Page 77 of Sinners Atone
What’s that supposed to mean?
I turn around, making the mistake of not bracing myself for the view.
Gabriel’s profile is razor sharp and just as lethal. Corded muscles flex and contract; his tattoos dance beneath the light. His bicep must be as thick as my waist, and I can’t help but stare at the bulging vein running down the side of it when he tightens something with a wrench.
I clear my throat. In response, Gabriel readjusts the AirPod in his ear, seemingly irritated, before reaching deeper into the hood.
I hover for a moment. No small talk in my locker, not a cohesive thought in my brain. I settle for turning around and looking in the box again, but my hand holds a tremor, and when I tug back the flap, it topples sideways and crashes to the floor.
It’s only cable ties. They’re made from light plastic, so the deafening clap of metal makes little sense.
No sooner does a breathy “Oops” leave my lips do large hands grip my waist and drag me backward. A low growl grazes the sensitive spot behind my ear.
“Stop. Touching. Things.”
The garage spins in a yellow haze. I fight against the wall of black closing in on me. I’m all elbows and ragged breaths—stuttering heartbeats and heat. I move to strike his ribs like he taught me, but he catches my wrist, then grabs the other as it flies past his face.
With a viselike grip, he holds them above my head in one hand, pulling me so taut a burning sensation spreads between my shoulder blades.
“Getoffme,” I squeal, my heels rising and the toes of my slippers scraping against the concrete.
In response, his free hand curls around the knot of my robe tie, and he yanks me closer. My chest collides with his bare torso, and the impact ignites somethingungodlywithin me. I’m spinning, spiraling, so focused on the pressure of Gabriel’s knuckles digging into my stomach that I can’t think straight.
He flexes his grip on the knot and flashes me a look of molten resentment.
Then he pulls.
“No—”
It’s too late. The tie slides out from my belt loops with a friction-filled sweep, and my robe falls open.
A breath of shock leaves my lips, and I jerk my head back, watching helplessly as Gabriel ties my wrists to a looped chainhanging from the ceiling with my own belt. His jaw clenches from the force he uses to give the knot a final tug.
Taking a step back, he folds his arms across his stomach and glares at me. “Lesson two: free yourself.”
The rain thrashes on the roof, my heart beats on my ribs, and the two sounds become indistinguishable from one another. But Gabriel, he’s deadly silent. His expression is pulled taut, but his eyes are all flames and no mercy.
It’s only a matter of time before I feel their heat on my skin.
Because it’s only a matter of time before he realizes I’m not decent.
The air crackles with anticipation; my pulse thrums in my ears. Eventually, his shoulders tighten, his eyes narrow, and bitter regret slithers through them.
He flicks a look of self-loathing to the roof beams. The angel wings on his chest expand and contract, then he carves a reluctant path down the opening of my robe.
Every square inch of my flesh catches fire under his scrutiny, my flimsy bikini doing nothing to protect me from the flames. They burn through the wall of my stomach, sizzle beneath my top, tightening my nipples and heating my breasts.
The side door flies open.
“Boss—”
Gabriel doesn’t look up from my chest. He reaches behind him, a slither of silver catches the light, and twopopsring out in quick succession.
There’s a thud to my right, the sound of shattering glass to my left, and in the middle, a blood-curling scream rips straight from my mouth.
I squeeze my eyes shut and yank at the ties so hard my wrists burn. When I open them again, I’m staring into a black void.
A frigid chill coils around me.
