Page 2 of Where Sinners Repent

“My friend is about to pick me up,” I grit out. “You need to leave.”

Jacob throws his head back, laughter spilling from his throat. The sound makes my fingers tremble before I ball them into fists.

It’s the same sound I used to hear when he slipped into my bed, time after time, while my brothers partied in the room next door. The same sound he’d make when I’d cry, after he took everything from me.

Eventually, I stopped crying. And eventually, he stopped laughing.

“Even if that were true,” he starts, taking a slow step in my direction, “I’m sure they’d love to watch what I’m about to do to the little traitor.”

He takes another step, and I follow, my back hitting the wall behind me.

“You’ve seen what we do to traitors, haven’t you, Roxanne?” he murmurs, sliding his hands into his pockets as he takes another step.

Trying not to give myself away, I search for the one person who might help me.

Okay, she’s not a person.

But she’s the closest thing I’ve had to a best friend before Maddy walked into my life.

She leans against the wall next to one of the tables.

He continues his advance, slow and confident. “I’m sure you can only imagine what your brothers have been thinking, since you ran away...” That sickening fake pout twists again. “They’re worried about you.”

“Bullshit,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

He chuckles, though no humour graces his eyes. The only thing swirling in those green orbs is sickening heat. Sliding against the wall, I sidestep in the direction of the table. In the direction of Kitty.

The old baseball bat that got me out of the clutches of evil the first time. My saving grace.

He follows, faster this time, growing impatient.

“I promised I’d come find you,” he says, grinning, “but not after I have a little fun. I’m hungry, Roxanne. You’ve deprived me for too long.”

My lips clench together, trapping the whimper that begs to be released. I won’t give him my fear. Not again. Never again.

Three more steps. Three more steps for a chance to get out of this. Because if I have to endure one more second of Jacob’s brand of cruelty, I’m not sure I’ll come out of it alive.

The last time, it took me years to claw my way out of the darkness. Years of waking up in the middle of the night screaming until my lungs gave out, and my body was covered in scratches from my own nails. The need to claw my dirty skin from my flesh, all-consuming in my mind.

No. This time would be the end. Of that, I’m sure.

Two more steps.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, voice turning feral in an instant. “If you thought I was bad all those years ago, just you fucking wait. You’re ours, and I’ll make sure you fucking remember that.”

He pounces, his hard body colliding with mine as we crash into the table.

Every cell in my body recoils from his touch. His heat. His strength. The smell of weed and rum. Like it remembers, even after all those years.

I cry out, my body turning feral in an instant. Nails scrape skin, and legs kick. Everything inside me fights to get him away.

He curses as my long, red nails scrape down his face, blood blooming from the scratches.

“Fucking bitch!” he grunts.

But it’s useless. Too strong and too big, his body doesn’t relent. Through layers of clothing, I feel his erection pressing against me. A sob rips from my chest.

No, no, no. Not again. Please, not again.