Goodbye is a Second Chance (Sons of Sin Book 1)

by Nola Marie

  Didn’t I just tell him my neck hurts?

  “Why are you sleeping on the sofa?” he asks again.

  I ignore the question and begin walking back toward the dressing room. I walk in to find the other three looking at me warily. I grab the accessories they’re supposed to have and begin distributing them.

  “Answer me, Josie,” he continues to push.

  I hand him a wide leather strap to wear around his wrist while still ignoring his questions. He looks at me like he’s trying to decide the exact method he’d like to use to kill me.

  “Josie,” he warns.

  “Two minutes fellas,” Liam says from the door as Angel, and I continue our standoff.

  “Why don’t you two just fuck already?” Ryder taunts. “Or fuck me because this tension is too much.”

  I snap my head in his direction with a scathing look that probably tells him I will murder him in his sleep.

  “Just a joke, Love,” he raises his hands in surrender.

  “Let’s go. We have a show to do,” Maddox tells us.

  After a few more seconds, Angel finally walks away. I move to sit on the sofa. I groan at how comfortable the, probably disease infested, piece of furniture is. Considering I won’t sleep in my own bunk because of the sheets, one would think I wouldn’t sit on it. I have witnessed it personally. I know what my guys do in these rooms once Cami and I have left. Walking in on that was definitely an experience.

  My mind wanders back to what Angel said the other night. I wonder if it’s true, but quickly rid that thought. I could see in his eyes it was true. But why did he tell me?

  Damn this sofa is comfortable. Even my bunk isn’t this soft. It’s almost worth risking the contamination to just close my eyes. Just for a minute or two before I go stand down stage with dry shirts.

  Just a minute won’t hurt.

  “Josie,” a rough calloused hand brushes over my cheek. “Wake up, Jo.”

  “Mmm. Angel,” I mumble incoherently as I wonder how he got into my bedroom.

  “Come on, Josie. You fell asleep.”

  My eyes flutter as I focus on his too beautiful face. I jolt upright as realization hits me. My head slams into his, knocking me back onto the sofa and him onto the floor.

  “Fuck, Josie,” he hisses, grabbing the nose that now has blood pouring from it. “Goddammit.”

  Dane walks over to Angel, offering him a towel.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell them, looking over each of them. They’re all shirtless. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “It’s all good, Sweetheart,” Maddox tells me with a wink. “They like us better without shirts anyway.”

  I groan and drop my head into my hands. “I think I really do quit,” I moan. “Better to quit now than get fired later.”

  “You’re not getting fired,” Dane tells me with a laugh.

  “Too bad it’s not up to you,” I tell him morosely.

  “We have more say than you think, Beautiful,” Maddox laughs.

  I look around and realize they’ve all changed except for their shirts and have the wardrobe racks ready to be loaded. Tears of exhaustion – that’s what I’m calling them – fill my eyes.

  “Oh no,” Dane says looking panicked. “Do not cry.”

  “I’m fine,” I wave him off. “Just tired. I think I’ll go to the hotel if that’s okay with all of you.”

  “I’ll get everything handled here,” Liam tells me.

  Before I get to the door, a hand grabs my elbow. I look up into those silver storm clouds that are filled with worry, throwing me off again. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks me as he searches my face intently.

  “I’ll be fine, Angel. I just need sleep.”

  “No more sofas, Josie,” he tells me.

  I’d argue but I’m just too tired so I only nod. I make my way to the car and promptly fall asleep on the short ride to the hotel.

  In my room, I take a soothing but quick shower then climb into the big soft bed. I have every intention of sleeping until the buses leave in a few hours. Eight hours is just what I need to feel human again.

  I’m pretty sure I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow, but I’m jolted awake not long after by dreams of Angel. Dreams of staring at Erica on top of him, except in my dream, he looks absolutely pained to see me standing at the foot of the bed. In my dream, I hear him yelling my name as I slam his front door behind me. Then the dream ends.

