57. SIN

I could remember one time when I knocked on death's door.

It was that day when the dogs attacked me. The doctors told mother that I was lucky to be alive because I had lost a lot of blood. I had wished to die that day because I hated my life.

But things were different the second time I knocked on death's door.

Michel had been by my side, begging me not to leave them, apologizing for not being on time to protect me.

I had been shot that night. Not on purpose, but by a stray bullet that hit me while I was running.

Draven had taken me to the motel where he found me to return me to my pack, but things had gone wrong when Jackson and his men showed up. He hit me and then told me to run if something happened to him. Jackson had pulled his gun first, demanding that Draven tell him where I was, but he had refused.

Maybe Tyrone was right, maybe it wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t asked Draven for help, he had decided to help me on his own free will and it had unfortunately ended up getting him