Page 13 of Second Sin

A flush low in my belly. A pulse I couldn’t ignore.

It crossed every line I swore I wouldn’t.

I hate how easy it was to forget myself in that moment. How it felt less like choice and more like gravity.

I’ve been around men like him my entire professional life—soldiers, firefighters, first responders. Men who carry the weight of the world in their bones. Good-looking men. Wounded men. But I’ve never felt my body react like that. Never let my judgment blur this way.

It’s not just attraction. It’sdangerous. A line I’m not supposed to cross, not even in thought. Because if I give in—even a little—it’s not just my job at risk. It's my integrity.

My ability to help him at all.

But God help me,I’ve woken more than once, his touch still lingering in my dreams. My body aching, breathless.

I shove the thought down hard. Seal it off. Lock the door.

Because that path doesn’t lead anywhere good.

I walk faster.

Cold air stings my face, biting into my skin as I cut across the dim side street toward my apartment. My keys are in my pocket. My breath clouds in the dark. Almost home.

I don’t see the two men until it’s too late.

They step out from behind the building like shadows peeling from brick.

“Purse,” one of them says.

I stop cold. Every nerve goes electric.

My chest locks. My legs won’t move. I hold out the bag with shaking hands, fingers stiff with adrenaline. I try to speak, but no words come. Just the rasp of air dragging through my throat.

He yanks it from me, and for a heartbeat, I think that’s it. That they’ll leave.

Then the second one points at my hand.

“Ring too.”

My pulse spikes so hard I nearly black out.

“No,” I whisper, curling my fingers into a fist, clutching it like a lifeline. Not this. Take everything else—my money, my phone—but not this.

“I said, give it,” he growls, stepping into my space.

I flinch backwards, but I don’t move fast enough, his arm swings.

The back of his hand connects with my cheekbone, sharp and sudden and blinding. The world tilts sideways. My knees buckle. I hit the pavement hard, cheek slamming against the cold concrete.

Pain blooms, hot and dizzying.

Blood fills my mouth.

I can’t see clearly—just boots, asphalt, stars spinning above me.

And then I feel it.

His fingers prying at mine.

Tearing away the one thing I swore I’d never lose.

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