Page 68 of Breaking the Sinner

Gen stepped back instinctively. His eyes were bloodshot, and a strange smell seeped out of the apartment. Like old cooking oil and body odor.

“I…I’m looking for Cobra,” she said, the words barely making it past her lips.

His brows shot up. “No shit? Is this part of the Singing Slut-o-gram he ordered?” He stepped back to call into the apartment, allowing a glimpse of the living room. It was underwhelming—threadbare carpets, low, lumpy couches, and an enormous television.

“Tyler,” the guy went on, “get your ass out here. We’ve got a visitor.”

Gen straightened. “I’m looking for Cobra.”

A muffled voice from inside the apartment, and then the man in front of her said, “Some sexy red-head you clearly ordered for the gang bang.”

Gen’s stomach tightened, and she gripped her purse. Something thudded from inside the apartment. Footsteps pounded for a moment before Cobra bolted into the doorway. He grabbed his friend by the collar of his shirt.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Cobra snarled, and pushed him away. He darted into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him. Protests swelled behind the closed door. Cobra didn’t move his hand from the knob.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed. Bloodshot eyes stared back at her, sending her stomach into a free fall. Her voice dried up. She had no idea anymore.

“I wanted to check on you,” she whispered, searching his face, searching for any sign of the man who had pressed her to her desk and called her beautiful. “You haven’t been into work. I was worried.”

The door rattled behind him. His bicep flexed with the effort of keeping it shut.

“Come onnn, Coby!” wailed a roommate. “We wanna play too!”

“Are they your friends?” she asked.

“You need to leave,” Cobra said. And there was no room for question there. Not even a hint of doubt. Finally, she was inclined to believe him.

“I need to make sure you’re okay,” she insisted. What she’d seen told her he wasnotokay. Why did he live here? Why were those weird men his friends? It only deepened the Grand Canyon-sized rift between their lives.

“Yeah, doing great.” His nostrils flared. “I’m walking you to your car.” He turned and opened the door, issued a stern warning to the roommates inside, and then slammed it shut.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the elbow. Her gaze darted down his body, over the stained gray T-shirt, down the loose black workout shorts, all the way down to his bare feet. And somehow, seeing his bare feet drove it home. She’d intruded on him. No matter how he lived, it was his choice. And she’d butted in.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted as he guided her down the steps, his footsteps falling softly. “You weren’t answering my texts. I could tell you were upset on Wednesday. And I just—”

“Gen, you gotta learn to stop giving a damn.” He pushed through the front door. The door clanged shut behind them. He searched the lot briefly before heading toward her car. “I can’t believe you fucking showed up here. You have no fucking idea. You don’t belong here. And you better not pull this shit again.”

She blinked rapidly, fighting a wave of emotion threatening to turn into tears. God, she hated being reprimanded. It always took her back to her childhood. When she’d recited the Bible incorrectly. When she’d spoken out of turn. When she’d done anything too assertively, too aggressively.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice watery. “I can’t stop giving a damn. I care about you.”

He let go of her arm near her car and sighed heavily, rubbing at his face. “How did you find out where I live?”

“I looked in the system at work,” she whispered.

Finally, a grin cracked across his face. But it only lasted a second. “I thought that shit was protected.”

“It is.”

“Jesus, Gen. Now you’re hacking computers or something?”

She shook her head. “This was important.You’reimportant.”

His face hardened. “No, I’m not. Now go.”

“At least tell me if you’re going to be at work on Monday.”

“I don’t know.”

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