Page 167 of The Truths We Burn

He raises his hand to slap me.

“You better be ready for what happens after you land that. I know I can handle a punch from you—are you sure you could handle me hitting you back?” I warn. “Or I’ll give my friends the permission they’ve been waiting for.”

“You wouldn’t,” he breathes.

“Oh, I would,” I smirk. “And you should know, they aren’t fond of fathers who treat their children like shit. So before you hit me again, ask yourself, are you ready to answer for your sins, Dad?”

This time when I move past him, he lets me go, standing in his own fear of punishment.

I’d thought about what would happen if he changed, if I could bring myself to forgive him for all the abuse over the years. I think it would take time, but I would because I’d allowed him to do it for too long. I’d almost given him permission to do it. I’d enabled him.

But tigers don’t change their stripes, not overnight, and that would be a bridge I would cross if it was ever built.

When the door closes behind me, I leave everything there.

Because there is something much more important that requires my attention.

Sage leans against the hood of her car, arms crossed in front of her and a pair of black sunglasses sitting on her nose. A skirt number is wrapped around her waist, showing off her pretty legs that I love to feel squeeze me when I’m buried inside of her.

My mouth waters at the sight of her lips painted bright red.

A poison apple.

I have this rash urge to eat it off. Leave it smeared all over her chin from my kiss, from all the filthy things I’d love to do to that venom-coated mouth.

So that’s what I do because I already have low impulse control, and around her, it seems absolute.

I press my lips to hers, not worried about the stain it will leave on my own skin. I drink her down like air, feeling her come alive beneath my touch. My hellfire and holy water. Sometimes she’s sweet, and sometimes she could burn the world down.

And I love waking up not knowing which one I’d get.

My hands fall beneath her skirt, massaging with my thumbs before I skate upwards, my fingers grazing the raised skin just above her left ass cheek. Pride fills me.

“How’s this healing?” I mutter, pulling away enough to let her answer.

My toes curl knowing she’s been marked by me in more ways than just physically.

My initials branded right across the top of her ass, just like I’d told her I would do. She wears the delicate, gothic font like a sparkling jewel, and every time I see it, my gut fills with emotion.

“Fine. Still a little sore, but I kinda like it.” She bites at my bottom lip, pulling it out playfully.

“Yeah? You like a little pain, don’t you, TG?” I smirk, looking down my nose at her, pulling one of my hands up to shove the glasses up to rest on the top of her head so I can see her eyes.

“Only when I know you’ll lick it better.”

I’d always thought that falling for Sage was the worst mistake of my life. That she would make me weak. That she would snuff the flame that had always burned so hot inside of me.

But she is oxygen, constantly fueling me, for better or for worse. She built me higher, made me burn hotter, gave me strength.

I’d been through hell—wehad gone through hell—but I was appreciative of that. Because I’d never been able to recognize her grace, had never known what sin was.

You never really know how damaged you are until you try to love someone.

Her eyes shine a bright blue, and it makes me tilt my head,

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, practically seeing the wheels spinning.

“Your eyes,” she mutters. “It was the first thing I noticed when I came back here. They looked so empty, but now they are different. Less vacant.”

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