Page 4 of In the Light of Sin

I might be dead if it wasn’t for his watchful eyes.

“Thanks.” I reached into my shirt, feeling the wire between my breasts, signing in relief that it was still in place. His face was pointed at the area, making me thankful that the only light around was the porch light. It wasn’t bright enough to expose the way my face heated under his stare.

I pulled it out, tired of the deceit I was knowingly helping with. “Here. I don’t know if it caught anything, but–”

“Joslyn!” Breaking our eye contact, our heads snapped to the front of the house. Sarge immediately stepped closer to me, ever my protective shadow. My eyes tracked a wild Jordyn as she blew through the front screen door, slamming it shut behind her. She barreled down the steps before stopping dead in her tracks, eyes widening at Sarge. She obviously still remembered him from Hellbound. “Oh God. You’re still associated with them?”

“If you were actually around, you would’ve known,” Sarge countered as he stepped further in front of me, nearly blocking my sister from my view. I tentatively stepped forward, gripping the back of his hoodie as I peeked around his body at my twin. Fear was very much present in her eyes as she tried and failed to stand her ground at the giant biker in front of her. I could see she was breaking.

“You killed them.” Her voice was shaky, and she took a stabilizing step back. “You killed my friends.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t join them,” his words came out clipped and precise, as always. My gut churned with unease at just how close my sister came to dying that night. “Joslyn’s the only reason you got breath in that used-up body of yours.”

“Once again, she ruins everything!” Jordyn’s frustration showed through her shout. The alcohol coursed through her, letting the truth slip through her loose lips. Trying to somewhat contain her emotions, she bent forward, resting her hands on her knees. Her breaths coming in waves, she finally whispered, “I wish you killed me.”

The lump I swallowed past threatened to choke me. Jordyn wished for death more than life. Every time the paramedics showed up with Narcan, she would cry and fight because she didn’t want to wake up again. And, like it was my duty, the rest of the night would be spent taking care of her, praying she didn’t get violent again. We shared the same eye color but not the same amount of life in them.

Mine shone bright, people comparing them to emeralds, while hers looked dull, lifeless like the moss on the side of a rock.

Because of me.

Jordyn was like this because of me.

“Trust me, there’s nothing I’d rather do than see you grey-skinned and lying on the fuckin’ ground.” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the fabric of Sarge’s clothing tighter. This whole night has been too much. I can’t even hear myself think anymore. I can’t hear this right now. I wanted to scream at him for saying unjust things to my sister, but I couldn’t. I fought with myself. Part of me wanted to defend her, but the other part still tried to come to terms with her actions earlier. I still can’t believe how she looked at me.

She watched as a stranger dragged me from the house. Who knows what he would’ve done to me.

“I’ll be waiting for that bullet, you fucking freak.” She tried to look around Sarge’s side to get a look at me, but he refused. A high-pitched laugh left her lips, reminding me of a patient in a psych ward… “Watch your fuckin’ back, deaf girl. If anyone from the Bloods sees you after tonight, I won’t be the only one with a bullet waiting for me.”

Sarge immediately charged Jordyn. She screamed, attempting to scurry back and escape him but failing when he latched his hand around her throat. His body was heaving, and anger was rolling off his large frame. “If you or any one of these other pieces of shit come near Joslyn again, I’m going to make you believe I’m the fuckin’ devil reincarnate. Get me?” She could barely touch her toe to the gravel, scratching desperately at his hand. She tried to swallow and kicked again, unable to take her eyes off the man currently holding her life in his hands. “Now get out of my fuckin’ sight before Joslyn sees her sister die.”

Sarge finally let her drop, and she gasped for air. She didn’t need to be told twice, turning on unsteady feet and running back toward the house. “Gotta go before the wannabes come out here.”

I nodded numbly, still unable to fully process the events of the last hour. Instead, I slowly followed my shadow towards his bike. His bike has become something familiar to me in the past five months. He doesn’t let me fully hold onto him, but he does make sure I’m always wearing a helmet with my fists securely gripping his hoodie. I’m hyper-aware of my body when we ride. I’m barely allowed to hold his hoodie for support, so I make damn sure my thighs stay off his as much as possible, and I never lean into his body. Even when my instincts push me to.

Once I’m securely on and my fists find their place at his back, he revs his engine and speeds off, throwing gravel on this horrible night behind us. Goosebumps pepper my body, and I have to take several more deep, calming breaths if I hope to make it home in one piece.

Even if Sarge saved me, I still felt like I was falling apart.

Chapter 2: Joslyn

Sarge turned onto an unknown dirt path, surrounded by the shade of the trees. The headlight of his motorcycle was the only thing guiding us across the rough terrain. The smell of dew on the grass seeped through the opening of the helmet Sarge always made me wear while on the back of his bike. I felt myself crack the smallest smile, sighing contentedly. I was finally allowing myself to get lost in the ride as the fireflies danced alongside us, lighting up the darkness that stretched out through the trees. My body relaxed, and my grip loosened, watching them with the bike lulling me in a way I’ve become familiar with just recently.

He must’ve felt this since he revved his engine, getting my attention and returning me to reality.

A place I didn’t want to live in. I’d rather be like these lightning bugs, free from all the pain that came with tumultuous emotions from things we didn’t deserve to happen to us but we would feel until our caskets were closed and lowered into the lonely space six feet under.

My fingers dug into his cut, fists shaking as the vibration of Sarge’s motorcycle rippled goosebumps along my skin, my mind numbing itself from the pain of what just happened at the recruitment party. That man lying dead in the gravel, the confrontation with my twin, the ungodly loud bass rattling my brain. I still feel the remnants of the ringing in the migraine I’m currently nursing. Still, it was nothing compared to what I unexpectedly endured the first time I hopped on the back of his bike.

I was trying to hold in the tears as the engine’s vibrations blasted into my hearing aids, making my eardrums feel like they were exploding. The everyday pains here and there aren’t even on the same pain scale. Mixed with the absolute fright that seeped into my bones at the fact that I was on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle for the first time. My tiny fists were white-knuckling his hoodie, hanging on the only way I was apparently allowed to. When I tried to wrap my arms around him to stabilize myself, a low, threatening growl radiated from within him and scared me into submission.

But the longer we rode, the more speed he gained. The louder the screeching in my aids became, I was sure they would be bleeding. I wasn’t sure if it was from the deafening engine mixing with the frequency of my hearing aids, the helmet crushing them into my ears further, or both. It was definitely both. Add on top of that the implosion of my little world being blown wide open, showing me all the darkness that lay hidden from not only me but the two most important people in my life.

The emotional hardship from the party at Hellbound and someone being murdered right in front of us, mixed with the physical pain from the loud engine, was entirely too much. I couldn’t take any of this anymore.

My eyes welled up, my heartbeat increasing as my body intrusively itched to jump off the bike, not caring about the consequences. I was already in pain. Scratching my skin on the pavement would be a bee sting compared to feeling this.

He revved the engine, making the pain escalate to the point that the tears I was desperately trying to keep in came cascading down. I completely let go of his cut. Raising my fist, I beat on his back with everything I had left. It had to stop. The pain I was feeling, both physically and emotionally, was worth whatever consequence this would have.

---