Page 16 of Sin

She opens the door to a soft lilac covered room. The bedding is white along with the drapes. There is a bookcase full of books and picture frames. The desk in the corner has a beautiful purple antique desk lamp. My eyes scan the room until they land on the name above the bed.

Sienna

I know whose room it is as soon as I stepped foot within the four walls. The soft colors and feminine feel would have told me that this is her room. But seeing her name beautifully scrolled along the wall makes it more real. I've seen that script before and it’s then I realize that it’s Sienna’s name scrolled along Sin’s bicep.

“No, Bianca. I can’t stay in here.” She’s standing just inside the room grasping at a beaded necklace.

“You must.”

“Bianca, please. I can’t sleep in your daughter’s room.”

“Savannah, there needs to be life within these walls. There is nothing but death, and I am tired of all the death. I need–” Her words are interrupted by the banging of the front door.

“Mama!” I hear Cut scream from the living room. “Mama!” He screams again.

Bianca and I both run to see what all the fuss is about. Cut and Hawk are carrying Sin into the living room. His head bobs up and down, he’s unconscious. “He got into it with Lick. He wouldn’t stop. We tried to pull him off, but he wouldn’t stop. He just kept hitting. Lick punched him in the side. It was the only way.” Cut explains the situation to his mother as he lays Sin on the couch.

Cut steps back from the couch as Bianca kneels before Sin. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, his long bangs plastered to his forehead by moisture. “Why would Tylan do this?”

“He wouldn’t stop, Momma B.” Hawk says.

“Why?” She asks again. Both men look at me, without answering.

“Me?” I question.

“Yes you!” Cut snaps. “You’ve been here no time at all and you’re already causing a rift within this club. My brother is loyal to a fault and for some reason; he thinks he needs to be your saving grace. His loyalty is misplaced and because of that he’s put himself on the razor’s edge.”

“Tylan had no right to hit Matthew like this. No right.” Bianca brushes his hair from his forehead then smooths his beard. She pulls his t-shirt up, revealing his toned, inked stomach. She runs her fingers along his right side where I see a pink scar running the length of his torso. It measured close to ten inches long. The skin around the scar has already started to turn shades of red and purple.

“What happened to him?” I ask, running my hand over the puckered skin. The feel of his warm skin under my touch makes me calm. Like I’m touching my safe haven, my home. The intensity of my feelings causes me to draw my hand back. When I bring my eyes from Sin, I see everyone staring at me. Cut’s face is disapproving while Hawk and Bianca are both smiling.

“Shrapnel.”

“Hawk.” Cut barks.

“What? You don’t think she’s not gonna find out? You don’t think he’s gonna tell her?”

“My baby boy was almost lost to me.” Bianca interrupts as she continues to run her hand over the scar in a soothing motion. “Blown up. In the desert, he was almost lost to me.”

“Sin served in the Marines, straight out of high school.” Hawk explains. “He wanted out of this life. The MC. He grew to hate it.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hawk.”

“He wanted to do more” Hawk ignores Cut’s demand. “Be more. He thought he could do it by serving his country. He tried, but look where that got him. Blown up, with a missing kidney.”

“Fuck me.” Sin groans as he comes to.

“Mijo, are you alright?” Bianca asks as she brushes Sin’s hair from his face again.

“Yeah, Mama.” He stares straight at me when he answers her. “I’m good.”

Cut and Hawk left to head back to the clubhouse once Sin was sitting upright. Bianca was insistent on making her son his favorite meal, so she left for the store. Sin wanted to clear his head, get his bearings and take some time for himself. He walked out back, leaving me alone in a strange house. For thirty minutes, I’ve been listening to the ticking of the clock, hoping he would return before his mom did. I wanted to talk, I wanted to plan, and I needed some type of idea of what I’m going to do.

The banging of the back door, the same one Sin left through, has me feeling a little jumpy. My eyes widen as he enters the room. He’s wearing gym shorts that hang low around his waist and is holding a white towel around his defined shoulders, rubbing water from his hair. He’s either just showered or he’s been sweating. His chest is bare; the colors of his tattoos brightly on display. My eyes glide over his muscles, his pecks smooth and perfect. The pink puckered skin of his largest scar is highlighted by angry purple bruises. His waist tapers down to the well-defined abs and the famous “V” is cut into his body. The sight of him literally makes my mouth water. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Hey.” My voice cracks.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?” My eyes glance to the long scar running lengthwise down the side of his abdomen.