Page 7 of Sinner's Malice

The second his eyes met mine, he stiffened, then growled, taking a step back.

“Malice, meet the street rat who’s been giving Shame a run for his money. Shit. Sorry, girl. What’s your name?”

Gulping, I slowly stood.

I don’t know what made me say it, but all I could think about was how silver his eyes were. Like molten, swirling silver.

I’d never seen eyes like his before.

“Silver.”

“Cool name,” Montana said, getting to his feet.

I couldn’t look away from him as he glared menacingly at me. His fists balled tightly at his sides while his sterling silver eyes bored into mine.

“Silver, I need someone to help clean this place. You good with that? I’ve got a room you can stay in and all the free food you can eat. The brothers won’t bother you.”

Blinking, I turned to Montana.

“You’re offering me a job?”

“For now, I’m offering you a warm bed and food. You can’t be over seventeen, maybe eighteen. Can’t have you doing much until you’re legal, but yeah.”

Malice growled again.

“So, what do you say?” I vaguely heard Montana ask.

Looking from man to man, I whispered, “Only if it’s okay with him.”

Looking at Malice, we both waited and when the man did an about-face and stormed away, Montana groaned. “Fucking Malice. Ignore him. He’s an asshole.”

“No. He’s more than that,” I murmured as I followed Montana into the warehouse.

Looking around the room, Montana said was mine, I didn’t know what to think. It wasn’t much. Then again, I didn’t expect much. But there was a full-size bed, a dresser, a small desk, and a nightstand. Along with a private bathroom that had fresh towels and products at the ready. It was very nice of Montana to offer me a job, and I didn’t take his offer lightly. I just wished I knew what he wanted me to do. If he was on the level about me cleaning the place, I would happily do it.

I would welcome the hard work for room and board.

The only thing that stopped me was Malice, or Mr. Scott.

He knew me.

Knew what had happened.

The man would barely look at me.

As the night wore on, the more I thought about it, the more I knew I couldn’t stay. Not with Mr. Scott knowing about my past. It was bad enough he found me at my worst, but to see him every day, knowing what he knew. I just couldn’t do it.

In fact, I was so tired of it all.

Tired of running.

Tired of being hungry.

Tired of being cold.

Tired of just plain existing.

I just wanted to sleep and never wake up.