Sinful Truth

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by Ella Miles


  He was the first man to save me.

  The first man to say he’s sorry.

  The first man to promise to protect me.

  And that means everything.

  I might risk my heart again, even if I already know the outcome. Maybe for a little bit, I can live in this moment of pure happiness. It may not be love, but it could be fucking close.

  “What happened?” I ask, needing to know everything.

  “Julian played me. He wanted you, and I was stupid enough to think he was on my side. I’m sorry.”

  I nod. That’s who Julian is. He has this ability to hide his monster until he’s ready to show it to you, and by then it’s too late.

  “I’m going to kill him for touching you.”

  More tears spring to my eyes. I want that so badly, but it can’t happen for so many reasons Zeke has yet to realize.

  “No, I don’t want you to.”

  He frowns.

  “Just keep me safe from him. Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  And I’ll hold him to that vow.

  “What happened?” Now it’s Zeke’s turn to ask.

  “Julian…hurt me.”

  Zeke wants to know more. Did he rape me? Did he push inside me? That’s what he’s really asking.

  “Was I too late?” Zeke asks.

  I pause. That’s such a complicated question to answer. I try to think, but most of what happened is a blur. My brain pushed it out. Whether Julian raped me or not doesn’t matter. Because what he is really asking is—is it too late for us? Too late to change our future? Too late for us to choose love over hate?

  And that answer is going to hurt.

  Him.

  Me.

  “Yes, you were too late,” I answer honestly with burning tears.

  Zeke’s eyes scorch too.

  I wipe my eyes, needing to change the subject.

  “How about that sin you still have to commit? What will it be?” I ask, needing him to do anything, make me feel anything but this heartache.

  Zeke could have been the one. The one to be strong enough.

  Man enough.

  Loving enough.

  But now it’s too late—and I may have just missed my one chance at ever knowing love.

  Zeke smiles sadly. “I’ve sinned enough for one night.”

  I sigh. I agree. But we need something to get rid of the tension—something to push our thoughts away from what happened.

  “How about a new game of truth or sin?” I ask.

  He nods—of course, he does. Right now, I don’t think Zeke would deny me anything. And somehow that terrifies me.

  24

  Zeke

  I was too late.

  I was too fucking late.

  Those two words, too late, will end me.

  I thought we might be at a beginning after I saved her, not an end. I finally finished debugging the house. I can tell her the truth. I’m ready to face Julian Reed head-on. I could get her out of here.

  But now, I don’t know.

  She hates me, with good reason. If I told her the truth right now, she wouldn’t even believe me.

  And now she wants to play a game of truth or sin.

  Like I have the energy for that.

  But I’ll deny her nothing right now. I’d bring her Julian’s head on a platter if she demanded it. I’d jump into a fire just so she could watch me burn. I’d do anything, fucking anything, for her.

  And she knows it.

  So if she wants me to play, I’ll play. But I don’t want to hurt her. I can’t sin against her. That is the one request I can’t fulfill.

  “I’ll play under one condition,” I say.

  She frowns. “What?”

  “If you don’t answer the question, you get to choose your sin against me, not me.” My voice is vulnerable. I’m telling her exactly who I am in this moment—weak, weak for her.

  She’s wanted control this entire time. Well, now she has it, all of it. I’m giving it all to her—every single drop. I have nothing left. I won’t order her with my voice or my unspoken commands. I’ll ask nothing of her, ever again.

  She nods and gathers herself.

  I’ve long given up stopping the heavy flow of tears. I rarely cry. But I am a sensitive person, so it does happen, just usually not in front of someone else. I can normally wait until I’m by myself to let loose.

  “You go first,” I say.

  Lines form around her eyes and mouth as she thinks. It’s adorable as always and distracts me from the physical pain on her face.

  “Why did you buy me?” she asks.

  She chose her question well tonight. And I don’t know whether to answer her with the truth or let her commit a sin. I’ll give her whichever she needs.

  So I take my time, reading her face. She wants the truth, but not all of the truth. She’s not ready to face why I bought her. She’s not ready to learn I bought her to save her.

  She wants the other half of the truth.

  She wants me to tell her I want her. I longed for her. I couldn’t resist her.

  So that’s how I answer, “Because I wanted you. I’ve never wanted anything more. Not another woman. Not money. Not a fancy car. Not an expensive yacht. Not a luxury trip. I’ve never felt so much want, so much need in my entire life as I did watching you on that stage.

  “Even if I didn’t have the money to buy you, you were mine from that night. Nothing would have stopped me from claiming you. Not another rich asshole. Not Oscar. Not Julian. Not a calvary of a hundred men. You were mine. And I was yours from the moment I saw you.”

  It’s the first time I’ve mentioned ever belonging to her as much as she belongs to me. It was a slip of the tongue, but completely true. I’ve been hers for a lot longer than she’s been mine.

  A tear drips, slowly at first, then speeds down her cheek as more moisture pushes it faster, and gravity pulls harder.

  I reach out and wipe the tear from her eye. It’s such a normal act—something any couple would do for the other. But we aren’t a couple. She just admitted we will never be.

