Page 51 of Daddy's Sinner

My patience wears thin as I listen to Gabriel’s sermon, the words tumbling from his lips like venomous snakes. With each passing second, my heart pounds harder against my chest—a ticking time bomb waitingto explode. I can feel Marisol’s pain as if it were my own, and I’ve had enough. There’s no time to rescue the innocent; all I can offer is death. I count the armed men that surround the compound. Fortunately, they feel safe or comfortable enough to not have many—another fatal mistake.

Walking over to their storage rooms, I sneak in and grab as much gas as I can gather. Spreading the gas through the area as quietly as possible, I carefully ensure each leak finds its way to a cluster of dry kindling or one of the well-worn wooden structures. One spark, and this entire place will become an infernal symphony.

Continuing to slosh the gas around the outskirts of their gathering, careful not to let the scent reach them yet, moving as quickly as I can. Once I’m done, I retreat to a safe distance, crouching behind the brush and watching them through the weaves of the branches. Ripping a piece of my shirt, I wrap it around a rock, soaking it in the remnants of gasoline.

My gaze falls upon Marisol again, her head hanging low, her body glistening with blood and sweat. This is going to hurt, but I've never been one to shy away from pain. In a quick movement, I light the end of the fabric, praying that this works because this is all I've got. It's all or nothing at this point. My hand absentmindedly throws the rock, and the fire is almost instant as it snakes its way to the storage of gas.

BOOM.

The blast rocks the ground beneath me as a tower of fire erupts into the dawn sky, illuminating the horrified faces of Gabriel’s followers. Shrieks fill the air as the inferno dances menacingly, consuming everything in its path. The wooden structures crumble under the intense heat, their ashes floating in the air like snowflakes from hell.

With chaos enveloping their sanctuary, I take advantage of the commotion to get my girl. She’s out cold, blood soaking in the white lace that covers her face. Quickly, I focus on how to bring her down withoutcausing her too much pain, but I’m running out of time. Thankfully, she isn’t nailed on the cross—they’ve secured her with barbed wire.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I dart toward her. I’m not sure how the fuck I’ll bring her down, but I have to. The cross is thankfully close to the ground, and with my height, I can reach her wrist without a struggle. Carefully but quickly, I unravel the first wrist, then, using my body and leg to hold her up, my hands move to the one that’s still secured.

The barbed wire bites into my skin, drawing thin lines of blood as I work to free Marisol. But the pain is nothing compared to my desperation as I frantically unwind it. Time is a luxury I can’t afford—Gabriel’s goons won’t be distracted by their burning sanctuary forever.

Once free from the cross of her torment, Marisol slumps against me, a sigh escaping her lips as if her body recognizes me. Recognizes she’s safe, “I got you, pretty girl,” I whisper into her ear, hoisting her up around my shoulder with care, mindful of the wounds that speckle her body. Her weight is a comforting anchor against the chaos around us. I cast one last look at the hellish scene—it’s a sight straight out of hell.

The followers are scattering around us, not even noticing I don’t belong here. That I’m not one of them. But just as we cross into the forest, bullets begin to rain down, lashing the leaves around us. The air resonates with the crackling of flames and the deafening roar of gunfire. Alarm flares within me, but I refuse to panic—I can’t afford that luxury either.

Using the trees as cover, I dart through the forest, Marisol clinging to me like a lifeline.

“Again, taking my whore. You just don’t fucking stop.” Gabriel’s voice echoes through the forest, his words filled with seething hate. But I don’t care. Let him keep his sanctimonious wrath. Let him bask in the fire and destruction of his holy sanctuary. As for me, I have one singular focus—Marisol.

“Tell you what, fight me like a man, no weapons, only hands. She belongs to me, you know. My Sol loved me at one point; she will love me again.” Gabriel’s voice echoes through the dense foliage, a venomous snarl that seems to claw at my back as I run. Shots continue to whizz past us, some striking the tree trunks, sending wooden splinters flying through the air. My boots slide on the damp earth beneath, but I force myself to move faster. A bullet rips through my leg, causing me to stumble, and a harsh grunt tears from my lips. Marisol’s terrified gasp rings in my ears as I fight against the blinding pain that shoots up my leg. Gabriel’s laughter echoes through the trees, as if he were a vengeful god raining down his divine punishment.

