Page 8 of Sins of Bliss

The soft click of the door upon his exit tells me I’m alone again, and this time, as I listen to the sounds of the machines and glue my eyes shut, I let myself experience all the pain—both physical and mental—knowing that it’s been too long since I’ve allowed myself to.

Chapter 3

Sly

My nap is cut short when another nurse enters my room with a tray of food. Her smile is friendly, and as she places it down in front of me, she asks how I am feeling. At this point, I am irritable. No one has answered me as to whether Rosie and Cain are okay, and I am beginning to wonder if I am getting the runaround.

“Do you happen to know if there is a Rosie Adler or a Cain Michaels admitted here?” I ask, picking up the Jell-O cup from my tray. It looks disgusting, but I rip the foiled top from the container and pick up a spoon, regardless.

“I know Miss Adler is no longer a patient, sir. But aside from that, I don’t have any information for you.”

Relief rushes through me. “Please, I need to reach her.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she assures me as she turns to leave the room.

She barely passes through the threshold when footsteps sound in the hallway, and my assigned nurse glides through the open door and over to me, checking my machines. But it’s who’s behind her that stops me in my tracks.

“Mia preferita,” I breathe. My relief is mirrored on her face as she hurries toward me. I reach my hand out for her to grab,and she takes it without hesitation. “I’m so relieved to see you in front of me. I was worried when I woke—it took two nurses before I learned you’d been discharged. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m okay,” she reassures. “Minor injuries compared to yours. Areyouokay, Sly? How are you feeling?

“I feel stiff, but other than that, I am still here and cannot complain, bella. I’m just so happy to see you and Cain.”

At the mention of his name, Cain steps closer, and Rosie moves my hand to his. I squeeze it reassuringly and smile at him.

“Good to see you, brother,” Cain says, his voice thick with emotion. It makes me realize exactly how terrifying this situation was for all of us.

Setting my hand down, he walks back to Rosie and rubs his hands along her shoulders. “You saved my girl, Sly. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

Rosie and Cain look at each other, speaking loudly through unspoken words. Their love has bloomed so much in these last few months, and I am so happy Rosie was able to let her walls down and allow him to show her the man he is today.

“I would give my life for either one of you if it meant you two continued to have each other. But I didn’t save her, mio amico. If anything, I caused her injury.” My brows come together as fractured memories of the shooting play in my mind. “Rosie, I watched your head slam into the pavement with unwavering force. I am so sorry, bella. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, but Cain cuts her off, shaking his head animatedly.

“Had you not pushed her, the bullet you took would have hit her. You saved her. There is no point in trying to change the narrative because whichever way you try to spin it, it will always end the same: you saved Rose’s life. Don’t bother arguing.”

I’ve learned over my months in Ridgewood that arguing with Cain, the president of The Sinners Warlord, is a waste of time. Instead, I nod and look back at Rosie.

“I’m just grateful we are both still here,” I tell her as I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. I can feel tears prick the back of my eyes, an overwhelming sense of gratitude weighing upon me.

“It’s more than some can say,” she murmurs. My eyes instantly snap to Cain.

“Who?” I demand, knowing immediately we weren’t all so lucky during this attack.

“Preston,” Cain tells me soberly, and my heart instantly aches for my friend Nixon.

Nixon is the one who found me in a tattoo parlor back when I first arrived, drowning my sorrows in ink. Had I not met Nixon, I wouldn’t have been initiated into the Sinners and found this family.

Preston, the man we lost, was Nixon’s cousin. He was young. Too young.

“And the rest of the Sinners?” I ask. Cain dives into updating me on the conditions of the rest of the members, all of whom are fine or sustained very minor injuries.

It appears Preston and I took the worst hits, followed by Rosie’s injuries.

“What is the plan, mio amico? Will we retaliate?”

The Reapers Wings, a neighboring town's motorcycle gang, were the ones who did this. Unlike us, their club wasn’t formed to help its city’s citizens. The Reapers were bad news and held a grudge against Cain for ending the life of one of their members.

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