up, and planted me on the couch then dragged the blanket off the back and tucked it around my legs.

He paced away then back, fingers shoved in his hair, eyes wild. “You’ve got it all wrong. Jesus.” He ate up the distance between us and went down to his knees, one hand going to the back of the couch, the other arm caging me in. “I’m not interested in her—”

“You used to be. You were sleeping with her when I moved back,” I said, voice devoid of emotion.