Page 50 of Sinful
Her face has gone from pale to gray.
Then she runs.
Bolts for the door, moving fast, like if she stays one more second she'll break apart.
I watch her go.
Watch her flee from the consequences of what she did.
And I understand—maybe for the first time since the fire—what it feels like to carry guilt so heavy it crushes you.
To know you're responsible for someone's suffering.
To wish you could take it back but know you can't.
She killed Andrés to avenge what he did to her.
And that single act of revenge is destroying everyone she loves.
"We ride tonight," Runes is saying, his voice cutting through the chaos. "I don't care if we're ready or not. I don't care what it costs. We're getting Ivar back. Now."
"Agreed," Damon says.
"Shotgun Saints is in," I hear myself say. "Whatever you need."
Runes looks at me. "Then suit up. We leave in two hours."
I nod.
But my mind is already elsewhere.
On a blonde girl with dead eyes who's running again.
Who's been running for three years.
And who I suspect is about to do something incredibly stupid to save her father.
Even if it means sacrificing herself.
CHAPTER SIX
Helle
I make it to the tree line before my knees give out.
The woods behind the clubhouse have always been my escape.
When I was a kid, I'd run here after Dad yelled at me, after Elfe got praise I never earned, after club events where I felt invisible.
The oaks are old—older than the club, older than the compound, maybe older than Florida itself.
Their branches create a canopy so thick the sunlight barely penetrates.
It's dark here. Quiet.
Perfect place to fall apart.
I collapse against a tree trunk, bark rough against my back, and finally let myself break.
