Page 54 of Sinful

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"Helle—"

"I'm doing this. Tonight. As soon as everyone's distracted." I stand up, brushing dirt off my jeans. "You can hate me for it. But at least Dad will be alive to hate me too."

"I don't hate you." Her voice is small. Broken. "I'm terrified for you."

"I know." I crouch down, pull her into a hug. She holds on tight, face pressed against my shoulder, and I memorize this moment. This feeling.

Because there's a good chance I'm never coming back.

"I love you," I whisper. "Take care of Mom. And Dad. Tell them?—"

"Tell them yourself." She pulls back, wiping her eyes. "When you come home."

I don't answer.

I can't promise something I don't believe.

Instead, I kiss her forehead and start walking back toward the compound.

She doesn't follow.

The clubhouse is chaos when I get back.

Members everywhere, gearing up for war. Weapons being distributed, bikes being prepped, tactical discussions happening in angry clusters.

Runes is in the center of it all, issuing orders like a general preparing for battle.

"Two teams," he's saying. "One for extraction, one for cover. We hit them fast and hard, get Ivar out before they know what's happening."

"What if they're expecting us?" someone asks.

"Then we fight our way out." Runes's face is cold. "Either way, Ivar comes home tonight. Even if we have to burn Los Coyotes to the fucking ground to do it."

Roars of agreement.

These men are ready to die for my father.

Because that's what club means. What family means.

And I'm about to betray them all. Again.

I slip through the crowd, heading for the stairs. I need to get to my old room, grab what I need, get out before anyone notices.

"Helle."

Fuck.

I turn. Bravos is standing behind me, arms crossed, dead eyes seeing too much.

"Need to talk to you."

"Not now. I'm busy."

"Make time." It's not a request.

I glance around. No one's paying attention to us—too focused on the mission prep.

"Fine. Upstairs."

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