Page 111 of Sinful
What if the war changes him and he comes back different, distant, not wanting the future we talked about?
What if he doesn't come back at all?
What if I just burned my entire life down for nothing but ashes and broken promises?
I lean forward, head in my hands, trying to breathe through it.
But then I think about the way he looks at me.
Like I'm the only person in the room.
Like I matter more than anything else in his world.
Like he sees me—really sees me—not the girl who betrayed her club, not the racer hiding behind a nickname, not the bartender surviving day to day.
Just me. Helle.
The person I actually am underneath all the armor.
I think about how he followed me into a Los Coyotes safehouse without hesitation.
How he fought beside me like we'd been doing it for years.
How he held me in the woods while dawn broke around us and told me he loved me like it was the most important thing he'd ever said.
And I realize something.
I'm not doing this for him.
I'm doing it forme.
Because that life in Austin was half-lived.
Survival mode.
Hiding behind fake names and shitty apartments and underground racing circuits where I risked my life for money instead of joy.
I deserve more than that.
I deserve hope. I deserve a future. I deserve to stop running and start living.
Even if it's terrifying.
Especially because it's terrifying.
Elfe finds me, still sitting by the fence.
"You look like you're having a crisis," she says, dropping down beside me on the grass.
"I just quit my job and ended my lease."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Okay. That's... decisive."
"Am I insane?"
"Probably." She bumps her shoulder against mine. "But when has that stopped you? You've always been the crazy one. Climbing too high, riding too fast, feeling too much."
Despite everything, I laugh. It comes out shaky but real.
