Page 60 of Sinners Condemned

I catch a glimpse of the small smirk tilting his lips before I turn toward the door. I’m twisting the doorknob when his low, syrupy words trickle along my nerve endings. He mutters them from the shadows, but I hear them like he yelled them into a megaphone.

“Bet you don’t last the night.”

My shoulders hitch, and a familiar thrill coasts down my spine. “Bet you twenty bucks I do.”

“Bet you fifty.”

I run my tongue over my teeth, hot, bitter annoyance swelling inside of me. “Yes, sir.”

The lure of freedom and an orange glow wash over me as I open the door to the bridge.

“Penelope.”

My lids flutter shut. So close.

“It’s yes, boss.”

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