Page 54 of Sins of the Hidden

V leaned against the wall, his imposing frame casting a shadow across the ruined space as he scanned the destruction with an assessing rather than remorseful gaze.

"Use the clubhouse kitchen until yours is done."

"The clubhouse? I can't just—" My voice faltered as his expression hardened before fully registering what he said. "My what?

His dark eyes trailed down my body with an intensity that raised goosebumps in their wake. "Get dressed."

My legs moved forward automatically, brain lagging behind. Glancing down at my oversized shirt barely covering my thighs, I froze, suddenly aware of how exposed I was. The urgency of the kitchen disaster warred with modesty as I scrambled to gather my thoughts.

"O-Okay." The word escaped before I could stop it, small but steadier than I felt. I was too stunned to be mad, I would be later.

V didn't move, just watched. Twisting my shirt hem between fidgeting fingers, the cotton bunched in my nervous grasp. "C-can you leave?"

His gaze raked over me again, from my tousled hair down to my bare toes. One dark eyebrow lifted. "Already seen everything."

The room shrank around his massive frame. I swallowed hard enough to hear the click in my throat, heat blooming across my cheeks and spreading down my neck. "C-Can you look away at least?"

He didn't turn away. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on me as he leaned harder against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest.

Sighing in defeat, I reached for my leggings. Pulling them on with my back to him, catching against tender skin as I pulled them up. A small wince escaped when the waistband settled against the tender marks on my hips.

My drawer scraped open as I yanked out a bra. With my back still turned, I tugged and twisted, arms contorting as I worked it on under my shirt. The hooks refused to catch. Once. Twice. The third attempt clicked into place. All the while, I felt his eyes on me, patient and unwavering.

When I turned to face him, his disappointment was obvious—eyes narrowed, tension creasing his forehead. A muscle in his jaw twitched beneath the mask. I bit my lip hard, fighting back an unexpected laugh at his frustration.

He turned abruptly, stalking toward the front door without waiting, leaving ashy footprints on my floor. Grabbing keys and phone, I hurried after him, nearly colliding with his broad back when he stopped at the threshold. His large hand caught my wrist, palm warm against my skin. With careful guidance, he led me through the doorway ahead of him, his presence solid and reassuring behind me as we stepped into the sunshine.

Morning heat had already begun to build, sunlight stronger now. V strode to his motorcycle at the curb, long legs covering the distance with effortless grace, knowing I would follow. He had parked his motorcycle behind my car. V threw his leg over his bike, rumbling to life beneath him before I started my car. "Follow me."

Driving behind him, my stomach twisted, sick and strange with each bump in the road. Sunday morning roads remained empty except for occasional walkers and Diamond Java customers. Minutes later, we hit downtown. I saw people glance at V before quickly diverting their attention.

I parked behind him, stepping onto pavement scattered with broken glass. We approached what had once been the main street's crown jewel—old Diamond's Bakery, vacant for years since its owners retired to Florida. A town landmark for decades, its prime location made the extended vacancy surprising.

It was the place I was currently saving up to buy for Sweet Summer's.

Stepping up beside V, turning to face an abandoned structure with shattered windows and broken glass bottles littering the exterior. Angry red graffiti covered one wall—demonic figures with gaping maws reaching for fleeing stick forms. His boots crunched over debris as he unlocked the door. Curiosity overrode caution as I followed him inside.

The abandoned interior assaulted my senses: sharp tang of rusted metal, musty thickness of mold-laden air, and bitter dust coating my tongue. The smoke still clung—bitter, stubborn, refusing to fade. Needles and broken glass crunched beneath my sneakers. Vibrant red and black gang tags covered walls around a small register counter scarred by cigarette burns and chipped wood from knife marks.

A shattered mirror hung crooked on the wall, and for a moment, my reflection caught me off guard. The dust and dim light couldn't disguise my flushed cheeks or the way my jade eyes were wide with anxiety.

As we ventured deeper, my fingers flew to my nose, pinching against the thick stench of decay. V moved ahead, examining a crumbling counter. A sudden groan echoed above, and my gaze snapped upward just as the ceiling broke open. Long fractures split through the plaster, chunks peeling free and dropping straight toward me. Wood slats buckled mid-air, scattering pieces in every direction.

V slammed into me, driving us backward until my spine collided with cold brick. The impact punched the air from my lungs. His massive frame enveloped me, chest heaving against mine, muscles straining as he shielded me from the falling chaos. His forearms caged my head, veins bulging, his fists pressed so tight the skin split at the joints. Chunks explodedacross his shoulders, plaster bursting like shrapnel mere inches from my skin.

Dust filled the gap between us, thick in my nose and throat. I trembled beneath him, feeling each jolt of his heart through my shirt. His masked face hovered inches from mine, heat rolling off him and ghosting across my mouth.

The initial adrenaline from our near-miss gradually shifted into something more complex. My heartbeat shifted from panic to something heavier, awareness narrowing sharply to every point our bodies connected. He hovered inches from my face while he looked at me frantically.

"Okay?" The question rumbled from his chest.

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

He remained motionless even after the debris settled. One hand released the wall to brush plaster from my hair, his knuckles grazing my cheek as he did. I flinched at the contact, but didn't pull away. His chest expanded against mine with each breath while his gaze traveled over my face, lingering on parted lips. V shifted beside me, moving to bracket my body with his arms on either side of my head. His cut creaked as he leaned in, then abruptly pushed off the wall. When he finally moved away, muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he put distance between us, the absence of his body heat left me shivering despite the morning warmth.

Taking a moment to look around, really seeing the disaster the building had become. Broken boards, shattered glass, and years of neglect surrounded us. The ceiling joists sagged ominously overhead, looking like they might give way any second and bury us both in debris.

The question snagged on my tongue, warped by too many feelings at once. "Why are we here?—"

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