Sins of the Father (Ravens Ruin MC 1)

She doesn’t crumble under the weight of her father’s belligerent confession. Going by the look on her face, she’s heard things just as harsh growing up, the same as me.

Right before my eyes, she changes. She’s no longer the teasing woman who bit her lower lip when I called her into the room while Legs bounced up and down on my cock. She’s not the timid girl who tried to push Xena away in embarrassment when she was caught with her legs spread.

The woman in front of me now is the girl who pushed open the door to room four and found that redheaded girl sucking my dick. This girl is done. She’s done with feeling, done with hurting, and fucking done with life. She no longer cares. Not for me or what her father thinks of her. She doesn’t give a shit what happens, she’s lost all reason to function.

I shove Briar away, uncaring that his phone falls to the damp concrete and shatters.

“Baby?” I reach for her, but her vacant eyes no longer look in my direction. “Zoe?”

She sidesteps me, and by the time I feel the tug at my back, it’s already too late. The gunshot echoes thunderously around the room, and my world implodes.Chapter 38Candi

A laugh nearly bubbles out of my throat at the sight of Briar’s stunned face, until I realize it’s my own father’s blood and brain matter rolling down his cheeks.

Within seconds of using Lynch’s gun to silence my father’s relentless taunts, Ronan steps forward and cuts the rope around his neck. His lifeless body crumples to the floor, and all I can do is stare down at him.

I feel nothing.

There isn’t a hint of love I thought I felt for him left.

There’s no remorse or wishful thinking that things were different.

Even as his emotionless eyes stare up at me with creepy accusation, I feel nothing.

A distant clatter manages to restart my heart, jolting me out of my trance, and I feel someone wrap their arm around me before tugging on my hands. Looking down, I see Lynch pulling his gun from my trembling fingers.

I understand the action. He can’t allow the woman he’s fixing to kill any form of defense. That would make this a fair fight, and nothing’s fair when the Ravens Ruin MC is involved. I’ve taken away his method of revenge against my father. Surely, there are consequences for that.

“I don’t care how fucking epic that was,” TJ says from somewhere behind me, “if anyone suggests we start letting women patch in, I’m moving to fucking Mexico.”

An odd round of chuckles filter through the room, but my brain can’t focus on one single thing. I’m jostled, the sight of my father dead on the floor begins to fade into the distance. I do the only thing I can. I close my eyes and once again pray that my death will be painless. I can die happy knowing one other thing has been checked off my list. I’ll die knowing how it felt to love, even if that man is a monster. The only thing that would’ve made my life complete would’ve been being loved, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?

Death isn’t so bad. It’s warmth and comfort. It’s a soft whisper promising everything will be okay. It’s the brush of a reassuring hand and soft kisses against my cheek. Had I known dying was so consoling, I would’ve made the transition long ago.

“Baby?”

I nuzzle into the angel of death, cooing my acceptance.

“Open your eyes, Zoe.”

They snap, obeying immediately. Only death isn’t what I thought at all. Death isn’t empty tunnels of light and peace and serenity. As it turns out, my ideal death is the cascading shower fall in Lynch’s bathroom, and his warm hands holding me against the expanse of his hard chest.

I push away from him on instinct. I don’t want to die here, alone and naked in the shower with him serving as the only witness. At least in front of his men, my execution seemed honorable in some fucked up way. He reaches for me again, surprisingly giving me space when I inch further away, even though defeat marks his eyes.

I’m naked. He’s naked, and I have no fucking clue how I got here or if anything is fucking real. It has to be a nightmare. Shit like this doesn’t really happen.

My father’s harsh words filter in, and the urge to pull that trigger hits me all over again. It slams in my chest as my eyes dart everywhere looking for Lynch’s gun.

He reaches for me again, getting one arm around my back before I try to push him away.

“Get off me,” I hiss.

“You’re safe, baby. Let me hold you.”

I shove at him, clawing at his chest like a crazed, injured animal. He doesn’t budge. He only holds me tighter, even when blood blooms on his skin from my fingernails.