Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series

“A

ll right, that’s it. Just relax.” The man’s voice oozes around the room.

With my eyes shut, laying flat on my back, I do as he says.

“Now give me one more deep inhale, in through your nose. Hold for three… Exhale.” There’s a pause before the man claps. “Great job everyone! You should be proud of the work you put in today. Hopefully, you’ll be walking out of here with your muscles warm and loose.”

“I better be walking out of here bow-legged.” Jessica snickers from her spot next to me.

Still laying down, I roll my head to the side to look at her. “Girl, I’ll riot if you don’t get some dick after that. There’s no way I went through that hell for nothing.”

She widens her eyes at me. “Oh my god, right! I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing. I feel like I just ran a mile.” At my laugh she shrugs. “What? A mile is far.”

As we start to clean up our spaces, I see the instructor make his way over. It was clear how smitten they were with each other the moment we entered the studio. I bite back a smirk as I watch him whisper something into Jessica’s ear causing her to giggle. I’m not at all surprised when Jess tells me she’s going to hang back and talk with Mr. Yoga for a few minutes.

Honestly, I’m happy she’s staying behind. Not only for her sake (because he really is cute), but also for mine. Jess is way too perceptive, and I’m sure it wouldn’t take her long to realize that something was on my mind. Specifically: Vincent.

Wishing her luck, I sling my little duffle over my shoulder and head out. It’s only 2:00, but I already told the team at Mazzanti Enterprises that I’d be working the rest of the day from home. So when I get outside, I turn away from the office and start the short walk to my apartment.

Short walk is key, because – damn – I feel out of shape. After slumping against the elevator wall on the way up to my floor, I nearly have to drag my legs to make them walk again. I’m so tired with exhaustion that I don’t even have the energy to lift my bag off my shoulder as I unlock my door and shuffle inside.

With as little effort as possible, I turn the deadbolt behind me and slide the security chain into place.

With the shower calling my name, I make it all the way across the living room, to the mouth of the hallway, before I realize that something is wrong. Captain hasn’t greeted me. He always greets me at the door. Always.

I pause and look around, worry instantly filling my limbs.

Sweeping my eyes across the living room, I spot him on his window perch. Hunched over. Fur puffed up. Eyes wide open.

The worry turning inside me slowly forms into fear.

“What’s wrong buddy…” I whisper.

A creak at the end of the hallway answers me.

In what feels like slow motion, I turn my head toward the sound to see a man stepping out of my bedroom.

For a frozen moment, we stare at each other.

He looks as surprised to see me as I am to see him. He’s several yards away, but even from here I can clearly make out the scary-as-fuck look in his eyes. It’s a look of menace, and I have no doubt that this man means me harm.

He takes a step towards me.

That small action flares my fear into full blooded terror.

My fight or flight reaction kicks in and I dart forward. Two quick steps and I’m inside the guest room. I slam the door and lock the handle. The small click does little to make me feel safe. I’m trapped in here, but I never would have made it back through the front door in time.

The handle rattles. And I scream.

I rush to the small dresser and with strength I didn’t think I had; I shove it in front of the door.

A thud against the door pulls a whimper from my throat. The dresser won’t be heavy enough to hold the door. I drop down, pressing my back against the drawers, hoping that my added weight will be enough to keep him out.

The door rattles again, followed by a louder thud that I can feel through the dresser. I picture him on the other side trying to force the door open and my breathing gets even more rapid. I don’t know if he has a weapon. Could he shoot down the door? Could a bullet go through the door and the dresser and hit me?

“I’m calling the police!” I try to shout, but my voice breaks.

I shut my eyes and swallow.

“I’m calling the police!” This time the shout comes out loud enough that I’m sure he can hear me.

With shaking hands, I pull my phone out of my duffle. I silently thank myself for not dropping the bag when I came in the door.

It takes me two tries to dial.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A calm woman asks.

“Someone is in my house! They broke in!” My breaths are coming in pants and it’s hard to speak.

“What’s your address?”

My muscle memory kicks in and I tell her my address, even though my brain can hardly form a thought.

“Police are on the way. Please stay on the phone with me. What’s your name?”

“S… Sasha Clark.”

 “Is anyone else in the home with you?” She asks.

“No.” I shake my head. Then I remember. “My cat! Oh god, what if he hurts my cat!”

“Try to stay calm, Miss Clark.”

“But what if he takes Captain?” I cry.

The woman’s voice remains steady. “Have you ever tried to pick up a cat that doesn’t want to be grabbed?”

I almost laugh but it turns into a choked sob. “Yes.”

“Your cat will be okay. The police are almost there. Where are you in the apartment? Are you secure?”

“I’m in the guest room. Um, the first door down the hallway.” I pause a second and try to listen. “I can’t hear him. I don’t know if he’s still here.” 

“Just stay where you are. The police will announce themselves and let you know when to come out.”

“Okay.”

“You’re doing a great job. The officers will be there any moment.”

As soon as she says it, I hear loud voices from inside my apartment. “Minneapolis Police!”

I can’t make out what they say after that since my ears are buzzing.

“Miss Clark, the police are there now.”

“Yeah. Yes, I hear them.”

“Okay, I’m going to hang up now. They will help you.”

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.” I don’t even realize that I’m crying until I see the tears hit the screen as I try to hang up the call.