Page 48 of Daddy's Sinner

I toss the gun aside and crack my neck. The new guy, number four, is running toward us with a fierce look and making too much noise. Marisol still has the shears pinned to Daniel's groin, her arms shaking with effort. I can see the fear in Daniel's eyes, but he’s not giving up; he’s trying to grab Marisol's wrists, but she’s holding tight. I need to act fast before things get out of hand. My eyes scan the area, searching for a new weapon. That’s when I spot a long wooden beam leaning against the nearby wall. I walk over to the wall and grab the beam before the man gets too close.

Marisol yanks the shears out of Daniel, and I watch as he falls to his knees. Once the man gets close enough, I swing the beam, connecting directly with his abdomen and causing him to fall to the ground. I don’t hesitate to bring the wood beam down on his head a couple more times than I probably should have but fuck them. I feel small hands stop my arm before it comes down on the corpse of the man on the ground. “It's done.” She says and that's when I see the disfigured face of the man.Tossing the beam to the side, I turn to face my little sinner, her eyes wide, dilated with hunger. The fire crackles behind us as she moves closer, her body pressed against mine.

“You… Priest. Matheo. I owe you everything,” she breathes.

My bloody hand cups the back of her head, and I rest my forehead on hers. “You are everything,” I whisper, holding her closer. For a moment, we stare into each other’s eyes, a silent confession of love and madness. She shivers against me; whether from the cold or the adrenaline surging through her veins, I can’t tell. I wrap my arms around her, and I pull her close, feeling her melt into me like a puzzle piece.

“We have to go, baby,” I whisper, tightening my hold and reluctant to let go. I did it. Victor is dead, and by the end of tonight, so will the rest of his followers.

“What do I call you now?” Marisol asks, looking up at me through her thick lashes.

I chuckle softly, bringing my hands to her face. “Yours,” I say. “But I'm not a priest. Not to you. Not anymore. I’m a man desperate for love… for you. I’m Matheo or God. But yours, only yours.”

I watch her brown eyes glisten with unshed tears. The fire's heat reflects in them, making them flicker with a fierce intensity I've come to love. She smiles at my words, a wide, beautiful grin that lights up her face and makes the scars of our past seem insignificant. Fuck, do I love to see her smile.

Leaning in closer, I brush my lips against hers as she says my name, “Matheo. Mi amor.”

The warmth of her words spreads through me like a calming balm, stronger than any fire, more soothing than any prayer I have ever uttered. I press my lips onto hers fully now, the taste of her surrender encased in the mingling of our breaths. She responds ardently, witheager passion. Our lips separate briefly, the sound of the crackling flames a reminder of everything we’ve left behind.

“Let's go now,” I say to Marisol, who stares at me with a hunger that I’m more than willing to succumb to.

“Not now... little sinner. Let's get going.” Offering my hand, I watch as her fingers weave with mine.

“You lead, and I'll follow,” she whispers, bringing my hand to her lips and placing a kiss on it. The woods in front of us seem impossibly far away. Marisol is beside me, her eyes wide but not from fear. My little demon is excited, clutching my hand, her nails digging into my skin as she pulls me toward her.

“Let's go,” I say, but my voice is reluctant as my grip on her hand tightens.

She nods in agreement, but before we can move, the sound of incoming footsteps stops us in our tracks. Instant recognition flashes over me as the man comes into full view, the flames highlighting the gruesome scar on his face.

“Gabriel,” Marisol says, her body tensing beside me. Grabbing her arm, I pull her behind me, making him smirk as he holds a gun directly at us.

“I knew I could count on you. Excellent job, Priest. Or should I call you Matheo? God?” he taunts, setting my blood on fire. I can feel the heat rush to my face. My fists clench at my sides and I use my body as a shield. He would have to kill me to get to her.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snarl, dropping the false pretense that I’m a holy man. A man of God. I’m none of those things. I’m a killer. A sinner.

Gabriel laughs, his eyes remaining fixed on Marisol. “Gabriel, the true prophet.” His eyes remain on her, his demeanor calm. “Two of mywomen you have fucked. Defiled. One of them was my dear sister, my first wife Zia. And now my future bride, the woman that will bear my children, too.” He clicks h, shaking the gun to the side as if chastising a misbehaving pet. “You are a thief… a sinner, Matheo. Not a priest. Not God.”

“You killed Zia?” I snarl, the veins in my neck bulging, my ears ringing from the rage.

He smiles. “She was punished for her sins.”

I flare my nose, wanting to kill him right there, but the fear of leaving my little demon unprotected leaves me frozen in front of her.

My eyes remain on his scarred face, the cruel twist of his lips. Marisol clutches to my back, but her gaze remains on him. I don’t sense fear from her, only anger.

“That’s my whore behind you. You dealt with that problem, so I’ll make it quick for you,” Gabriel’s smirk morphs into a grin that chills my blood, his fingers twitching on the trigger.

“No,” Marisol says beside me, stepping away. “I’ll go with you, but Matheo lives. Let him be. You already know his face. You can kill him if he comes back, Gabriel, but he will leave. Just take me.”

I grab her wrist, pulling her towards me. “What are you doing?” I ask through gritted teeth. But she only smiles—a sad, resigned smile. That same smile that captured my heart the moment I laid eyes on that picture.

“Saving you,” she whispers, her eyes soft yet filled with a resolve I have never seen before. “This is the way it has to be.” Her arms wrap around my neck, and I should have seen it coming. I was stupid not to focus on him when he was the true danger. But that was her goal—to distract me, and she did. My beautiful little demon crashes her lips against mine, her tongue slipping inside my mouth, the tang of desperation tingling on mytaste buds. Her lips are soft and familiar yet laced with a desperation that’s foreign to me. I’m lost in the taste of her, the sweet surrender in her kiss. I can feel her tears, warm and salty, as they fall on my cheeks, her sobs muffled by our shared breaths.

Then I feel it, the hard metal clashing into my skull.

I stumble back, blinking through the stars and flames that dance in my vision. Marisol sobs, and I see a flash of steel before everything goes black.

Dove

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