Page 87 of Sins of the Hidden

I don't think V would do well in school. I shivered at the one time he appeared in my class and almost killed my seatmate and my professor. It's why I do online classes now.

"School just teaches you to be obedient. You don't get the skills unless you go out and do the work." Knight shrugged.

Knight's eyes flicked toward Victoria for the third time. Each time she shifted even slightly closer to our group, his jaw tightened. He'd angle his body, creating a barrier without making it obvious to anyone who wasn't paying attention.

"Are you two together then?" Joslyn asked with heart eyes.

People were going to ask eventually—I knew that. I just didn’t expect itnow, not while my brain was still stuck back on his mouth, his hands, hiseverything. What were we? Boyfriend and girlfriend?

God, no. That didn’t fit. That soundednormal. We weren’t normal. We weren’t...

Oh my god.

Maybe we are boyfriend and girlfriend.

I needed to sit down.

Finally being able to move, I looked up to V, his eyes locked onto everyone in the room, and not me for once.

"Yes." His voice rumbled the word as he stood tall. V hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend, but here he was telling everyone I was.

"For how long?" Tyrant now piped up.

"Eight months." V had told me how I had made his heart beat for the first time all those months ago, but I didn’t realize he thought we were together then.

"There's no way," Mitchell shook his head. "That was when I brought them in for questioning."

"I know."

Tyrant chuckled once more. "Only V would say he was with someone who didn't even know they were together."

Knight snorted. “Hope she’s in it for life. Because I don’t think he understands the word breakup.”

The words hung in the air, landing like weights on my shoulders. Everyone's eyes remained fixed on us—on me—their stares burning into my skin like brands. Each second of scrutiny stretched into eternity as my chest tightened, the air becoming thinner with each shallow breath.

Victoria's voice blurred into the rushing in my ears. Mitchell laughed, the sound echoing strangely in the room. Someone asked another question about us, our relationship, and things too private to share.

Too many voices. Too many eyes. Too many questions about things that were still raw and new between us.

I tried to focus on a fixed point across the room, but my vision blurred at the edges. The familiar whisper of anxiety—my constant companion for so many years—grew louder, drowning out everything else. My mouth went dry as I swallowed repeatedly, trying to push down the rising panic.

First came the tingling in my fingertips, then the slight tremor in my hands that I desperately tried to hide by clutching the hem of my shirt. My heartbeat accelerated, pounding againstmy ribs like it was trying to escape. The room began to close in, the walls shrinking with each passing second as my lungs struggled to draw in enough air.

My vision narrowed to pinpricks, darkness bleeding in from the edges. The trembling spread from my fingers up my arms until my entire body was quivering like a leaf in a storm. Instinctively, I pressed closer to V's side, my fingers digging into the leather of his cut.

V noticed immediately—he always did. His body went rigid, jaw clenching so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. Without a word, he wrapped his arm around my waist, tucking me firmly against him as if trying to absorb me into his very skin.

"We're leaving." V’s voice cut through the room. Curling me underneath his strong arm before turning us toward the front doors.

Victoria took a step forward, hands raised placatingly. "Oakley, we didn't mean?—"

"Get out of our fucking way." V snarled, his tone brooking no argument.

The look he gave them could have frozen hell itself. Nobody dared speak as he marched me toward the exit, his body a shield between me and their prying eyes. Even Tyrant, usually quick with a retort, remained silent as V guided me through the door and into the night air.

The cool breeze against my feverish skin felt like salvation. V didn't slow his pace until we reached his bike, his grip on me never loosening. Only then did he turn to face me, those black eyes searching mine with an intensity that still stole my breath.

"Breathe," he commanded, one scarred hand coming up to cup my cheek.

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