Page 110 of Breaking the Sinner

“Look at you. Miss Twenty-First Century.”

“Yeah. I saved a man’s wallet from being stolen in London a few nights ago, at this café we were visiting, and he was so grateful he gifted me this extra tablet he had. I couldn’t believe it. I barely know how to use it.”

“I’m seeing that. But you’re coming along just fine. Now, where are you?”

Gen paused as another announcement cycled through. “I’m in Houston!”

“Houston!” Sophie gasped. “So that means you’re almost home?”

Gen and Sophie hadn’t video chatted a single time during her three-month excursion abroad. Occasionally, Gen had made a long-distance call from a phone booth here and there. About halfway through the trip, a nice Brazilian woman offered to help her start a Skype account so that she could video call back home, but the effort seemed too high for so little time remaining.

So Gen kept herself off the grid.

Exactly as she’d wanted it.

“I will be home in approximately five hours,” Gen said, checking her watch. “I can’t wait until you can hear all my rudimentary Spanish!”

Sophie sighed dreamily. “I can’t wait to hear all the stories.”

There was plenty to catch up on—from both sides of the world. It wasn’t until week three of her trip, when Gen called Sophie for the second time, that Sophie finally told Gen to check her e-mail. Cobra had come calling, the day after she’d left.

Twenty e-mails. That’s how many he’d sent during her twelve-week trip. She managed to get on the Internet occasionally, mostly at night at the hostels, but when she did, she devoured Cobra’s messages as if they were the most deliciousgofresin all of Spain.

Because in a way, his words were even sweeter than the exotic treats of foreign lands. They were so sweet, she’d printed them at three different points during the trip. Spent more than fifteen euro total on the printouts. Carried them with her, folded up and worn at the edges, like an early pocket Bible she’d worn to death.

Even so, she hadn’t responded. Not once. Part of it was time—with so much to do on the road, if she wrote an e-mail back, she’d be writing for hours. The other part was sanctity. Of the trip…of her peace of mind. She didn’t want to interrupt her itinerary with something that would be best resolved back in LA.

When she and Sophie hung up, she pulled open her e-mail client on the tablet. She swiped and scrolled mostly successfully, accidentally closing the app only twice this time. She pulled open Cobra’s last e-mail, which had been sent four days ago. It simply said,“I went to the mountain and screamed fuck by myself, but it wasn’t the same. Thinking of you.”

She hit Reply. The blank e-mail stared back at her. Gnawing on the inside of her lip, she glanced around the sparse waiting area in front of her gate. The flight wouldn’t leave for another hour. Time enough to figure out what she wanted to say.

There were so many unknowns. She’d depleted most of the insurance payout she’d gotten from the crash, which meant finding a job very quickly would be of ultra-importance. Travis might be willing to hire her on, but that conversation still needed to happen. Amara might be able to help her, but did she even want to do that? These were the life questions she’d been postponing while she wandered Europe in a haze of healing and discovery and wonder.

Starting in Greece had wowed her. Drifting toward Spain cracked her open. And finishing in England brought the pieces back together to form something even more meaningful. A newer, wiser Gen, eager to go home. To Los Angeles. Where her family was waiting for her. Sophie. Cobra. Travis. Amara.

Because family wasn’t just who you’d been born alongside or who had brought you into this world. Holt Body Fitness had become family to this curious and wide-eyed orphan.

She blew out a long breath and started typing. Short and simple.“Where can I find you?”

The tablet dinged with a response as she shuffled in line toward the gate.

“Literally anywhere you want. Say it and I’m there. Or come find me after five at 3535 Larsen. Any word about Fernando? Need to know if he’s going to have an issue with the things I’m planning on doing when I see you.”

She rolled her lips inward, stifling the laughter. She tucked the tablet under her armpit while she held out her boarding pass. Air travel, train travel, hailing cabs—it was all a breeze to her now. Even so, each time she went through the motions of scanning tickets or boarding something, excitement thrilled through her.

She was living the life she’d dreamed was impossible.

She’d fucking made it. And she still had so much more to explore.

She landed in LA around three p.m., made it to the apartment by four-thirty, danced and squealed with Sophie, then took a long, hot shower.

By six, she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to go find Cobra. Travel exhaustion be damned.

The address he’d given was new to her, which made her hopeful that he’d moved the hell out of his old place. Part of her wasn’t convinced he’d done it. Maybe he and his horrible friends had simply all relocated together.

On Larsen she found a cute, palm-lined boulevard flanked by boxy apartment buildings, spacious parks, and well-trimmed hedges. She found the number he’d given her, parked her car, and walked on wooden legs toward the front door. Her heart hammered in her chest. She raised her fist.

Knock, knock, knock.

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