  I look at the clock to see only a couple of hours have passed. I lay back again trying to go back to sleep but all I can do is think of him. The other night with his comments he probably thought I was too drunk or too high to remember. I think of tonight with jealously written all over his face over Chase or a few nights ago when he remarked that he hadn’t touched a woman in so long. (I didn’t miss the way he never claimed a woman hadn’t touched him. He couldn’t deny that since I’d seen it with my own two eyes.) The way he held me on my birthday. The elevator. That one still has my head spinning. The way he touched my cheek to wake me.

  Why?

  Why? Why? Why?

  Does he feel guilty for high school all of a sudden? Is it pity?

  Dammit I just want to sleep.

  My eyes travel to the minibar. Something in there is bound to make me sleep.

  I make my way across the plush carpet to the small fridge and remove the small bottle of vodka that is calling to me. I open it, throwing back its contents in one long gulp. I relish the burn in my throat and the warmth in my stomach. I reach in a retrieve a second bottle when sleep still eludes me. The one brings a slight tingling but not sleep. I try one more.

  My head feels a little fuzzy but ‘why’ still flutters through my mind. So many that have continued to build over the years. So many that I have pushed far away. Ignored and avoided.

  Being around Angel everyday has made it increasingly more difficult to ignore. I can’t run down an opposite corridor or dart into the girls’ restroom. I can’t delete social media apps or plan visits around his presence.

  He is front and center every day. Every damn day. The hurt and humiliation he stood by to let happen. The awful, awful things he was part of. Things I can’t forget. Things I have worked so hard to put behind me are consuming me all over again. But what happened with Jason was the tip of the iceberg. I think back to that time, wondering how Angel could let them be so awful to me. How he could be part of everything Erica and Jason did.

  The cabin Jason has brought me too is beautiful. Unfinished wood fills the entire space from floor to ceilings. Along the back wall are beautiful windows that overlooks the lake.

  He’s taken me on his boat, and we’ve went hiking. It’s been a lot more fun than I expected. He’s been nothing but sweet.

  We’re lying on the grass on a pretty spot by the water. The sky is clear, and I swear I can see every single star.

  He moves closer to me and begins to kiss me. His hand moves up my shirt to my breast. I push it away then raise up to sit.

  “What’s the problem Josie?” he asks more than a little frustrated.

  “I – I just don’t -,” I stammer as I fidget with the hem of my shirt.

  “It’s just sex, Josie. It’s gonna happen sooner or later. Why not now?”

  “I don’t think I’m ready,” I tell him softly.

  “Don’t you trust me?” he asks.

  I feel the pangs of guilt as he looks at me. The truth is I don’t trust him. I want to though.

  Finally, I nod. An unspoken agreement. Consent.

  I let him remove my clothes but then cover myself the best I can when self-consciousness burns through me. He positions himself over me, but I stop him.

  “Don’t we need a condom?” I ask him.

  “I’ll pull out,” he tells me. “Trust me.”

  I want to take it back, but I don’t want him to be angry with me. Everything about this feels wrong. It’s not what I want to do but I’ve already agreed. I can’t back out now. So I nod again.


  Seconds later, tears fill my eyes as burning pain shoots through me. I bite my lip to keep from crying out and fight the urge to push him off.

  Another few minutes of anguish and it’s over. He does pull out. I am covered in his sticky cum which only adds to the dirty feeling I’m experiencing.

  I’m not sure what I expect of him, but it definitely isn’t for him to climb off and get dressed so quickly. Or to throw my clothes at me.

  A little while later, he decides it’s time to go home which is more than a little surprising to me. We aren’t supposed to go back until in the morning, but I only nod my acquiescence.

  Several long hours later, we’re back home. He drops me off at my house without so much as a goodbye, and I wonder if I did something wrong.

  The following Monday at school, I open my locker to have condoms fall out everywhere. My cheeks flush as I look around to the audience I have.

