Page 22 of The Sinner's Bargain

Silver.

Chrome silver.

Horrors temporarily forgotten, my eyes lifted. My chin tilted as I peered up at the single bush of roses. A bush as tall as I was with eight beautiful, fully bloomed roses. I wasn’t a gardener. I was barely allowed in Mother’s, but I knew as most people did that roses didn’t bloom in cold weather. Not so close to winter. They absolutely didn’t bloom in that color. They practically glowed in the dark, reflecting light from nowhere yet radiant. It made no logical sense, yet ...

I smoothed the petal under my fingers. What appeared to be metal bent and folded like a regular petal. It even felt like a flower. I brought it to my nose and smelled the sweet hint of roses.

Astounded, I raised my hand to touch the nearest bloom.

“Don’t touch that!”

An iron fist twisted into my arm, and I was wrenched forward. I landed on all fours in the mud. My head jerked up. And up. Miles reaching to the heavens. Following the looming dark figure blotting out the world. But my gaze never touched past the gleaming chunk of metal hanging casually at his side.

A gun.

I’d never seen one outside of photos, but it was there in this stranger’s hand. Just hanging there. Waiting to be used.

The sound that escaped me was no more than a whimper as I tried to edge back and not move simultaneously. Trying not to give him a reason to kill me or worse.

The stranger saved me from further humiliation as he bent down and dragged me to my feet by the crook of my elbow. I was partially grateful and terrified when he kept the toned fingers digging into my skin. My legs could not be relied upon.

“Who else is here with you?” he demanded.

I put a shaky hand up caked with dirt and bits of grass. “No one. Please ... I was just trying to get away...”

I stared at the shadows collecting around the center of his chest. As high as my gaze was willing to travel when there was still so much higher to go to face the man holding my life in his palms.

The weapon was jerked up and I flinched, but it was pointed at Taylen kneeling in the muck several feet away, clutching a bloody nose.

“Who’s he?”

I started to shake my head. “I don’t know him. He was my ride.”

“See? I fucking told you, man. I don’t know this crazy bitch.”

“Get up,” the stranger snapped. “Start walking.”

The hand stayed on my elbow as we were led away from the silver roses tucked in a neat alcove of stone. I probably should have been relieved I was saved from Taylen, but the man at my side, the towering shadow of warm muscles beneath damp clothes was somehow a bigger threat.

It could have been his size. Without my heels, I barely came to the center of his chest. It could have been the gun still clasped in his meaty fist, aimed at the back of Taylen’s skull. It could have been how gently he was easing me over inclines and across a wide, dark field. But he scared me in a whole other way I couldn’t explain.

The sound of rapidly approaching boots had my steps faltering. Bare feet slipped on wet grass, and I had to catch myself on my captor’s arm.

“Easy,” he murmured. “I got you.”

I forced my face up to the mask of shadows he wore so carefully, but neither of us said another word as a small group of men crowded around us. Their hands grabbed Taylen, ignoring his protests. One tried coming for me, but the stranger grabbed his arm before he could touch me.

“Don’t touch her.”

I was grateful.

I’d been manhandled enough for a lifetime. I’d been grabbed, pushed, pulled, pawed at, hurt, and hit in the span of a single night and if anyone else touched me, I was sure I would fall apart. All I wanted was to sit somewhere in warm clothes and sleep. Every bone ached. Every muscle throbbed. I was exhausted to the point of tears, and I just wanted a bath. But that didn’t seem to be in the cards when we rounded a high, dark structure and the grass reverted to gravel. Light, warm and golden spilled across what I was beginning to gather was the driveway of the stranger’s property.

My head turned to peer up at the structure bathed in shadows and secrets. Even with the solitary bulb lit above a majestic door of polished mahogany, the building itself lurked like a beast out of sight. But I could just make out a jagged outline of magnificent height and sprawling length before a pained grunt pulled my attention to the small crowd circling a kneeling Taylen.

“What the fuck do you want, man?” he was snarling around the hands bunched over his bloody face.

I thought of him crawling on top of me in the car, pinning me down, ripping my coat, and couldn’t muster an ounce of sympathy for his predicament.

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