Sinners Condemned (Sinners Anonymous, #2)

by Somme Sketcher

“It feels like your heart is walking outside of your body.” Her gaze finds Angelo’s again, and I watch in fascination as a pink flush creeps from underneath her necklace. “My heart now wears Armani and has a Glock for every day of the week.”

What was I thinking? I strolled into this phone booth like I was going for a Sunday walk. Like I wasn’t trapping myself into an eight-by-four box with a girl whose half-naked body I’d thought about at least once an hour for three days straight.

“Have you ever been in love, Penelope?”

“Women don’t fall in love; they fall into traps.”

“I don’t have all day.” “And I don’t have a broken leg. Don’t need your help, thanks.”

“You’re a dog, Penelope,” he says breezily over his shoulder. “I should look into putting you down.” “They already tried.” His footsteps slow to a stop and he glances back at me. “And?” “I bit the vet.”

At first, I think it’s another playing card, but when I pull it out, I realize it’s a Black Amex. My eyes clash with Raphael’s. “Pin is four, eight, four, two,” he says quietly. He locks his fingers behind his head and leans back against the headrest. His gaze flashes like a warning sign. “Now, take it off.”

“Strip for another man again, and he’ll die crossing the road.”

“Because last night, I saw you laugh.”