  When my eyes fall on Jason, he is smirking with an arm thrown over Erica. I watch as he mouths “whore” at me.

  Somehow I manage to hold back the tears until I am in my car on my way home. I can’t be there today. Tomorrow, I will have to face it, but right now I need time.

  Several hours later, I awake to the sound of my phone’s text alert. I cried myself to sleep for being so incredibly stupid. For not seeing through everything.

  I pick up my phone and the name across the screen makes my heart pound just like always. I open the text and more tears begin to fall as I scroll through picture after picture of Jason and me. My stomach squeezes then churns until I’m in the bathroom hovering the toilet.

  Angel knew. He knew the whole time. What I don’t know is how he managed to take pictures. But it doesn’t even matter because just when I thought he couldn’t break my heart anymore, he completely shatters it.

  Song:

  Please Forgive Me

  I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or lack of sleep but, for the first time, I want answers to every ‘why’. As I think about everything from all those years ago. Some things I never even told Eden about. Like the pictures from Angel. But I need to know why.

  Why did he do all of that yet continues to act completely oblivious to my hurt? Why does he act so hurt? Why does he keep asking me what he did? He should know exactly why I am so angry and hurt. He was part of all of it.

  As ridiculous as it may sound, that’s what made everything that happened to me so bad. Jason and Erica were to be expected but knowing that Angel was completely uncaring about all of it. That he partook in the horror of high school.

  I stand to my feet too quickly, the effects of the alcohol and weariness making the room spin. I’m not drunk though. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I grab something to steady myself. Delirious maybe, but not drunk.

  I make my way from my room to Angel’s door with the determination of a woman on a mission. I’m feeling the whole ‘hell hath no fury’ thing right now as I stand in front of his door and bang loudly. I’m not even sure if he’s in there, but I will sit here all night if I have to. Sleeping by his door can’t be any worse than that stupid bus sofa.

  I go to bang again when the door opens. He’s standing there with nothing, but a towel wrapped around his waist. Water drips from his ebony hair running a path down his sculpted abs and chest.

  His eyes show the same reaction to me as he takes in my thin tank and boy shorts underwear. His eyes start at my still damp hair moving slowly over my face then down, down, down until there is nowhere left to go but back up. Just. As. Slowly.

  My mouth goes dry when he draws in his bottom lip. Hormones run rampant through me. Endorphins fire off in my brain, threatening to make me forget my reason for being here.

  When his eyes come back to mine, they are full of lust and desire and want and need.

  Somehow, I remember myself. I force my altered brain out of the hazy fog of ‘oh my god he’s so fucking hot’ back into the space of I hate him, and I need answers.

  “Why?” I demand. It’s the one word I have. It’s the word that sums up everything.

  His eyes narrow as we continue to stand there, me on the outside of the door, him on the inside, and I nearly smile at the irony. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says coldly except his ‘why’ seems different than before.

  I scoff. The merry-go-round had been spinning for far too long. I’m ready for the ride to end.

  The dam breaks.

  The flood waters spill over with the threat of drowning everything in their its path.

  I push as his chest. “How could you?” I scream and push again. “Everything. You were my everything. You knew how I felt about you. I know you did. Why did you do it? Why did you want me to see that? How could you let them torment the way they did? You were supposed to protect me. You were the one I could always count on to be there for me. Did it bother you that much that I loved you? Was I that much of an inconvenience? Was I that much of an embarrassment that you couldn’t just tell me how you really felt? You had to go out of your way to humiliate me. Why? What did I do, Angel? Was loving you really that bad? I know you didn’t feel the same way, but did it really upset you so much that I did?”

  I continue my tirade. I beat on his chest. I sob incoherently and uncontrollably. I scream and shout so loudly that the entire floor can probably hear.

  And he just lets me. He lets me abuse him with my fists and my words. He lets me attack him for I’m not even sure how long. I’m tired, worn, and defeated but he continues to take it all until my body surrenders in exhaustion.