  I was too late.

  I don’t know if she meant Julian succeeded in raping her before I got there, or if she just meant too much has happened for us to move forward. Maybe she meant she could never forgive me for letting Julian lay a single finger on her. For buying her in the first place. For letting her think I would sell her.

  I’ve sinned too many times for any truth I speak to heal us. Our wounds are too deep. Permanent scars have already formed.

  “Your turn,” she says with a deep breath.

  I pull my hand away from her cheek. And I feel loss. So much loss.

  She grips the bedsheets, pulling them tightly to her chest as she waits for my question. I don’t know if I want to pull a truth or a sin from her. I want answers, especially after what happened with Julian, but I don’t know if I have the strength to hear her past with him. She also, more than anyone, deserves to commit a sin against me.

  So I ask the question. The only question I need answered truthfully.

  The question that holds my end.

  I don’t understand how I know, even now, but her truth will change everything.

  “How did Julian hurt you before?”

  Her eyes drift up to mine, and she bites her lip. I can tell more than ever that she wants to tell me the truth. She wants to pour her soul to me.

  And yet there is something stopping her. Something preventing her from screaming the truth.

  “Truth or sin?” I ask. What’s it going to be?

  “Sin,” she answers.

  I suck in a breath, preparing myself for her sin.

  She’s weak—she shouldn’t get out of bed. She might choose to postpone her sin. Or she is going to have to choose something simple she can do from bed.

  She pats the side of the bed next to her. Apparently, she’s already decided on her sin. She knew before she answered what it was going to be.

  I f
eel a lump in my throat. My heart is racing. My muscles are aching, trying to figure out what she is going to do.

  I’m so close to her. I want to kiss her, taste her. I want to worship her body until she begins to forgive me. Until she no longer thinks it’s too late to give us a chance.

  “What do you want? What’s your sin?” I ask, unable to wait, unable to contain myself any longer.

  Siren moves hesitantly toward me. Her body inches closer and closer. I prepare myself for a coming slap, punch, or hit. I won’t stop her. I deserve any pain she wants to inflict my way.

  I try to keep my eyes open. But my reflexes will stop her if I see it coming, so I sit on my hands and close my eyes and wait.

  I breathe slowly in and out, waiting for the pain to hit me. I’m begging it to. Maybe I’ll feel better if I’m hurting even a fraction of the amount she is?

  But what I feel is the opposite of pain.

  Her lips brush over mine, ever so slowly, sparking something deep inside, bringing me back to life.

  My eyes fly open at her touch. Our eyes lock as her lips hover over mine. I don’t move. This is her sin, not mine. But it takes all of my self-control not to devour her.

  And then, everything changes. She grabs my neck, pulling my head to her in a forceful kiss I’ve been dying for since the moment I saw her in the water swimming toward me.

  My hands fly up, gripping her head and deepening the kiss. My hungry tongue pushes into her mouth, tasting every drop of her. So sweet, sassy, and delicious.

  She moans against my lips, kissing me again and again. With promises of what could be.

  These kisses are nothing like I’ve ever felt before. These kisses are life itself. I hold her firmer, and she tugs hard on my hair, letting it fall down the way she likes.

  I could be the man for her. Her beast in the bedroom, her protector during the day. I could give up everything else for her—my job, my friends, my home. I feel it the second our lips touch.

  She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and nothing I knew existed.

  When she nibbles on my bottom lip, I’m done. I’m hers.

  Completely.

  Wholly.

  Entirely.

  Hers.

  And she knows it. She smiles back against my lips.

  But then she grips my hands, and gently pushes them away from her face, so she can pull back.

  I feel empty without her touching me.

  “It’s too late,” she says sharply.

  It’s then I realize her sin. Siren kissed me, showing me everything I could have. Everything missing from my life. Everything I could have had if I were a better man. Then she took it all away with three little words.

  Fuck—this is my life now. I’ll forever feel empty without her. There is no going back to a life without her.

  I can’t have her.

  I was too late.

  25

  Siren

  Why did I kiss him?

  That kiss was painful.

  Well, not the kiss part. The kiss part was great. It was magical, passionate, and everything I’ve been missing.

  Cheesy, but it’s true.

  And now…now, I’m ruined. That kiss ruined me worse than anything Julian could ever do.

  We don’t speak after my sinful words. We both just collapse into the bed, so close but not touching, as is our life together. Close, but never together.

  Not as friends.

  Not as lovers.

  And soon, not even as enemies.

  I don’t think I can sleep, but soon the darkness pulls at me. I’m still physically exhausted, so even though I’m anxious, sleep still wins.

  I hear a vibrating sound on the dresser.

  Zeke jumps out of bed and grabs his phone.

  “Yes?” he answers grumpily.

  He listens for a minute while looking at me to see if I’m awake. He must spot the white of my eyes staring back at him because he doesn’t stop looking at me.

  “Tonight?” he asks.

  Fuck, no. He can’t go anywhere near Julian. It was just last night that he had to save me from him—that they fought.

