SIN BOUND

The rain hit harder the moment I crossed the city limits, like even the sky knew I had nowhere else to run. My phone was dead. My shoes were soaked. And the blood on my hand—his blood—was already drying into something that felt permanent. I didn’t cry. Not this time. I’d cried too much over men who used me, broke me, owned me. I was done. And yet, I was running again. I didn’t plan to end up outside a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. I just followed the highway until the lights faded and the silence became too loud. That’s when I saw him. He stood under the awning, a cigarette burning between two fingers. Black coat. Sharp jaw. Unbothered. Watching me like he’d been waiting all night. "You lost?" he asked, voice smooth but dangerous. Like velvet hiding a blade. I should’ve walked away. Should’ve kept running. Instead, I said, “That depends. You planning to help me or kill me?” A small smirk curved his lips. “Maybe both.” He stepped closer. I didn't back away. I should have. There was something in his eyes—gray, cold, unreadable. Like he’d seen too much. Like he was too much. “What’s your name?” he asked. I hesitated. “Aria.” He didn’t blink. “Lying already. Cute.” “And you are?” I shot back. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot. “Call me Saint.” Saint. It didn’t fit him. Nothing holy about him. He looked like sin made flesh. My body tensed as thunder cracked in the distance. I felt like prey staring down a predator, but something in me was…curious. Drawn. He opened the warehouse door with a single gesture. “You can come inside. Dry off. Rest.” I stared into the dark entrance behind him. It felt like a choice. Walk into the unknown—or go back to the hell I barely escaped. I stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me. And just like that, I wasn’t running anymore. I was falling.