Page 6 of The Sin

Sergeant Mackintosh stood there on the threshold. I recognized him at once, the officer in charge.

He didn’t enter, instead stepped back into the corridor. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

His brows furrowed in displeasure and I silently cursed my tongue. What did it matter? Even if they were finally transferring me to the rehab facility. Anywhere was better than these four walls.

I hurried out before he changed his mind.

He walked at a clipped pace, taking the lead as I scurried to keep up. The corridor opened into a lobby with a window box office and a number of closed doors. The only other person I saw was a young guard behind the window.

The Sergeant marched across the lobby and I followed, through a double set of swing doors that took us out into the bite of arctic air and weak sunlight.

There was a lot more activity out here. Guards walked with purpose or stood at attention by their posts each side of the gate. There was a hum of electric engines and unseen murmurs of official chatter. But all of that faded into a peripheral blur as my gaze zeroed in on Roman leaning against his truck.

He’d come to watch my transfer, to make sure I ended up where he thought I belonged.

He looked exactly as my heart remembered, standing there with his broad shoulders and toned muscle, silky hair grown out just long enough to caress his hollowed cheeks. Jaw chiseled in granite. Face sculpted in dark beauty. Arrogant brows riding those stone-gray eyes that seared me.

No devil horns.

No evil smear on his features to match the blackness of his soul.

It took another moment for me to realize we were headed straight for him. My feet turned to lead. I didn’t want to hear any last words.

Sergeant Mackintosh noticed me lagging and his head snapped back. “Keep up.”

I couldn’t.

I didn’t even try.

He grabbed me by the arm, yanked me in step with him, practically dragging me in the tide of his long-legged march.

Roman watched our approach without a trace of emotion to betray if he thought anything—felt anything—about my rough handling.

The sergeant yanked again, shoving me directly in front of Roman. “Here you go,” he barked. “Let it be noted, your wife has been released into your charge. Take better care this time round. Leniency is never rewarded.”

Roman’s gaze narrowed on me. “I never make the same mistake twice.”

Neither do I, I promised myself, and then my mind caught up to events.

What the hell was going on?

Roman didn’t give me a chance to ask.

“Get in,” he said and climbed behind the wheel.

I stood there a moment, gawking, then he started the engine and I scrambled around to climb in at the passenger side before he sped off without me.

As I closed the door and settled into my seat, he pulled away. “You okay?”

I looked at him. “Am I okay?”

“I just…” He shrugged, shooting me a furrowed look. “You’ve been through a lot. How are you feeling?”

“Like I should have run.” I laughed, a dry, bitter thing. “I should have crossed that bridge and taken my chances in the Outerlands. That’s how I’m feeling.”

“Whatever you think about the wild, it’s a hundred times worse than you could possibly imagine. Trust me.”

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