Page 39 of Sin Like the Devil

Instead of answering, I lift an unsteady hand and grasp his glasses. Raine’s throat spasms as I carefully slide them from his face. All I want is another glimpse of the honeycomb jewels he keeps hidden.

If it wasn’t for them or the telltale bouncing of his eyes from side to side, never finding a target to land on, I wouldn’t know he’s blind. His irises are golden pools of treacle.

It isn’t always dramatic like how it’s shown in the movies—clouded over eyeballs or obvious, gnarly scarring. Even his pupils still dilate, untouched by whatever stole his eyesight. They’re a regular size. He must’ve run out of whatever I caught him snorting the other night. That explains the lack of intoxication.

“Satisfied?” Raine murmurs.

Gently placing his glasses down, I stare into his unfocused eyes. “Seems only fair.”

“Agreed. Now, hold still.”

Fingers connecting with my left cheek, he gingerly caresses my skin, following the slope of my features. His index finger traces the outline of my jaw, while his thumb swipes over my lips, tugging the bottom one down ever so slightly.

Travelling upwards, Raine strokes beneath my eye, as if feeling for the sunken ravines that provide evidence of my exhaustion. My heart gallops painfully when he traces my eyebrows and cupid’s bow before following my narrow, upturned nose.

“What do you see?” I breathe out.

Inspection complete, he brushes the backs of his knuckles against my cheek. “Well, I can hazard a guess why Lennox and Xander are so obsessed with you.”

“I could’ve told you that. They hate my guts.”

His hand falls away. “Even if they hadn’t told me the bitch who set them up is hot as fuck, I would’ve guessed so. But it doesn’t matter to me either way. I have a different concept of beauty now.”

I’m not sure what’s more entertaining—the fact that pair of assholes willingly said something semi-nice about me or Raine’s back-handed compliment. The feel of my face tells him I’m hot. People have said a lot worse to me, so I’ll take it.

“What do you find attractive?”

Tongue darting out to wet his lips, those honeyed orbs dart around, searching for the forever out of reach.

“Conversation. Laughter, but only the genuine kind. The way someone breathes. Footsteps. Nervous tics like teeth grinding or fidgeting. The slightest change in tone or intonation.”

“You pick up on all of that?”

Raine hesitates, the corners of his eyes crinkling in thought, before he answers. “I have to. I live my life in the margins of a full page. All I’ve got is subtext.”

Hand searching the nearby table for his glasses, Raine locates them, then his gaze vanishes once more. Retreating back behind the relative safety of his lenses and a scripted persona.

“Thanks for the art lesson.” He changes the subject.

“Raine—”

“I should go.”

Fumbling back to his abandoned violin case and guide stick, he gathers his belongings to leave. My muscles twitch with the urge to chase after him and break those fucking glasses so he has no ability to hide anymore. Not from me, at least.

“And good luck with the grand revenge plan,” he adds. “Perhaps you’ll feel differently about circumstance when your so-called enemies are dead and you’re left to deal with the consequences.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I’m left staring after him, my face still tingling from the tender caress of his fingers mapping its topography.

CHAPTER 8

RIPLEY

DEVIL – LOWBORN

“Oi! Bitch!”

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