There Are No Saints (Sinners, #1)

by Sophie Lark

I’ve never been one to believe that when a bad thing happens, a good thing follows. But maybe this one time . . . it might be true.

Which means Blackwell is doing me another favor. Favors ALWAYS come with strings.

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 was pushing you away,” I admit. “Why?” “Because I didn’t have control.” “Over what?” “Over how much I wanted you.”

If Cole is so bad, then why does he feel so good?

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