Page 179 of Sin With Me

Her eyes narrow, then flick to the church. “What are you going to do? Roman, don’t—”

God, I want to kiss her so badly right now. Want to use my lips to stifle her panic, to soothe her, to help her, but I can’t. I can’t and it’s killing me.

Instead, I press my thumb to her lips and cock a brow. “I’m not going to do anything but call the cops. They can handle him.”

I expect Eve to sigh in relief, to deflate in my hands and obey my request but she doesn’t. Not even close.

Somehow, she grows more terrified, more frantic, as her head whips back and forth. She grips my wrists, imploring me to listen. “You can’t, Ro, please. He’s, he’s…” She breaks off, her eyes fluttering shut as she takes a deep breath. “He’s from Favorite Fans. I didn’t know, but he did, somehow and I…” Her eyes spring open again. “If you call the cops, he’ll tell them who I am, how he knows me, then everyone will know. Everyone.”

By everyone, she means Isaac. The pure terror in her eyes kills me. But part of me, the part of me that’s festered and writhed, growing over the years like cancer until it consumed me, the hate I have for him, for her, the betrayal that’s only amplified now that I know their filthy little secret…

That part of me smiles at her fear. The way she shakes in my hands. The way she begs.

It wants to ruin her the way she ruined me. The way they both did.

But, it also wants me to be the one to take her down. To make her feel the ugly, bone-deep devastation that I felt when she chose my father over me. I want to be the one to enact that revenge, and not because Marcus is forcing my hand.

So, instead, I swipe her cheeks again and kiss her forehead. “I won’t call the cops, I’ll just make sure he leaves town and doesn’t tell anyone.” The words are whispered against her peach-scented skin and I close my eyes, inhaling her deeply before stepping back. “Now be a good girl and go home. Can you do that for me?”

Her eyes are weary, untrusting, as they flick between mine but then, she’s whispering a defeated okay, and turning around to leave. I watch as she slowly makes her way down the few stairs, then the walkway, checking over her shoulder every few feet.

Finally, when she’s reached the halfway point and I’m sure she’s not coming back, I slide my hand into my pocket and grip my lighter. The thing is small, like an extension of my own hand at this point, but it’s reliable. It’s a comfort, reminding me that I’m the one in control now.

I step into the church silently and let the door quietly click shut behind me. Marcus is awake now, his eyes frenzied as he searches for a way out. I grin. He must have figured out the back door is padlocked from the outside and that the front wasn’t an option.

I cock my head, watching him mutter to himself as his gaze locks on a window near the front. It’s lower to the ground, the browning around the edges giving life to decay and rot. It probably wouldn’t be all that hard to bust through it, but then all my fun would be ruined.

Flick.

His head snaps to me and he pales at whatever he sees etched across my face.

Burn it down.

I step forward, one hand casually in my pocket, the other wrapped around my lighter, as I slowly make my way toward him.

Flick.

“Hey man,” he starts, backing toward the stage. “Whatever you think I did, it’s bullshit. That bitch is nothing but a lying whore.”

I consider stopping his frantic ramble but I don’t. Liars always spill the truth eventually and I’m betting on him accidentally letting it tumble from his bloody lips.

Burn it down.

Marcus trips as he scrambles up the three steps that lead to the stage, but rights himself at the last second. Behind him is the massive bronze cross that Isaac uses as a backdrop, the windows spilling golden light in around it, haloing Marcus.

It’s symbolic, really.

Me standing in the cross-shaped shadow of The Divine light my father likes to bathe himself in.

We’re steps apart now, and he has nowhere to go. “What do you want?” he sputters, his back pressing against the cross. “I don’t want trouble man, she’s not worth it.”

Oh, and that’s where he’s wrong.

Eve is worth everything.

Flick.

I charge forward, my fist colliding with his face as my free hand wraps around his throat, keeping him in place. Marcus snarls, his own fists joining the battle as though he feels he might stand a chance.

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