There Are No Saints (Sinners, #1)

by Sophie Lark

I feel no sympathy. No guilt. Those are emotions I’ve never experienced. I’m aware, academically, of the full range of human emotions. I’ve studied them intently so I can mimic their effects. But they have no power over me. What I do feel, I feel intensely: rage, revulsion, and pleasure.

All I learned is that no amount of submission is good enough for a man. You can roll over, show your belly, beg for mercy, and they’ll just keep hitting you. Because the very act of breathing is rebellious in the eyes of an angry male.

“Evil men always want to justify what they do,” she says. “And it’s not by telling you all their reasons. No . . . they want to push you, and bend you, and break you until you snap. Until you do something you thought you’d never do. Until you can’t even recognize yourself. Until you’re as bad as they are. That’s how they justify themselves . . . by trying to make you the same as them.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” she says. Then she kisses me on the mouth.

And I realize . . . she’s everything I dreamed of and more. More vengeful. More strategic. More effective. More fucked up.

She fucked on that painting, and then she hung it on my wall. I’m struck anew by the absolute insanity of this girl. I admire her audacity. While planning how I’ll punish her for it.

“I own you now, Mara. You belong to me, whether you like it or not.”

He presses harder with the tattoo gun, and with his fingers under my clit. He strokes me hard, while drawing god knows what on my flesh.

“Say it, Mara. Tell me you belong to me . . .”

“Yes, Mara,” he says quietly. “This is me being kind. Being merciful. You need to understand that—because if you try to crack me open, you won’t like what crawls out.”

My back burns. I bet her ribs are burning too. I like that we’re feeling the same pain at the same time. I like that I marked her, and she marked me. We’re bound together now, her art on my skin and mine on hers.

Cole looks at me with that dark, steady gaze. “Or he knew that love is inherently dangerous.”

“Absolutely I do. He disrespected you. Put his hands on you. I’d kill him for much less.”

“You’ve been watching over me. Protecting me. Helping me. You might have told yourself it was for your own enjoyment, for your own fucked up reasons. But you care about me, Cole, I know you do. I’ve seen it. Maybe you don’t want to care. Maybe you’d like to kill me right now to stop it. But I don’t believe you will. Too much has happened between us. You’ve changed too much.”

“It’s okay to enjoy it. I know you don’t want to. I know it embarrasses you. But you need it. You’ve got all that guilt and shame built up inside of you . . . this is the only release. Because you know that after you get spanked, you’re not in trouble anymore. You can be forgiven. You’re a good girl.”

“It’s up to you what’s good and what’s bad. There is no god outside you. You are god. This is your world, your life. YOU decide what to feel.”