Unleashing Sin - A. M. Wilson Page 0,12

Elias, I crouch down and hold my hands up. In the gentlest tone an angry bastard of my size can muster, I try to calm her. “I won’t hurt you. You’re bleeding, and I need to help you.”

She drops from her palm to her elbow and tries dragging herself backward.

Fuck this. “Stop!” I command again.

She instantly freezes.

“Look at me.”

Her throat works on a swallow. But then, slowly, she lifts her eyes to mine.

I try to ignore the punch to my gut. “I’m gonna lift you, carry you to the bathroom, and clean out the glass from your hands and knees. Got it?”

Then the most fucked-up thing happens. I watch as those two watery eyes of hers go completely dead and shutter against the world. Blank. Lifeless. Empty.

“Whatever you wish,” she says in a monotone, robotic voice.

Oh, fuck.

“Stay with me. Don’t give me that shit. You aren’t back there, you hear me? You are here.” My heart pumps wildly. Picking her up, I rush down the hall to the bathroom and set her gently on her feet. “Stay with me. Say something. Tell me my name.”

While I dig in the cabinet beneath the sink, she responds. “I don’t need your name to give you what you want.”

My head whips around to look at her. “You aren’t back there, girl. Tell me my name.”

“I can suck your dick for fifty, but sex is two hundred.”

Jesus Christ!

I find the kit, slam it on the counter, and surge to my feet. When my hand hooks around her neck, she doesn’t even flinch, and I pull her so we are face to face. “Sin. My name is Sin, and you are safe.”

It doesn’t work.

For the first time in a long time, I feel something akin to fear.

If I can’t snap her out of it, I need to at least get her cleaned up. I drop to my knees without breaking my fall, but the pain doesn’t register. The only thing I feel is a desperate need to get this girl back to reality and cleaned up. Then I can get on my bike and get the fuck out.

Cupping the back of her right knee with one hand, I rinse her wounds with water from a saturated rag. Bloodied rivulets of water course down her shin and calf, dripping steadily to the floor. With the blood washed away, several shards of glass glisten from where they’re embedded into her skin.

After snagging the kit and the tweezers, I peek up at her. The girl stands stoically. Face pale and hair hanging limp, she doesn’t even twitch.

She’s still lost in the world her body no longer resides in, but her mind has never left.

My jaw clenches. This shouldn’t happen. Not to her, not to Molly. Not to any living, breathing human on this god-forsaken planet.

After I find a clean disposable cup in the drawer, I set to work. She’s so far gone I don’t even bother telling her to prepare herself.

The shards plink together as I move from one knee to the next. The girl never changes her position except to allow me to switch legs.

Man or not, I keep my eyes averted from the hem of the shirt, and my mind away from what she might or might not have on underneath it. I’m the worst type of bastard, but even I have my limits.

That’s all shot to hell when I finish on the left leg and pull my hand away from the back of her knee. Blood. More fresh blood.

“Girl, I need you to turn around.” I don’t wait for a response that won’t come. As gently as I can, I grasp her hips and start to turn her around.

Fucking hell.

The woman has glass shards stuck in the soft curve of her ass.

I should call Elias and tell him to deal with this shit. This is a situation I want nothing to do with. She’s halfway catatonic, and I have to figure out how to touch her without making the traumatized girl feel violated. I’d rather go back out there and roll around in the broken glass myself.

“You’ve got glass stuck to your ass, girl. I need you to snap out of it.”

My brows snap together, and I roll my lips between my teeth. She’s not facing me, but I can see how hard she’s suddenly trembling. Finally, a sign of life.

I gentle my voice even though no amount of effort can disguise the gruff sound. The command comes out steady. “I know you can hear