  But instead of being a crumbled mess on the floor, I’m wrapped in two strong arms. “Josie, I didn’t know any of it. I never texted you to come over like you did, and I didn’t get a text you were coming that night. I never planned for it to happen much less for you to see. I was angry and drunk. I tried to go after you, Josie, but you were gone before I even had a chance. I tried to talk to you, but you kept running from me.”

  My dream from earlier flashes through my mind. His horrified face. Calling after me.

  I try to free myself from his grip. He only tightens his arms around me. “I heard them talking,” I sob. “I saw you sitting there letting them. I came to your house and saw Erica. She told me you didn’t want me around. You let them humiliate me over and over. I got the pictures from you after Jason -,” my voice cuts out.

  “What pictures Josie? I never sent you any pictures.”

  I shake my head. I don’t know why he’s denying it. “You know what pictures,” I choke back another sob. “The ones of him and me together. Right after I left school that day because of the condoms falling out of my locker.”

  He pulls me away from his chest, but keeps his hands wrapped around my upper arms. “I swear to you, Josie, I never knew any of this. I didn’t send any texts. Maybe I was too absorbed in my anger or maybe they were really good at keeping things from me, but I swear to everything I didn’t know. The few times I caught them; I didn’t just sit there. Dad had to put out a shit load of money to keep me in school and to keep parents from pressing charges more than once. Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

  “Why would I, Angel? Especially after I got those pictures. You were a part of the entire charade. You knew what he was doing. How he – he pressured me and made me feel guilty so I would have sex with him. Then made me feel like trash afterward.”

  “Josie,” he says tightly. I can tell his teeth are clenched as he grips me tighter against his chest. “I didn’t send those messages. I didn’t even know that happened. I would never do those things. Not to anybody, but especially not to you. I know you think you had proof but how could you believe I’d do any of that?”

  I pull back from him to stare at him through watery eyes. For the first time, I’m looking. I’m really looking, and sincerity and truth are all I see. “Because it was always inevitable to me. You were Mr. Badass, and I was the joke. All the girls wanted you and the guys want to be you. It was just a matter of time before you ditched the deadwei
ght around your neck.”

  “Goddammit, Josie. You weren’t deadweight. You never held me back. You were my everything too. I loved you. I still fucking love you.”

  Is there a such thing as time standing still? Is it possible for the world to stop spinning?

  I know for certain that I have stopped breathing. I feel like I’m in a dream, or an alternate reality. Of all the things I expected to hear, that wasn’t it.

  I don’t get more than a millisecond to consider it before his lips smash into mine with a ferocity I didn’t know was possible, catching me completely off guard. When my brain finally catches up, I throw my arms around his neck to bring him closer.

  This is not a sweet kiss. This is years’ worth of anger, hurt, want, and need. Years’ worth of aching longing and desire. Desire I feel pressing through his towel, digging into my belly. Teeth gnash, tongues tangle, and I wonder how the room hasn’t gone up in flames.

  He lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. Not until he lays me on the bed and hovers over me. “You’ve always been so goddamn beautiful, Josie, even if you didn’t see it, but damn if time hasn’t been good to you,” his voice comes out rough and low.

  But there is only one thing, out of everything that has been said, that my mind has latched on to. “You loved me,” I breathe what feels like my first breath in days as I search those pale, stormy eyes.

  He leans down pressing his forehead to mine. “No, Josie. I said I love you. I have loved you since the day you were born.”

  I shake my head, my mind still fighting to reject what is so very different from what I’ve always believed. “That’s not possible. You were a baby when I was born,” I try to rationalize.

  “Don’t you know, Beautiful?” His gray eyes pierce right through me, like he’s trying to etch the words into my soul. I shake my head because I don’t understand the question, much less the answer. “You are the only woman I have ever loved. For twenty-eight years, no one else could have my heart no matter how hard they tried to take it, or I tried to give it. It was never mine to give. It has always belonged to you. You were born for me because I was born to love you.”