Page 57 of Where Sinners Repent

“I don’t know about that,” I grumble, Kaleb’s cruel smirk invading my brain.

“Damn, overstimulation torture,” he drawls, smirking as he continues doing my nails. “How’d that feel?”

Breathing deeply, I can’t help but groan out loud. “Better than anything I’ve ever fucking experienced.”

He chuckles before the room falls into an easy silence.

It’s funny. Just a few days ago, I refused to even be in the same room as gang men. Now, I’m willingly in one of their living rooms, letting him pamper me while I tell him about two of them that I’m fucking.

Crazy how things change when you bring a bat down onto someone's skull.

It still doesn’t mean I want anything to do with this lifestyle. I’ll do what I need to do to keep my brothers at bay, then go back to my little life that I carved out of stone.

“I know I should be angry, like I’m not crazy, I know that,” I say, thinking out loud. Leon grabs the red polish and a tiny little brush. “What happened last night was certifiably fucked. So why am I kicking my feet and giggling at the thought of it? The only thing I was mad about was not knowing there were two of them? Does that make me fucking insane?”

Leon hums quietly. “Maybe.”

Well, great.

When he pins me with a look, I feel the mood shift. “I’m sorry to be so forward, but I’ve looked into your brothers. I’m not the most imaginative person, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess what growing up was like for you.”

My throat tightens. He gives me a soft smile.

“So, maybe you aren’t destined for a cute romance that they write books about. Maybe this is exactly what you need.”

My brows furrow as I mull over his words.

“I don’t need men who crave violence,” I mutter. “In fact, I need to be very far away from them.”

Leon screws the polish lid on and puts my nails under the UV light.

“What about me?” he taunts, amusement whirling in his eyes.

I shrug. Maybe my convictions are all muddled up. Maybe I don’t really care right now.

“I can’t really imagine you as the gun-wielding type,” I say truthfully.

Biting his lip, he moves into my space, his hand coming to rest on my throat. Like this, with his face only an inch from mine, I shiver. Because now he looks like the Devil that he is.

“That’s because I rarely ever yield a gun, babe,” he whispers, his breath dusting over my lips. “Anyone can lift a gun and press the trigger. I like to be more... creative. Sometimes I’ll let them fuck me and slip them something that makes them completely paralysed. Then, I can really have my fun and examine the human body. Or maybe I’ll set a trap and catch them like an animal. Make them scream like one.”

My breath gets caught in my throat as I gasp, and the sound draws his attention to my lips.

The look vanishes from his eyes in a second, and he pulls away from me, shrugging.

“Or maybe I don’t kill at all. Who knows?”

What is it and this place for finding the most terrifying men in the world? And why does it make my pussy purr?

I lift my chin, meeting his amused gaze. “Well, mine could be considered creative,” I shrug, feigning a chillness that I certainly don’t feel.

He chuckles softly. “It certainly could be.”

The timer goes off for the UV light, and he pulls my nails back towards him, grabbing a clear coat.

“So, moving on from... whatever that was,” I clear my throat. “Tell me about Griff.”

His smile goes from ear to ear now.