Page 14 of Sin and Redemption

Oh, the gossip mills would love it.

I’d always been someone who preferred the sidelines. I never picked the boldly colored dresses or did anything crazy with my hair. I never laughed too loudly or acted out. I liked being in the shadows. It was where I was comfortable, a place where I could watch other people and admire their bravery to be bold. But I’d been dragged into the spotlight in the worst way possible, and now with this pregnancy and a canceled wedding, there was no way I could escape into the shadows again.

They wouldn’t let me.

They.

As if it was as easy to spot the people who’d condemn me. Nobody would openly point fingers. There would be pity and understanding, not open condemnation. But I knew how things would play out in the end. Some people would say I shouldn’t have gone to college, then I would have been safe. Some would blame it on my clothes or something equally ridiculous.

I hated that I felt helpless. I hated that things were once again out of my control. I didn’t want to be a bystander when my future was decided. It was my life. I wanted to be the one to choose how it would unfold, even if my options were limited. I still wanted everything I’d once wished for.

I looked up from the pregnancy test to my reflection. Maybe the rules were unfair toward women, especially women like myself, but I couldn’t change the rules or our world. I could only try to still fit in—for my family’s sake, for my sake, and even for the baby’s sake.

That left me with only one option. It wasn’t one I’d ever considered in the past two weeks, not really. Now, it was my way of taking the reins back.

The sound of a bike’s engine raised the hairs at the nape of my neck. When Maddox pulled up in the driveway, I took a deep breath to suppress my body’s reaction. I was in fight mode, as if the mere sight of a motorcycle was enough to bring out the murderer in me. I had always hated the bikers. It came with my job, and somehow, I hated them even more now. If they hadn’t recorded Marcella getting hurt, Jabba would have never come up with the idea to hurt Sara.

Maddox pulled his helmet off, then smoothed his blond hair away from his face. He looked like an MC member, even if he wasn’t wearing the cut anymore and had been working for the Famiglia for a while. Hell, he was even married to Luca’s daughter Marcella, but it didn’t make him a Made Man. The biker was ingrained in him, triggering me like never before. I hadn’t been one of the people angry with Luca for allowing him to work for us or be part of our world. I knew people could change and form new loyalties. I wouldn’t be here today if Luca hadn’t taken a chance on Dad.

Maddox regarded me from his spot on his bike as if he knew what I was thinking. He finally dismounted and headed my way. We had worked together on occasion when he’d helped us capture bikers, but this time, our encounter felt different, weighed down by feelings that didn’t even make sense.

He raised his eyebrows. “You look like you want to punch me.” He shrugged. “If that helps you get over the shit you’ve been through, be my guest.” He tilted his chin up in invitation. Fuck, I should be grateful for his help. He was good at finding people who didn’t want to be found—bikers, Bratva soldiers, simply everyone.

“I want to torture and kill. Punching won’t even begin to satisfy my need for revenge,” I growled. Fuck, I needed to get a grip. It wasn’t Maddox’s fault. He was here to help.

He shoved his hands into his black jeans and stared up into the overcast sky. “I regret many things. But I won’t ever regret kidnapping Marcella. Because if I hadn’t made the biggest fucking mistake of my life, she wouldn’t be my wife today, and that would be a fucking shame.”

“You’re lucky your kidnapping had such a happy ending,” I muttered bitterly.

“Maybe there can be a happy end for you too.”

Something snapped inside me, and I grabbed his throat. “A happy ending after what I did? Do you think Marcella would have become your wife if you had raped her?”

His fingers closed around my wrist, but he didn’t try to pull me away. He stared straight into my eyes. The understanding in them frustrated me even more. I wanted my rage to be met with rage. I wanted a reason to kill the man before me. “From what I saw, neither of you had a choice.”

I released him, grimacing. Had anyone not seen that fucking video?

“You’re here to help me find the men responsible for our capture, not to be the judge over my sins. Only Sara and God can do that.”

I was brushing my dog Bacon’s white fur on my parents’ veranda when my phone rang. He let out a yowl when I put down the brush. His short fur didn’t require combing, but he loved being petted like that, so I tried to brush him every other night. Despite his upbringing in a puppy mill, he was a very gentle Dogo Argentino.

When I saw the name on the screen, my brief sense of calm evaporated. It was Romero. Did he have new information on the Russians? Maddox’s and my investigations hadn’t come up with their location so far.

“Can you come over?” Romero asked.

“To your house?” I asked, stunned. I’d never been there, and after what had happened, I hadn’t expected for that to change. I hadn’t seen Sara in the past two weeks, nor anyone from her family except for Romero. Flavio avoided me and so did the women of the family, naturally.

“Yes. We need to discuss something.”

“Sure.” I stood and dusted myself off. “I can be there in forty minutes.”

“Good.” Romero hung up.

“What’s up?” Primo asked as he came up behind me. He had been stretched out on the swing.

“Romero wants me to come over to his place.”

Primo’s face reflected my own confusion. We shared the same hair color, but his eyes were our mother’s blue. Not as kind, though. “Do you think it’s a trap? Do you want me to come with you as backup?”

---