Page 35 of Heartless Sinner

I pause on the screen as if I can still see her in the grainy footage, and I think about what the fuck this all could mean.

Brahm joins me and I look at him.

“There’s no way that’s a coincidence.” He shakes his head.

“It is. She didn't know who I was.” She didn’t have a clue, and it was me who approached her. “Someone must have sent her in blind."

“That doesn’t make her any less guilty.”

“It doesn’t.”

“What are you going to do about her?”

I look back at the blank screen, realizing I now have a reason to go looking for the angel. That excites me more than it should given the fact that she just made an enemy out of me. “Leave her to me. I’ll deal with her personally.”

Chapter Eight

Scarlett

I walk through the rain toward the old sugar factory, holding my jacket close to my chest to keep myself from getting wet.

My boots crunch against the gravel beneath my feet, alerting my presence.

This is where I’m supposed to meet the men and deliver the chip. It feels unreal that I’m back in Denver. It’s like I never left. I got a flight back as soon as I stole the chip and was home before eleven last night.

Now I’m here.

This old factory is just as much an attraction in Longmont as any other.

People from all over are fascinated with the century-year-old structure because it looks perfect for a horror movie.

I would never normally come to a place like this. I’m not adventurous that way, and I’d rather stay away from anything that feels dangerous. Not run toward it.

But coming to this dilapidated factory gets me even closer to my goal.

I just want this nightmare to be over. Right now, I’d happily take scrubbing the diner floors all day or even driving in hazardous conditions over this.

The only thing I want to remember from this disaster is my fantasy night with Mr. Dreamy.

Of course, the most perfect man I’ve ever met has lived rent free in my head.

His touch still burns on my skin like a brand, and vivid memories of how he took me burns my mind.

The ghost of his strong hands on my body, his hungry mouth pressed to mine, and his cock buried inside me feel like a fever dream.

A shiver races down my spine and it has nothing to do with the cold Denver rain seeping through my jacket. This shiver is filled with the heat of his touch my traitorous body refuses to forget.

And I’m still being selfish in wishing I didn’t have to leave him in that bed.

And for what?

To become a thief.

Jesus. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. Not even when it was easy.

I remember being ten years old and Dad taking Johnny and me to the circus for a show. A man dropped his wallet in front of us. It was filled with several hundred-dollar bills. There were so many inside the wallet it couldn’t even close.

I saw it, picked it up, and handed it back to him.

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