Page 66 of Breaking the Sinner

But all Red did was look at him. So much written in her gaze. It went deeper than concern. It told him that she was seconds away from coming after him herself. That it didn’t matter what he’d said to her in the lounge; it didn’t matter how far he tried to push her away.

She was in it. For him.

And that was a fucking shame. Because he couldn’t return that to her. He’d gone too deep with this girl, and he needed to cut this shit out before it got worse. It wasn’t even sex brain. They hadn’t fucked, so how could it be?

It was Gen brain.

“Breaking up fights is good,” Lex said in a low, measured voice. “But you can’t go after dudes like that.”

“Whatever.”

“Melanie is gonna have to file a weight room incident report since she saw it go down,” Lex went on, gripping him by the arms. “Travis might have some questions.”

“Let him fucking fire me.” Cobra worked his jaw back and forth. “I don’t care.” Because he didn’t. Or rather, he wanted to not care, and the only way that would happen is if he just fucking ruined it already.

Lex lowered his head. “You’re hot right now. I get it.” He didn’t leave Cobra’s side as he paced. Like a good friend—or paid colleague, since he still hesitated to use the word friend—Lex waited until Cobra cooled off before he left the weight room.

Once Cobra gathered his things, Gen had disappeared. Good thing, too. He needed to leave. Without fanfare, without issue, without any more feelings.

Back at the apartment, both Klay and Tyler were up, gathered around the kitchen island, hovering over something. Cobra didn’t say anything, just dropped his gym bag on the couch and went over there.

“Oh hey, Coby,” Tyler said, jolting when Cobra brushed by him. A plate sat on the island between him and Klay, white powder spread across the surface. “You want a snack?”

Cobra studied the plate. It had to be K. If it were blow, they’d have beers out as well.

“It’ll keep you mellow,” Klay said when Cobra didn’t immediately respond. “And you need it, brother.”

“Yeah. Stomping around here like a fucking bull these days,” Tyler said, snorting.

“Makes me nervous sometimes,” Klay added.

Cobra narrowed his eyes. “Why the fuck would it make you nervous?”

“I don’t know what you’re gonna do!” Klay threw up his hands defensively. “You could fuckin snap, ya know? Like your old lady did.”

Cobra gritted his teeth. “Yeah well, we’re not fucking, so I think you’re fine.” It was the only response he had, even after all these years.As long as we’re not fucking, I won’t kill you.It seemed to be the one rationalization that made sense. Crime of passion. Ithadto be true, because something had to be the reason why his mom killed his stepdad.

“So go on.” Tyler offered him a rolled-up bill. “Snort your snack.”

Cobra watched the proffered bill for a moment, and without deciding, without even realizing it, he accepted it and took a long, hard draw at the plate.

The powder scorched through the back of his throat. The movement was fluid, born of muscle memory and nostalgia. Of sayingfuck itand letting the pieces fall where they may. Like always.

“Atta boy, Coby,” Tyler said. He sounded almost proud. Cobra rubbed at his forehead, lurching toward the couch. Tyler and Klay took their turns as Cobra sprawled out, finding a comfortable spot and letting the high settle in.

Chapter 27

Cobra didn’t show up to work for two days.

Two. Whole. Days.

On the morning of the third day, she couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t care, or that she was emotionally removed, or any of the other qualities that movies and books told her she needed to exhibit. She’d even texted him once the day before, unsurprised when he didn’t respond.

The deepest part of her worried that he had taken the leap and disappeared. Like she’d been fearing all along. Part of her deeply believed he would never sabotage his own career like that. The other, newer side of her—the one getting acquainted with the suspicions and wounds of the regular world—knew that nothing was off limits.

It was Friday. Which meant that an entire weekend—aneternity—might go by without hearing from Cobra. Without knowing if he was still a part of her life or if she should begin lamenting his loss now.

She spent the afternoon at her desk, clicking between screens without accomplishing much. A wily idea percolated in her skull, one that she knew to be very wrong. Very bad. Probably illegal, given the strict rules Travis had set her up with regarding the business’s information and records.

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