Page 118
Story: Sinfully Yours
He exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Alright," he mutters. "Let's see if you mean that."
The tension between us doesn't ease, but it settles. For now.
Ava steps forward, moving between me and her brothers, shaking off the last remnants of fear like she's shedding a second skin. "Can we please not do the whole testosterone-fueled posturing thing right now?" She gestures toward Andrew, who still hasn't moved. "We have bigger things to worry about."
Right on cue, the distant wail of sirens cuts through the night.
Ryan lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair before muttering, "This night is bullshit."
I smirk. "Welcome to my life."
The red and blue lights wash over the steel beams as the police cars pull into the lot, tires crunching against the gravel. Officers step out, their radios crackling, their hands resting near their holsters.
Ava exhales in relief. "Finally."
Dean gives me one last look before shaking his head and stepping back. Ryan grumbles something under his breath that I don't bother deciphering. Nate—who I suspect has already decided this conversation isn't over—just sighs.
And then, as we turn away from the flashing lights, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
A new message.
I already know it's Vanessa before I even look.
You may have won tonight, but this isn't over. See you at the finale.
26
AVA
Even if it's for a little while, the chaos has abated.
The sirens fade into the distance, taking Andrew with them. The floodlights buzz overhead, casting long shadows across the steel beams, the unfinished high-rise standing like a skeletal guardian against the night sky. The space between us still hums with tension, thick with adrenaline and words left unsaid.
I can feel my brothers watching me.
Dean is the first to speak. "You good?"
His voice is steady, even, but I know him too well. He's measuring, assessing, trying to gauge just how much damage has been done—not just physically, but emotionally.
I inhale deeply, trying to untangle the whirlwind inside me. "Yeah," I say, forcing a small smile. "Nothing a hot shower and ten hours of sleep won't fix."
Ryan lets out a short, incredulous laugh. "Ten hours? Try a month."
Nate tilts his head slightly. "I know you're joking," he murmurs, "but you're not wrong."
Dean's gaze narrows. "That's the problem," he says. "She shouldn't have to brush this off like it's normal."
I bristle. "I'm standing right here, you know."
His eyes flick to mine. "Yeah, and you almost got yourself killed tonight, Ava."
That irritation flares hotter. "I also handled myself just fine."
Ryan scoffs. "Oh, right. That part where you got held at crowbar-point? Stellar performance, really."
My patience snaps. "Do not do that. Do not make me the helpless victim in all this." My voice quavers, but I power through. "I made choices. I decided to fight back. And you know what? I'd do it again."
Dean sighs tiredly. "Christ, Ava."
The tension between us doesn't ease, but it settles. For now.
Ava steps forward, moving between me and her brothers, shaking off the last remnants of fear like she's shedding a second skin. "Can we please not do the whole testosterone-fueled posturing thing right now?" She gestures toward Andrew, who still hasn't moved. "We have bigger things to worry about."
Right on cue, the distant wail of sirens cuts through the night.
Ryan lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair before muttering, "This night is bullshit."
I smirk. "Welcome to my life."
The red and blue lights wash over the steel beams as the police cars pull into the lot, tires crunching against the gravel. Officers step out, their radios crackling, their hands resting near their holsters.
Ava exhales in relief. "Finally."
Dean gives me one last look before shaking his head and stepping back. Ryan grumbles something under his breath that I don't bother deciphering. Nate—who I suspect has already decided this conversation isn't over—just sighs.
And then, as we turn away from the flashing lights, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
A new message.
I already know it's Vanessa before I even look.
You may have won tonight, but this isn't over. See you at the finale.
26
AVA
Even if it's for a little while, the chaos has abated.
The sirens fade into the distance, taking Andrew with them. The floodlights buzz overhead, casting long shadows across the steel beams, the unfinished high-rise standing like a skeletal guardian against the night sky. The space between us still hums with tension, thick with adrenaline and words left unsaid.
I can feel my brothers watching me.
Dean is the first to speak. "You good?"
His voice is steady, even, but I know him too well. He's measuring, assessing, trying to gauge just how much damage has been done—not just physically, but emotionally.
I inhale deeply, trying to untangle the whirlwind inside me. "Yeah," I say, forcing a small smile. "Nothing a hot shower and ten hours of sleep won't fix."
Ryan lets out a short, incredulous laugh. "Ten hours? Try a month."
Nate tilts his head slightly. "I know you're joking," he murmurs, "but you're not wrong."
Dean's gaze narrows. "That's the problem," he says. "She shouldn't have to brush this off like it's normal."
I bristle. "I'm standing right here, you know."
His eyes flick to mine. "Yeah, and you almost got yourself killed tonight, Ava."
That irritation flares hotter. "I also handled myself just fine."
Ryan scoffs. "Oh, right. That part where you got held at crowbar-point? Stellar performance, really."
My patience snaps. "Do not do that. Do not make me the helpless victim in all this." My voice quavers, but I power through. "I made choices. I decided to fight back. And you know what? I'd do it again."
Dean sighs tiredly. "Christ, Ava."
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