Page 69 of In the Light of Sin

Maybe if we were different people and not a man who was too afraid to let the world see the true side of him and a woman who thought her fake smiles fooled everyone–maybe we would have a chance together. But the way we were now, there was no hope.

Broken people can’t love each other. The jagged edges of our shattered pieces would only cut each other deeper.

I let myself linger longer than I planned, struggling to remove myself from her. If I was strong enough to pull myself away, we wouldn’t be here. But this woman brought me to my damn knees, an invisible string always bringing me back to her warmth.

I always thought the dark was warm and comforting, but it didn’t compare to the light Joslyn consumed me with.

I pulled back, my thumb brushing her bottom lip, feeling the fleeting warmth I had left behind.

She’d never know I’d given her my first kiss.

With extreme effort, I pulled away from her tempting lips, straightening to take in all of her body sprawled on my bed with my hand still connected to her flush cheek. Implanting the vision of her curled up peacefully on my bed.

My fingertips ran down her cheek until they hit the jawline, feeling the loss of her when I didn’t feel her warmth under my fingers anymore.

I turned my back to her, walking to the open doorway. I wish I was stronger, but I couldn’t resist peeking back.

She was where she belonged, safe under the guidance of the moonlight…

Safe away from me.

Chapter 17: Joslyn

I woke up in a comfortable bed, my mind fogged over with remnants of sleep as I struggled to open my eyes. How tired was I? And why did my back hurt?

Groggily, my eyes opened as I sat up. I stretched my back, rubbing a harsh ache I felt. My eyes were blurry as I looked around the room, my vision clearing as I found myself in a place I instantly recognized.

I looked to the side of the bed–the made bed. I wouldn’t know if Sarge was here with me, but I doubted he was. He never slept in the same bed with me. I frowned. How did I get here? The last thing I remembered–

I gasped, jumping up from the bed and out of Sarge’s guest room, the previous night’s events running clearly through my mind once my brain fog dissipated.

I was anxiously waiting to get off work. Sarge said they had church, so Victoria was picking up Nyla and me. I was bummed, but he told me he’d see me at the clubhouse. My smile was blinding at the thought of seeing Sarge. I almost didn’t wait for Victoria to fully put her car in park as I rushed out of her Camry, ran up the steps, and pushed the front door open, expecting to see his large figure leaning against the wall next to the door where he usually was waiting for me on the days where they had church, and Victoria picked me up.

My smile dropped instantly as I saw a group of men circling around a lone body on the floor. My hands cupped my mouth, assuming the worst, as I watched Hex pull a needle out of his neck while all the brothers besides V, Darrell, and Mitchell watched. What did they do to him? I rushed towards the crowd, slipping and almost falling when I stepped on something slick. I looked down, my body freezing, as I saw the smeared blood on the floor.

Oh God, please don’t let it be his.

I looked at the group, who I knew I had the attention of. I wasn’t concerned with their stares as my eyes refused to leave Sarge’s unconscious form as Nyla ran past me to get to her husband. “What happened?”

Mitchell looked at her with a distant look, the haunted eyes reminding me of when he was struggling with his urges to fall prey to the vice that kept him in a death grip. They were similar to mine when I was craving just a drop of alcohol. “He had to be sedated.”

I looked away from Sarge briefly to question Mitchell, “Why?”

“Got too out of control,” Darrell clipped. I looked at him, his hate-filled look not lost on me. I looked at his forehead, a large gash with dried blood surrounding it. My throat dries instantly, panic settling in as the knot in my throat grows too thick to swallow past. Did Sarge do that to him?

I turned around, looking at the droplets of blood on the floor. “Is that his blood?”

“Don’t you worry about it,” Darrell’s harsh words almost made me flinch. He’s been cold and snappy with me recently, and I don’t know why. “You can leave. We’ll take care of him.”

Absolutely not. With as much courage as I could muster up, I stood between Sarge and Darrell. He eyed me curiously with disdain still laced in his vision. I glanced at Nyla, who was combing her hand through her husband’s hair comfortably while looking at me and her father with a hopeless stare. I turned my attention back to him, pushing any discomfort I felt in favor of Sarge. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t say anything but continued to look at me like his stare would eventually scare me away. But I wouldn’t leave. The only way they could get me away from protecting Sarge was death. I walked over to him, his head awkwardly tilted back, looking very uncomfortable as his chest matched his shallow breathing. I sat next to him. They would have to drag me away from him and lock me up if they truly wanted me to leave.

“Not like we can do anythin’,” I heard Tyrant defending me. His voice wasn’t his usual carefree self. It was more strained. I wasn’t sure what led up to Sarge having to be knocked out, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. “Gotta leave him here until he wakes up.”

I swiveled my head to him, noticing how his brawny cheek was reddened. His pale blue eyes, usually so full of life, had very little to spare.“You’re just going to leave him here?” On the cold, hard floor alone?

Knight shrugged next to him. “Can’t exactly pick him up, Jos, this fucker is heavy.”

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