Page 17 of In the Light of Sin

“That’s the point.” I hated that she was there with me. She was throwing off my routine, and that was the only thing keeping me sane. I needed structure, and she shattered that.

I hated what she thought she was doing to me.

“Would you be mad if I brought some flowers? You know, brighten the place—“

“Let’s get one thing straight, Joslyn.” I turned, towering over her. She looked at me with those wide green eyes of hers. She had fear in them. Good. “It’s my house. Not yours.”

“I know—“

“Listen,” I cut her off harshly. “You’re there, so you don’t get sold. You’re not there because I want you to be.” I had to say something that would put the final nail in the coffin, something that would make her understand that what I was doing was instinct and not from my cold, dead heart. “Everythin’ about you is fuckin’ fake.”

The light in her eyes dimmed, and her smile faltered briefly. Something twisted in my gut that I hadn’t felt in years. I didn’t say anything more as I made my way back to my bike, throwing my leg over the seat. I was about to turn the engine over when I heard her voice, smaller than usual. Not the typical way she usually spoke to me.

“I understand Sarge. Thank you for putting up with me.”

She turned and walked back inside Poppy Oaks with her shoulders slumped. The burning in my gut was inferno as I blew out a breath and shook my head as I started the engine. I’d never been a nice guy. Joslyn was the first slip of ‘nice’ I’d ever been to anyone, and I knew from her track record the nicer I was to her, the harder she’d hold on.

This wouldn’t to end like Grim and Nyla, where we lived somewhat happily in our traumas. It was going to end where she pretended, and I continued to live alone in the shadows.

* * *

I walked into the auto shop. Usually, I wouldn’t let a single soul work on my bike but me. I had to keep this on the down low from nosy fuckers. I had to have someone do it who I could scare into secrecy. An older man with balding thin hair in greased-up overalls shivered at the sight of me. He eyed my cut before gulping. Prez must’ve already been here and had a nice chat with this man. “Can I help you?”

“You work on bikes?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Prefer them to cages.”

“Need you to work on mine.” I threw him the keys, which he easily caught. “You fuck up my bike, I fuck up your life.”

He tried his best to look unphased, but I’d seen the way his throat bobbed slowly out of fear. “Certain time you need it done?”

“I’ll email the details. You have a week.” I turned and started walking away from him. “Donald Klingerman. 405 Woodrow Way. Wife, two kids.” I paused. “Something happens to my bike? Something happens to them.”

I walked out without another word. If Prez was here, he already knew of the Souls and what we would do. Word of Carl Latham committing suicide was being picked apart by the public as a homicide due to us immediately taking over his properties. Prez gave both his families a generous lumpsome and even invited them both out to a celebration of his life.

What a huge surprise they were going to get. Prez was a dick sometimes.

I walked the somewhat busy sidewalk, people moving out of my way. I wasn’t entirely pissed about having to walk to my cabin, either. I needed to clear my head. Everything from the last few weeks seemed to be simmering on a low boil, and I could feel something about to blow. And on top of that, Joslyn is grating my fuckin nerves. She has a lousy history of attaching herself to people who just bleed her dry. She needs someone to watch over her, yes. But she also needs to keep the fuck away from me before I really hurt her. I can’t keep watching her, or I’ll lose myself in it. I walk a thin line every day, and if there’s one wrong move, it’s over for me. She may be the sun, but I’m the moon. Maybe that’s how I can explain it to her. We’re too fucking different, and there’s just no shot at anything more with us. She has to learn that quickly.

After the stakeout, I was going to forget Joslyn Monroe. Even if it was just for the night.

Chapter 5: Sarge

Darkness surrounded our team as we sat motionless. The only light within miles of us was coming from the abandoned warehouse where the Cardinal Bloods were currently holding their meeting. Everyone was watching them through the cameras at the clubhouse besides Husk, V, and I. We were here for clean-up once this meeting was over.

I adjusted my stance, leaning on the opposite side of the tree V was hovering behind. The only sounds were the crickets chirping as we waited for these bastards to start talking and stop wasting our time. The three of us had earpieces to hear from the hidden microphones planted inside the abandoned warehouse.

My mind went back to the party. Jordyn saw Joslyn pull the wire out and hand it over to me. Surely, she would’ve ratted her out to them, right? Or did they not take stock of anything one of their whores said?

My gut told me something wasn’t right.

The static in my earpiece indicated movement, and soon enough voices followed.

Showtime.

“We got a girl that’s willing to do some stuff for us. She’s also got a twin sister that she hates, so not only will she do the job we need her to do, but she also has a plan for her sister to be the fall person when she gets caught.”

My eyes widened, the corner of my lip pulling back to bare my teeth. Even if no one could see the anger, they’d sure as fuck feel it when my hands wrapped around his fucking throat. My anger propelled me forward, taking me out of the safety of the trees and to the single dirty window showing four figures sitting at a round table talking.

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