Page 116 of In the Light of Sin

Is this how she felt on the inside? She was exposed, so defenseless from anything that came for her.

I would’ve thought she was dead if it wasn’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest. I put my hand there in case my eyes were deceiving me. A relieved, shaky breath passed my lips. I didn’t dare move my hand, too scared that her breathing would stop moving if I did.

My eyes narrowed, hand gripped hers until her knuckles popped. Whoever did this to her, they were going to fucking pay. Douglas was nothing compared to what I was going to do to whoever locked Joslyn in that closet and almost killed her.

A low whimper escaped her, her face scrunching looking pain. I felt hopeless as my hold on her tightened, hoping my touch was enough to help her get through whatever nightmare she was reliving. I pressed closer to her, my free hand brushing the stray hair plastered against her sweaty forehead. My lips pressed against her forehead. “Shh, Sunshine. I’m here, I’ll always be here.” Her whimpers ceased, making my lips twitch. My chest felt heavy as I heaved a shaky breath, my lips skimming down her cheeks before brushing against her cold lips. “Please don’t leave me.”

Her mouth twitched making me pull back. She woke slowly, her eyes unfocused as they blinked awake. I froze as her head shifted, her eyes widening. But not with recognition. She looked fucking terrified of me. A scream ripped from her throat, trying her best to move away from me while flailing her arms. Her palms slapped my face multiple times before I caught her wrists. Pulling them towards me, forcing her to focus on me. She didn’t have her hearing aids in. I knew she couldn’t hear me. I just hoped she had enough clarity in her vision to read my lips.

“It’s me, Sunshine.” I brought her hands to my face, her palms resting stiffly. As soon as my scarred skin hit her fingertips, she knew who I was, her eyes lighting with recognition. She inhaled sharply, her mouth falling open as her eyes began to shine with unshed tears. I held her wrists tighter, and I didn’t know who was shaking. Her or me. “It’ll always be me.”

A sob caught in her throat, her eyes slamming shut. Tears slipped through the slits, unable to stop the wails threatening to leave her. Her whimpers were breaking my fucking heart. My hands moved from her wrists to her waist, pulling her flush to me, not being mindful of her injuries in favor of her touch comforting me and the nightmares to come from the fucked up situation we were in.

My face was buried in the side of her neck as I breathed in her scent, hating that the daunting smoke masked her usual floral perfume. Her tears swelled on my neck, falling down my skin like a waterfall. I hated her tears, but right now, I would take anything I could get from her. Good. Angry. Sad.

It meant she was alive. She was here with me, stealing the air I was willing to give her every last drop of.

She tried to pull back, but I wouldn’t let her. I needed to hold her tight because I thought I was dreaming, and we actually died in that fire. She patted my back, silently signaling me to let her go, her cheeks damp and eyes irritated from her cries. Her lips pulled in a smile, her lips quivering as she laughed. Her smile, accompanied by her watery eyes, made her emerald eyes twinkle like gems. “You’re alive.”

Her words were loud. I swallowed the emotion of hearing her voice. It was more raspy than her usual sweet tone. But it was her voice echoing like a metronome inside my head telling me she was here.

She was alive.

“We’re alive.” I thought the more I said them, the more I would believe them. Because right now, I thought this was my fall before going to Hell. That I was seeing my girl, and the floor would fall in, swallowing me but leaving her here alone. My forehead lowered on her chest, against her still beating heart that was thumping against my head like constant reminders that she was here. We were here and not in the fire. I pulled her hospital gown down, making sure she could feel the words against her skin. “We’re alive.”

My breath hitched, something I knew she felt. Her hand dug into my curls as my body began to tremble. What the fuck was I doing? Why were my eyes burning? Why was a puddle forming on her chest? Why did my cheeks feel so goddamn wet?

Was I crying?I couldn’t be. I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry when my parents died. I didn’t cry in the aftermath of my sin. I internalized all the trauma, using it to become feared by the Souls’ enemies and anyone who dared to fuck me over.

I was Sarge, Sergeant in Arms of the deadliest motorcycle club in Utah. I didn’t cry.

But here I was, weeping for the girl who lit up the darkness that’s shielded me for years.

I lifted my head, her eyes widening in surprise before bringing her hands to my cheeks, brushing whatever was on my face away with her thumbs. More tears fell unwillingly from my eyes. Her face moved closer, lips catching the tears trailing down my cheeks. Her lips quivered against my skin before she pulled back. Sympathy was plastered on her face as she maneuvered her right hand over my left one that was on her hip. I refused to let go of her. I couldn’t right now. I fucking needed her and her touch.

Her hand closed over mine, her ring and middle finger tucking between our joined hands, leaving her thumb, pointer, and pinky leaning over mine. I choked on a sob, trying my best to keep my emotions in check, but like everything else in my life, I was fucking failing. I bent my ring and middle finger, our knuckles brushing together.

She’d never understand how much I fucking loved her.

More emotion escaped from me today than ever before in my life. I didn’t want her to see my sobs, so my hands desperately went to her cheeks, pulling myself towards her so my lips connected to hers, letting her mouth silence my cries.

Her hands gripped my hair like this was our last kiss. They began to tremble to the point I thought she was going

We’re alive.

I survived this time.

Chapter 31: Joslyn

This past week has been difficult. Sarge and I may have escaped the fire, but we didn’t escape the memories.

My hearing aids were lost in the flames, and I’ve spent the past week unable to hear anything being said to me. I tried my best to read lips and my friends’ hands as they tried to communicate through sign language, but I was still too weak to interact with them. My thoughts were wild and lost to that horrible day that felt like yesterday, but a week had already passed.

All I wanted was to be in Sarge’s arms. His rough fingers trailed up and down my back and his lips shaped sweet nothings onto my forehead. I wanted the nightmares of us burning alive to stop.

Losing Sarge, even in my dreams, was too much for me to handle.

The day I watched him cry in relief that we lived through the ordeal but didn’t come out unscathed mentally or physically cemented us together in a way I didn’t think was possible. I remembered he spent hours on his knees, his mouth moving in apologies on my chest as I did my best to comfort him. But even digging my fingers in his chestnut curls did nothing to relieve the pain he had to relieve. My heart broke for him. He’s survived this ordeal twice now, and even if I didn’t die the nightmares of what could’ve been will still haunt him.

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