Page 55 of Forbidden Sins

"I think we're clear," he finally says, pulling back onto the highway. "But we need to be more careful. No more stops in populated areas unless absolutely necessary."

I nod, staring out the window. The brief feeling of freedom I had earlier is gone, replaced by the cold reality of our situation. We're fugitives, running from men who will never stop hunting us.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly.

Sebastian glances at me, frowning. "For what?"

"For putting you in this position. You were safe before. My father trusted you. You had a good life."

Sebastian looks over at me sharply. “I wasn’t safe from the moment that I found out that he was going to all but sell you to the highest bidder.

I swore to protect you, Estella. Your father’s choices got us here, not you.

Even if I hadn’t fallen in love with you, I couldn’t in good conscience have stood by and watched him give you to a man like Vito.

A man who would hurt you. Once I knew that I loved you—” He shakes his head.

“This isn’t your fault, Estella. And I don’t want you to keep believing that it is?—”

He breaks off suddenly, looking in the rearview. “ Shit ,” he swears, and my heart leaps with fear as I twist around in my seat, looking behind us.

I see a black SUV gaining on us, moving too fast and too deliberately to be a coincidence.

"Is that—" I start to ask.

"Yes," Sebastian says grimly, pressing down on the accelerator. "Hold on."

The car lurches forward, and I grip the door handle as Sebastian weaves through traffic, trying to put distance between us and our pursuers. But the SUV stays with us, closing the gap with alarming speed.

"They must have been waiting for us to get back on the highway," Sebastian mutters, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Damn it. I should have stayed on the back roads, even if it would have taken longer."

"What do we do?" My voice sounds small, even to my own ears.

Sebastian's eyes dart to the rearview mirror again. "We can't outrun them in this car. We need to find somewhere to get off the road."

He takes a sudden exit, tires squealing as we veer down the ramp.

The SUV follows, and now I can see another one joining the chase from a side road.

My heart pounds behind my ribs, my lungs tightening until I feel like I can’t breathe.

It suddenly feels as if there’s no escape. As if there never really was.

Sebastian navigates through a maze of suburban streets, but our pursuers stay with us. I can see the tension in his jaw, the calculation in his eyes as he searches for an escape route.

"There's a motel up ahead," he says. "We're going to have to make a stand."

My heart beats harder, painful in my chest. "A stand? Sebastian, there are too many?—"

"We don't have a choice," he cuts me off, his voice hard but not unkind. "They’re going to run us off the road. Surround us and start shooting. I need to pick a spot to take some of them down. With some of the men dead, we can buy ourselves some time while they regroup."

Dead . The word makes my chest cramp. I knew there would be consequences, but it sounds so final. So terrible. The thought that men will die because of my choices makes me feel sick.

But I can’t go back. Not to Vito.

Sebastian pulls into the parking lot of a rundown motel, the tires squealing as he veers in, driving around to the back where our car won't be visible from the road. He kills the engine and turns to me.

"Listen carefully," he says, reaching to pull out the revolver tucked between the seats. "I need you to hide. Take this and find somewhere safe."

I stare at the gun he's pressing into my hands. It's cold and heavy, and terrifyingly real. The reality of the situation is making it hard for me to think clearly.

"I can't?—"

"You can," he insists. "You're stronger than you think, Estella. I've seen it. But I need you safe."

"What about you?" I ask, my voice breaking.

His expression softens for just a moment, and he brushes his thumb across my cheek. "I'll be fine. I've dealt with worse."

But I can see the lie in his eyes. There are too many of them, and only one of him.

Before I can protest further, we hear the crunch of tires on gravel. They've found us.

"Go," Sebastian urges, pulling his own gun from his waistband. He grabs the duffel, swinging it over his shoulder so that the strap goes across his chest and the bag is behind him. "Now."

I slip out of the car, crouching low as I make my way around one side of the motel, crouching around the corner. My hands are shaking so badly that I can barely hold the gun. Through a crack in the shed door, I watch as Sebastian positions himself behind our car, weapon ready.

The first SUV pulls into view, followed by the second. Men pour out—six, seven, eight of them. Too many. And at the center of them all, stepping out of the second vehicle with casual arrogance, is Vito Bianchi.

My blood turns to ice at the sight of him. He's smiling, like this is all some amusing game.

"Sinclair!" he calls out. "Let's not make this any harder than it needs to be. Hand over Estella, and I’ll tell my men to kill you quickly."

Sebastian doesn't respond, but I can see his grip tighten on his weapon.

"No?" Vito continues. "That's disappointing. Your father is furious with you, by the way," he adds, clearly speaking to me now, though he can't see me. "He's promised punishment when you get home. But he’s also promised that as long as I bring you back, our arrangement stands. You’ll be my wife within days, once we’re home. I won’t tolerate any further delays, after this little stunt of yours, Estella.”

The thought makes me physically ill. I watch as Vito signals to his men, who begin to spread out, surrounding Sebastian.

"Last chance," Vito calls out. “I hope you keep pushing me, I really do. This time, I’ll be the one to carve pieces off of you, Sinclair. And I won’t leave your cock attached to your body this time, I promise you that. Especially if I find out that you’ve touched my fiancée.”

