Page 22 of In the Light of Sin

For Joslyn’s sake, I hope she was prepared for the impossible.

Cracking open whatever was left of me.

Chapter 6: Joslyn

“As long as you’re alive, the sun will always rise for me.” He whispered against my skin, the heat of his breath igniting a fire where it touched, accompanied by the feel of his calloused fingers. “But when the moon rises, I’ll get you hot another way.”

Locking eyes with him, we shared a breath as I whispered, “Show me.”

I gasped, sitting straight up in bed with a flaming face.

I knew that was a dream for two main reasons.

One. Sarge couldn’t say that much in one sentence without me thinking he had a nicer twin brother.

Two. What I could see of his body was built like a muscular model, but did he have the face to match? Not that it mattered to me. Good looks weren’t an indication of someone as a whole.

Pretty faces were the most deceiving ones.

Besides… mask kinks were hot. Is a hood over your head never showing your face considered a mask kink? That’s beside the point. The mystery of not seeing the man who’s fucking your face? My God.

I’m reading too many of Oakley’s books. For a virgin, she’s got some tasty kinks.

I still didn’t have clothes here, so I helped myself to Sarge’s guest closet. There were sweats, t-shirts, and a few hats.

My lips pursed, thinking of what to do. I hated wearing the same clothes two days in a row, but I knew I wouldn’t have a choice with my pants. His sweats wouldn’t fit me no matter how much I rolled the waist of them.

But his shirt I could tuck in. And a black hat… maybe I would unlock a kink and make the dream I had the night before come true?

I laughed at myself with that idiotic thought. Right now, I don’t think Sarge would touch me with a ten-foot pole unless I was in danger. Realization washed over me, tanking the optimism I tried so hard to have.

At the end of the day, I was nothing but a task for Sarge. Something he could check off his good deed list or whatever the bikers did to atone for their sins.

I meant nothing. To him, to anyone. I was just Jordyn’s sister.

Like I’ve always been.

Flashbacks of our childhood plagued my mind. Jordyn playing volleyball, basketball, and softball in school. A star athlete and a straight-A student to boot.

Me? My ears hurt. A lot. I had to take remedial courses and couldn’t do anything with my peers. Nothing I did ever relieved the pain. I couldn’t go to Jordyn’s games because of how loud they were, so I was home alone a lot during the school years. My parents loved me, they did their best. They just didn’t know how to take care of a deaf child. Sometimes, I didn’t think they wanted to.

Especially when they had the perfect replica of me in Jordyn. Why would they settle for less when they had the town sweetheart as a daughter?

My eyes burned at the memory, knowing I was being unfair. My parents never missed an audiologist appointment. They signed me up for things I might’ve enjoyed if I actually gave it the effort, but I was too busy thinking how unfair life was when I was a kid.

Watching someone who looked exactly like you living the life you craved was like a dream.

Except it wasn’t a dream to me. It was my reality.

I inhaled, holding it until I could no longer before exhaling through my nose. Trying to replace the pessimism with the happy juice I willed my brain to have twenty-four-seven. Turns out you can’t will your brain to produce happy juice. My production was deficient.

I took my shirt off, grabbing one of Sarge’s long-sleeved black hoodies. I was shocked he had some. All the ones he wore had the sleeves cut off? Maybe he got cold? That heart of his sure was frosty. The clothing engulfed me, going past my knees. Sarge was over a foot taller and much wider than I was, so I had to tuck a lot of the shirt’s material in the waistband of the pants, the excess hanging out. Then, I put the black baseball cap on for fun and maybe a little luck. There was no mirror in here to check out what I looked like, but I’m pretty sure I looked like Sarge if he was short, deaf, and blonde. Oh, and actually showed his face.

I walked to the white dresser, grabbing the balm I put on my ears to soothe the sores I had. I wore these hearing aids upwards of sixteen to twenty hours a day. It just depended on work, classes, and if I had errands to run. I put them in, wincing as the rough plastic brushed the sores these things created after years of wear.

I walked out of the guest bedroom, hearing coffee brewing and the aroma wafting through the house. I inhaled deeply, a smile on my face. Who doesn’t love the smell of coffee? It was a good thing to wake up to. It always just made you happy.

Seeing Sarge in a sleeveless hoodie with the hood blocking his face from view, I greeted him. “Good morning, Sarge.”

---