Page 4 of Ruined By Sin

"Please," I whimper one more time, and the man he called Dracon grabs my neck hard and jerks me back toward the trunk where he shoves me in.

My head knocks on the latch, and I feel blood trickle down my temple as I fall into the tiny compartment. And after he shoves my legs and feet in, the trunk slams shut and I'm plunged into darkness.

I don't even know what to think. Why did they not kill me like the others? Do they need me for some reason? Is this a kidnapping? My mind races a million miles an hour until the car hits a pothole and jerks hard. It throws my body into the roof of the trunk and shakes something loose in my thoughts.

I saw a show where a woman in a trunk was able to get help by busting out the tail light and signaling for help. I have no other chance at escape right now, so I twist my body around and contort until my legs can reach the tail light, then I kick hard. Once, twice, three times, and on the fourth kick, the plastic housing cracks loose. Cold air rushes through the hole and I shove my hands out into it, spreading my fingers as wide as they'll go and waving, praying that somebody driving behind thiscar will see a woman's hands reaching out of a trunk and care enough to help.

But it's no use. I don’t know where they're taking me or even how long I'm in that trunk, but when the car stops, I hear the men cursing about the broken tail light and then the trunk opens.

And before I can even protest, the man with the scarred face hits me with the butt of his pistol and everything goes black.

3

TIMUR

I've been on pins and needles all evening after learning that Morin planned the strike we discussed. I spoke briefly with my brother about this, and he supported my decision to move on this intel as quickly as possible, though I'm sure he was uneasy about it like me. But we can't wait for the next axe to fall if we see it lined up.

When a man you trust gives you credible information that someone's out to get you, you trust him. And in this case, the man is a friend who goes back decades and his intel is solid. I just wish I'd have gone with them. Maybe I'd have a better grip on my stress level.

As it is, I've been pacing the kitchen waiting for an update while sipping on whiskey. Last I heard forty minutes ago, they were lining up to move in, and the strike would take out several higher-ups in Mirov's structure. The very least this would do is send a message, but likely, it would begin to cripple them. If he moved quickly on the rest of the plan, we could have the entire family wiped out for years.

So when he stalked into my kitchen with a bound woman draped over his shoulder and blood dripping from a cut on her forehead, I was shocked.

"What the hell is this?" I set the glass down hard enough that the whiskey sloshes over the rim.

Morin grins at me, like he's done something clever, and shifts the woman's weight on his shoulder as he walks past me into the living room. "Relax. She's a gift."

"A gift?" I follow him, confused about his "gift" or why he would think I would want a human being at all. And what does he think I'm gonna do with this gift?

"From the raid. We found her at the Mirov meeting spot." He drops her onto the couch carelessly, letting her limbs flop around, then cuts the zip ties on her hands and feet. Her head lolls to the side and I can see the swelling near her hairline where someone or something hit her. "Look, we didn’t have to keep her around, but you know... I thought you'd enjoy a romp or something. She's hot." He shrugs callously, as if I'd ever stoop to raping a woman just to get off. I narrow my eyes at him and wonder what the fuck goes through his head sometimes.

My pulse climbs, burning through my chest. I haven't felt so angry at him in a long time, and if he hadn’t saved my life, I'd probably have a much less muted response. "A romp?"

"Yeah." He straightens up and wipes his hands on his jacket like he's just finished a task. "Thought you could have some fun. Blow off some steam. You've been wound tight for weeks, Tim. She's pretty, right? Use her, get rid of her, whatever you want."

I am stunned to silence as sheer stupor wraps around my brain, stopping any logical thought from processing for the moment.Morin walks past me to my kitchen for a drink while I stand over the woman who is slowly coming to on my couch. She struggles to blink her eyes open, but they shut again instantly, just as he returns with a bottle of my good vodka, taking a swig.

"Get rid of her," I grumble. "I can't believe you thought I'd be like that. Who are you anymore?" The disgust on my face must be obvious because Morin's grin fades.

"Tim—"

"Don't." I hold my hands up, palms out, and he shuts up immediately. "This is not what we do. This is not whatIdo. You fucking know that."

He stands there glowering angrily at me, but the anger starts to evaporate as he realizes I'm not changing my mind. Then his head hangs and he runs a hand through his hair before his eyes rise to meet mine. "Alright," he says quietly. "I screwed up." His head bobs and he looks back down at her.

"Yeah. You did."

I would tear into him, but my conscience stops me. Morin exists in a gray area that I've tolerated for years because of the night he saved my life, but I’m starting to think that debt has been too heavy to carry around. Still, I lug it with me in my mind everywhere I go. I just can't tolerate him sometimes.

Still, it doesn't buy him this. This is unacceptable by any standards, but if Roman heard about it, there'd be hell to pay.

"How'd the raid go?" My anger hasn't cooled at all, but I need this update before he leaves.

"It went seamlessly, buddy. Let me tell you... They never saw us coming. We wiped out every one of the heads... This one" —hethrows a thumb over his shoulder— "hid under a table... I can handle her if you want. Just gonna have to be creative now."

"No. Just get out of my house." I glower at him and look at the woman. One helpless young woman doesn't pose much of a threat yet, though she's probably seen his face and can identify him. But having murder on my conscience screws with my sleep. Now that I've seen her face, I have to know whether she's dangerous before I make any rash decisions.

Morin grumbles a few things I don't quite catch, but I'm angry enough with him that I don’t ask him what he said as he stalks to the door. When it closes behind him, I sigh through my nose and stand there, staring at the woman on my couch.