Unleashing Sin - A. M. Wilson Page 0,27

a log and have a seat, keeping watch until I see Elias’s truck pull up.

It kills me the way she runs to him. He gets out to greet her, and she slams into his arms, nearly knocking him on his ass. He brushes her face before walking her to the passenger side and helping her in.

They’ve long since driven away before I finally extricate myself from the log and head back to my bike.

Chapter Seven

Sin

Distance. I’ve made her my bitch.

Two weeks of me, myself, and I off the grid. I hired a manager to run Sinclair’s and took off.

I didn’t actually go anywhere. Just back to my own shithole apartment. Nearly a month has passed since I’ve been there, but in its current state, it looks like I haven’t been there in a year.

The more time I spent around Shelby and Elias, the more I realized it wasn’t doing me any good.

That girl brought Molly right back to the surface. It fucking sucked. As if I don’t have enough problems dealing with my dead sister and dead father. The constant reminder staring me in the face like some lost puppy wasn’t helping things.

I haven’t seen her since I left her on the side of the road. At this point, she and Elias have to be nice and cozy at his place, working on their new relationship. After all, he’s the gallant knight riding in on his white horse to save the day.

I’m the villain of this story.

The bathroom door swings open, and the woman from last night saunters out—naked, dirty, and begging for a fix. Too bad for her, I’m nearly out.

“Got a light?” She drops down beside me on the worn-out tan couch in my living room.

You’d think I’d have nicer shit coming from a loaded family, but you’d have thought wrong. I don’t give a damn about my possessions, much less about something that’s sole purpose is a fixture for my ass.

I toss the navy blue lighter at her. It skitters along the coffee table before clinking against the empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“Thanks.”

Heavy tendrils of smoke drift toward the ceiling from the tip of her lit cigarette.

“I’ve gotta work at three. Can you give me a ride?”

“No.”

She flicks her ash into an empty beer can. “Why you gotta be such an ass?” Her lips tighten around the cigarette filter as she takes a heavy drag.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip to hold back a curse when she intentionally blows that shit in my face.

“Didn’t I let you fuck me enough last night? What about once more for a ride to work?”

The entire contents of my stomach threaten to return with that one sentence. I never realized how disgusting it was to make jokes about trading sexual favors. If I really thought about it, I’m sure I’ve said the same thing a hundred times to women in my past. Now, all I can think of is Molly, Shelby, and the countless other women who are trafficked and sold for sex all over the world.

“Just shut the fuck up!” I shout, startling us both.

“Jesus, Sin. You need a fix or something.”

“Get the hell out,” I growl, my hands curling into fists.

“Whatever.” Casey wanders into the bedroom, gathers her things, and gets dressed. When she walks back into the room, she stops in front of me, planting her hands on her hips.

I can’t help taking her in again, wondering what the fuck I was thinking last night. Her stringy hair is a dirty blond, made even more so by the grease. She’s about six sizes too thin and overall worn-out looking. I must have been higher than fuck to willingly bring her home with me. I don’t even remember where I found her.

“You might be a dick, but you’ve also got a nice one.” She looks pointedly at my crotch. “If you want to screw again, you’ve got my number.”

I don’t reply. What I do is give her a glare I know says shut the hell up and get out. I breathe easier when she complies.

Once I’m alone, my eyelids start to sink, so I stretch out on the couch. I don’t know the last time I had a good night’s sleep. If I were honest with myself, I’d have to say it was the night Shelby slept in my arms. That memory seems so long ago; it’s as if it were a dream.

I drift in and out. What feels like five minutes later, a pounding comes at

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