With gritted teeth, I push myself to a nearby tree, shielding Marisol. I help her to sit on the ground, her eyes wide as she looks down at my bleeding leg.

“It’s okay. It’s a flesh wound. Stay here. Don’t let him see you,” I whisper. She shakes her head, and I kiss her because I can, because this could possibly be the last time I claim those plump lips I adore so much.

“Come back to me. There is so much I want to explore and learn about you,” she whispers back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

I nod, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “And there’s so much I want to learn and explore about you, darling,” I say with a smile. The footsteps are getting closer, and the daylight makes it easier to spot us. After giving her the gun that's on my waistband, I pull her close. I press a swift, fierce kiss to her forehead before standing up. The world spins for a moment, and I bear down, pressing my hand to my bleeding leg. The coppery scent of blood fills the air, and the uncontrolled tremors in my hand threaten my bravado. “Remember, stay quiet. Don't let him see you and only come out if you’re in danger. I’ll come back.” She nods, clutching the gun in her hand as I pull away from her reluctantly and rise on shaky legs—the act alone stirring a sharp ache in my wounded limb. With one last regretful glance at Marisol, I step into view. Crazy idea, I know, but I was never one to run.

“Ah, there you are!” Gabriel’s cruel voice rings out, the tone chillingly calm compared to his earlier anger. His eyes glint in the dappled sunlight, a look of pure satisfaction spreading across his face. “Now, let us end this charade and be done with it,” he sneers, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. Ignoring the searing pain in my leg, I tackle him. One thing I’m good at is using my hands to kill; I like being up close and personal with sin.

Our bodies crash together, two forces of nature colliding in the quiet of the forest. His laughter is cut short, replaced by a grunt of surprise as we tumble to the ground.

We wrestle in the dirt like two wild beasts, fists flying and teeth gnashing in desperation. I manage to land a few good blows on Gabriel before he wiggles his way out of my chokehold. A sharp rock jabs into my wounded leg, eliciting a hiss of pain from me, but I don’t let it slow me. I pin him down and straddle him. His fingers dig into my wound, making me hiss in pain. Bringing my head down to his level, I headbutt him.

“I’m going to skin you alive,” I snarl, not very god-like or pure, but I don’t care. I want carnage and blood.

“The feeling, my dear friend, is absolutely mutual,” Gabriel sneers back, a vicious grin stretching across his dirt-streaked face.

I drive my fist into his jaw, sending blood and saliva spraying from his mouth as he yelps in agony. The satisfaction fades from his expression, replaced by a fear that seems much more appropriate. His attempts to retaliate grow increasingly weak as the flavor of fear takes hold, overshadowing his earlier bravado. I punch over and over, giving him no space to defend himself until my knuckles are raw and bloodied. He writhes beneath me like a snake, his hands clawing desperately at my arms, at the earth, at anything he can reach. But I am relentless.

But then Gabriel, in a sudden move, cheap shots me in the nuts, forcing a gasp of pain from my throat. Before I can react, he headbutts me, using the momentum to shove me off him. Dirt flies into my eyes as hescrambles to his feet. I groan, struggling on the ground as he stands over me, a twisted grin on his lips.

“How does it feel, Priest?” he taunts, his voice dripping with venom. ‘Knowing I had them both first? Zia and Marisol. It was my cock they fucked and sucked for the first time." Rage surges through me, but before I can respond, Gabriel kicks me hard, his voice a feral growl.

“She's mine,” he snarls, his anger mounting. “Mine. Not the Prophet's, not yours, but mine. My whore. My woman. My dove.” He kicks me with each word, his fury escalating. “You aren't worthy of her, you filthy sinner, defiling my woman with your rotten cock.”

Just as Gabriel is about to land another brutal kick, a gunshot rings out, echoing through the air. He freezes, his twisted grin faltering as he stares down at me. But then he smirks, the fire in his eyes reigniting—until another shot cracks through the tension, and he drops to one knee, clutching his leg in agony.

That's when I see her—my angel of death—moving towards him with an eerie calmness. The calm before a kill.

“Why?” he gasps, his voice strained as she kneels before him, her hand running through his hair. She grips it tightly, yanking his head back to meet her eyes.

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