I watch, shaking, as Sebastian aims his gun. His response is a single shot that takes down the man nearest to Vito. And then everything explodes into chaos.

Gunfire erupts from all directions. Sebastian moves with deadly precision, taking down two more men before they force him to retreat behind a dumpster. But they're closing in, and I can see he's running out of options.

I can imagine my father on my return, his face grim, victory in his eyes.

I can imagine my wedding day to Vito, if he really does insist he wants me still, even though I’m no longer a virgin.

Maybe he will, just so he can torment me further.

So he has reason to treat me as cruelly as he could possibly wish.

Sebastian’s words echo in my head. You’re stronger than you think.

Before I can think twice, I burst from behind the corner of the motel, gun raised. I fire at the man closest to Sebastian, catching him in the shoulder. He goes down with a shout of pain, and suddenly all eyes are on me. I stumble back from the recoil, the sound of the shot ringing in my ears.

"Estella, no!" Sebastian yells, but it's too late.

I fire again, and again, forcing Vito's men to scatter for cover. I don't know if I'm hitting anyone, but I'm creating enough chaos for Sebastian to reposition. He takes advantage immediately, taking down another man with precise shots.

Vito is shouting orders, his face contorted with rage. A bullet whizzes past my ear, so close I feel the whoosh of it passing by. I dive behind a parked car, my heart threatening to burst from my chest.

Sebastian appears beside me a moment later, his face a mask of fury and fear.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hisses.

"Helping you," I gasp. "There are too many of them."

He looks like he wants to argue, but another volley of gunfire cuts him off. He peers around the car, then ducks back down.

"Stay low," he instructs. "When I move, you cover me. Understand?"

I nod, though I'm terrified. Sebastian squeezes my hand once, then rolls out from behind the car, firing as he moves to a new position. I lean out and fire blindly in the direction of Vito's men, praying I don't hit Sebastian.

Everything is a blur, the shouts of the men, and the screams of pain, and the crack of gunshots making my head swim as my ears ring.

I try to cover Sebastian, although I have no idea what I’m doing.

My gun clicks after the sixth shot, empty, and I keep pulling the trigger anyway, adrenaline coursing through me as I move without thinking.

I don't see the man who comes up behind me until it's almost too late.

I turn just as he raises his gun, and swing my revolver out of pure fear, striking him across the face hard enough to send him to the side, his shot going wide as he fires.

I hear another shot and see him crumple, blood pouring from his chest.

"Estella!" Sebastian's voice snaps me back to the present. He's pinned down behind a stack of wooden pallets, blood seeping through his shirt at the shoulder.

Fear crashes through me. He’s hurt . Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, but I run toward him, ducking as another bullet flies past me. I hear Vito screaming at his men to stop shooting, promising all kinds of pain if anyone accidentally harms me.

"We need to go," Sebastian gasps as I reach his face, pale with pain. "Now."

I nod, noticing for the first time a burning sensation in my side. Looking down, I see a tear in my shirt, blood staining the fabric. I've been hit too, though the adrenaline had masked the pain until now.

Sebastian’s face goes even whiter, pinched with fury as he sees it. He glances back toward the parking lot, and I know he wants to murder every single one of the men out there for so much as scratching me. But we need to get away.

“Can you run?” Sebastian bites out, and I nod.

“Yes.” I don’t know for sure, but I know there’s no choice. We have to go.

Together we make a break for the back of the motel, where a chain-link fence separates the property from a dense patch of woods. Gunfire follows us, bullets splintering the wood of the fence posts as we scramble over.

We run through the trees, the sounds of pursuit growing fainter behind us. I hear the growl of engines in the distance. My side is on fire now, each step sending a fresh wave of pain through my body. Sebastian isn't doing much better, his breathing labored, his grip on my hand weakening.

“We need a car,” Sebastian bites out. “Hurry.”

We veer down a road, keeping close to the trees until we see a gas station.

Sebastian runs for the first empty car he sees next to a pump, a black pickup truck that looks fairly new.

He motions for me to get in, and I run for the passenger’s side, the guilt that I feel over stealing someone’s car completely muted by my fear.

Sebastian yanks out the wires from beneath the steering column, hotwiring the car in a matter of seconds.

I hear someone shout as he floors it, pulling away from the gas station, but he doesn’t so much as falter.

He speeds away, pulling onto back roads as we try to put as much distance as we can between us and Vito’s men.

I have no idea how long we drive for. Hours until the afternoon has turned to nighttime, and Sebastian finds another out-of-the-way motel, many back roads and exits away from where we fled.

“We’ll get another car in the morning,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse as we stumble out of the truck.

He grabs the hoodie I took from the apartment, throwing it over his shirt to hide the blood so that he can get us a room without anyone asking questions.

The clerk isn’t paying much attention to either of us, and Sebastian gets a key for room twenty-four on the upper level.

The stairs feel almost impossible, and by the time we stumble into the new room, we’re both barely standing.

He turns to me, his face a mask of fear and regret, and I shake my head quickly as I lock the door behind us.

“I don’t regret it,” I whisper softly, the room swimming around me as I sink down on the edge of the bed. “Not even a little bit.”