Page 65 of Sin

“I didn’t,” he said, distractedly. He missed the incredulous look I gave him at that confession.

Reaching out, he removed my belt, then his. Then he shapeshifted into Titus, one of the Mercs he’d been getting frisky with, according to London. If I wasn’t in so much pain, maybe I would have appreciated the bulk of Titus’s figure or the fact that his body was almost impenetrable. But as it was, I was in unfathomable pain, and when he picked me up and held me against his rock-hard chest, I groaned in agony.

Using Titus’s super strength, Bennett leaped, careening us toward the sky.

My heart soared into my throat, and even when we landed on the asphalt above the pit, it still didn’t go back down.

Bennett started running, jumping over a discarded bike and dodging several small fires blazing in the road. I shut my eyes, feeling sicker the longer he held me. When he finally slowed, setting me down on something, I opened my eyes. I was on a bench on the sidewalk, and my shirt was now more blood than fabric. That couldn’t have been good.

“Okay, let me look at it,” Bennett said, back in his true form. He scrutinized my wound with a grimace.

“Is it bad?” I asked, not wanting to look.

“Uh, no,” he said, lying terribly. “It’s really not that bad. Barely a scratch.”

I snorted at his poor attempt. Then our situation came back to me. “Shit,” I groaned. “We’re screwed now.”

He pressed some fabric against my wound, but I couldn’t focus well enough to figure out where it came from. “We can think of another way—”

“There is no other way, Bennett,” I said, cutting him off. I coughed, then grimaced as the movement irritated my wound. More blood trickled out from my stomach.

Bennett’s face tightened. “We can figure it out later. Right now, we need to get you medical help.”

When he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, I seized his wrist, making him pause. “We don’t have time. There’s something you need to know.” Steeling myself, I forced myself to confess, “I can’t use my persuasion on my dad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I tried… before. After what he did at City Square,” I said, trying hard not to remember the bloody heart he’d carved out a man’s chest, “I tried to use my power on him… but he… he took my powers, Bennett.”

Bennett stared at me like I was insane. And maybe I was. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

There wasn’t turning back now. He needed the full truth. Especially if I needed him to do what I couldn’t. “Because I knew it didn’t matter if I had them or not. Not for what I planned to do.”

He looked about ready to throttle me, and if I wasn’t well on my way to bleeding out, I was sure he might have been tempted. “Well, what were you going to do? Because now really isn’t the time for surprises, Sin!”

“I was going to kill him.” Forcing my unsteady fingers to move, I opened my jacket to show him the special-grade grenade I’d hidden inside. I was fucking lucky it hadn’t killed both of us when I’d fallen in the sinkhole.

His eyes met mine. “You were planning to sacrifice yourself.” Now, he looked really fucking pissed. “Fuck, you were going to blow the place up.”

“Obviously that’s not going to happen anymore,” I muttered in frustration. “I was hoping to fix my mistakes, just like you are. I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said, slapping my cheek in a move both soothing and angry. “I’m going to get you some help. Just keep putting pressure on your wound, okay?”

“Bennett?” I said when he moved to leave. “What are you going to do?”

He smiled, but I swore I saw fear in his eyes. “What I have to do. Will… Will you do something for me?” At my nod, he continued. “When you see London, will you tell him I’m sorry?”

Fuck.

I watched his figure disappear down the street, fearing that might have been the last time I saw my friend.

I went in and out of consciousness while I waited for help, and I wondered if this was how I was going to die, after all. I knew Bennett could do what I couldn’t, though. He’d be able to fix my mistake. I knew he could.

I was able to breathe a little easier with that thought.

But I must have drifted because frenzied hands grabbed at me, and when they pressed against the wound in my belly, I gasped awake.

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