  But then I notice the rest of the room for the first time. The IV pole, the bags, the medications, the gauze. That’s a lot of IV bags if I was just out of it for a day. I’ve been unconscious for days, possibly weeks.

  Which means it’s time for Zeke to transport the women. To sell them to the highest bidder. To confirm he is just as bad as Julian.

  For a long time, I thought Zeke might be different. The way he treated me these last few days. Nursed me back to health. He’s never laid a hand on me, and it makes me believe he is a good guy. Or at least not a bad guy.

  But if he sells those women, he’s just as evil as Julian. Just as wicked as every other man in my life.

  Zeke hangs up the phone, and my attention goes back to him as he walks toward the bed, with indecision in his eyes.

  “Don’t,” I say.

  He pauses and looks at me with sadness.

  “Don’t go. Stay.”

  His eyes get big as he looks at me. He doesn’t nod. He doesn’t answer me with words.

  And for a moment I think he is going to go—that he’s going to leave me.

  Instead, he pulls the sheets back and climbs into bed. And then he puts his arm over my body. It’s not sexual; he doesn’t even pull me to his chest. He just rests his arm over my body with a promise to protect me always.

  I wait until he falls asleep for me to close my eyes. And I’m asleep within seconds of my eyelids falling.

  But when I wake up, I already know the truth. Zeke is a bad guy. He’s a monster. He’s gone.

  If it wasn’t too late before, it is now. I will put up with a lot of things, but not this. Never this.

  26

  Zeke

  This ends tonight.

  The three words play over and over in my head as I slip out of bed in the middle of the night. As I walk quieter than a ghost through my house and out to my truck.

  I consider walking the quarter of a mile to Julian’s house but think better of it. I might need the truck. And I want to save all my energy for Julian.

  Tonight, Julian dies for his sins.

  He dies for tying Siren up.

  He dies for touching her.

  For hitting her.

  For almost raping her.

  He dies.

  The second he chose to touch her; he sealed his fate. Death is all his future can hold. I can’t let him breathe another second for what he did to Siren.

  Julian ruined the best thing in my life. In one night, he took every chance at happiness away.

  Maybe Siren and I still wouldn’t have ended up together. But I had hope. Hope for her. For me. And for us.

  I could have asked her out on a real date. Brought her flowers every day for a year to apologize for buying her instead of telling her the truth from the start—that I bought her to keep her safe.

  Siren could have forgiven me for keeping her in the dark and pretending to be a monster. But she can’t forgive me for failing her. She can’t forgive me for hurting her.

  I was so close to being able to tell her everything. I got rid of the bugs in the house. And I had a plan for how to pay off my debt to Julian without becoming a human trafficker myself. I could have told her the truth. Every move I’ve made has been to protect her.

  Now, that’s all gone—because of Julian.

  I don’t have a shot in hell. Siren deserves better. A man worthy of her. A man with honor and goodness in his heart.

  I will never be that man.

  Unless killing the bastard who touched her is honorable.

  I don’t know anymore. I just know it has to be done.

  It won’t give me any more points in Siren’s book. She won’t look at me with want in her eyes. She might even hate me for killing yet another man. She may think no one deserves to be slaughtered, even a demon like Julian.

  But it has to be done. Julian has to di
e.

  I didn’t realize tonight was going to be when he dies until Oscar called, saying the shipment is ready for me. It’s been almost two weeks since Julian laid a hand on Siren. She’s been sleeping and recovering while I played doctor, hooking up IVs and medications to keep her alive.

  Tonight became the night the second Oscar called. My time is up. I either kill Julian and every man who works for or with him, or I traffic women.

  My choice is easy.

  Even if I’ll spend the rest of my life running, hunting down lead after lead, connection after connection of men who work for Julian. Men who, after today, will become my enemy.

  I may never return to my previous life. I may never work for Enzo Black again. I may never get to joke with my best friend, Langston. Or see if Kai finally tamed Enzo.

  I will live my life alone. My only purpose will be killing and ensuring Siren’s safety. I’ll have to watch Siren from afar. Watch her get a new job, move into a new place. Date other men. Marry a man. Have kids with another man.

  It will be torture, but a worthy life. Because if I have to spend the rest of my life protecting Siren, then my life is worth something. I’ll have spent my time on this earth doing something honorable instead of wasting it away, committing the worst crimes.

  I pull up in front of Julian’s house in my truck. It’s the middle of the night, but Julian surely already knows I’m here. He doesn’t have the security features my former boss did, but he’s paranoid enough to have a solid security system.

  He knows I’m here.

  I prefer it that way. I don’t want to sneak into his bedroom while he’s sleeping and shoot him dead. I’m not that kind of guy.

  I want a battle.

  I want to know the best man won when I kill him.

  I want him to look into the whites of my eyes as he bleeds out in front of me.

  When I step out of my truck, I slam the door extra hard, ensuring my presence is known, if it wasn’t already.

  Then I pull out my gun, load it, and cock it. I hold it to my side as I walk calmly to the front door.

  I don’t ring the doorbell.

  Instead, I kick down the double-bolted door with my massive foot and step inside.

 

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