“Sin is going to hang out with you tonight while we’re gone,” Ashes said, coming into the room wearing all black. He matched Stitches, whose arms were wound tightly around me on the couch.
“You’re going to be good, right?” Stitches murmured in my ear.
I nodded for him, earning a kiss.
Truth be told, I was excited to see Sin tonight. I felt like we’d had a major breakthrough the last time we’d been together. I wasn’t so scared to be around him now. I wasn’t sure when that had happened. Perhaps it was when I realized I was afraid of nearly everything and needed to prioritize what I needed to truly be fearful of.
He didn’t make my list.
Maybe it was because I knew my watchers would take care of him again if he toed out of line. Or maybe it was because I saw more than the sinner before me. I saw someone who was struggling and hurting like I was.
I saw someone broken and scared.
Sin was all of us. He just screamed it louder than we did.
And for that, I wanted to hold him close and let him know everything could be OK if he’d let it.
Like I was one to talk.
I was terrified of Adam. Everett. Sully. All the monsters hiding in the dark here.
I’d been waking up nearly every night with a nightmare of it all. Ashes was always so sweet over it, but it was Stitches who was the one to offer me the comfort. Not that Ashes didn’t. It was simply that Stitches had lived through many of the horrors with me, and I knew he still struggled with them. We were sort of bonded in that darkness.
With Asylum.
I sighed, thinking of him. It was weird for him to not be around. But Mirage. I smiled at that. Mirage was. . . everything. They all were though.
Even Bryce.
I didn’t really know when the transformation happened in my heart, but it was there. I felt for him. For Asylum. For Mirage. For Sin. For the watchers. It was a lot, and it made me feel overwhelmed. I didn’t like to think about it, so I focused on one thing at a time.
Right now, it was getting Sin sorted so he could come home. Even if Church was angry, I knew Ashes was already past it, and Stitches was working on it. I just needed to get them all to see that even if Sin decided he wasn’t interested in me, he was still a part of our family. Or his family since they were his way before they were mine.
I knew what love did to Sin.
It made him feel. It made him crazy. It made him kill.
I breathed out, untangled myself from Stitches, and went to Ashes, who hugged me against his body.
“I’ll miss you, heaven.”
I kissed his soft lips before pulling away and taking his hand in mine.
I’ll miss you too.
He smiled at my words as the doorbell rang. Stitches answered it, and Sin stepped into the room a moment later, snowflakes in his blond hair and a notebook in his hand.
His gaze swept over me briefly, with no emotion on his face, before he focused on the guys.
“We won’t be gone long,” Ashes said, breaking away from me to go all business.
“Take your time. Get it out of your system, or you’ll end up needing to go mid-week,” Sin said knowingly.
Stitches nodded. “He’s right. You do it every damn time you cut a burning short. Or you set something on fire in here.”
Ashes grumbled out something before sighing. “You’re right. Fine. Call if you need anything. We worry.”
“She’s in good hands. I have Cady’s number. The psycho I live with. Bryce. Church. I don’t have a shortage of people to call if I need something.”
“Speaking of that psycho you live with,” Stitches started. “How’s that going? Is he that weird all the time?”
“He’s. . . weird in different ways. Always. It’s tiring.” Sin looked to me. I knew what he meant. The switch probably made his head hurt. Always the same, yet always different. Unless you knew, you didn’t know shit. Then again, I’d always known something was up. It took nearly dying and seeing my monster again to put the pieces together to get the full picture.
I didn’t hate Asylum, though. I didn’t even fear him anymore.
Not really. I mean, he was terrifying, but so was Mirage. And Sin. And all the guys.
But I’d decided I didn’t want to hate any of them, so I didn’t. There were far more important people out there who deserved my wrath than a couple of guys trying to get their heads in the right space.
“Does he watch you sleep at night? He reminds me of some creep who would watch you sleep,” Stitches continued.
“Like Church?” Sin smirked at Stitches.
“You’ve got a point there. And to be fair, Church only watches Sirena at night.” Stitches winked at me. “But something tells me baby girl likes that about him.”
I winked back at him, making his grin bigger.
“He actually called me today,” Ashes said after putting his boots on. “Church. He’s been busy dealing with Everett’s bullshit.” Ashes moved his gaze to me quickly. I had no idea what he’d been doing. I tried to not dwell on it because I was scared of what Church was capable of in the hands of his father.
“Is everything OK?” Sin asked.
Stitches shrugged. “Is it ever?”
“Good point.” Sin let out a sigh.
“Everett has him following around some people, learning about them. I think at some point Everett’s going to call on him to do some real damage, aside from what he’s already doing in the Underground.”
Sin nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “I see. Well, I’ll be here to watch over Siren if that happens. Just text me.”
Ashes and Stitches exchanged looks. It was Ashes who spoke, though.
“Maybe Church and you could talk when he gets back—”
“It’s fine, Asher. I’m good. Really. I’m not going to bother him with my shit. I know what I did was fucked up. I’m making peace with the consequences. Even if they fucking hurt.” He glanced at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
He’d changed so much. He was still grouchy, but that exterior had become cracked and worn, and I was able to see the man beneath it. The one who wanted to love and be loved. The one I could even. . .
Damn.
I smiled at him, making the sadness in his gray eyes recede.
Stitches cleared his throat.
“Uh, we should get going. It’s getting late. Angel, baby, don’t do anything. . . well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Keep Sin in line, OK?” He kissed me, lowering his voice. “I’m serious. I worry about you. Alone.”
I squeezed his hand, letting him know I would be safe with Sin. It seemed Stitches still had his reservations despite the niceties happening between the three of them.
Stitches released me, and Ashes took his spot, kissing me slowly.
“I love you,” he whispered against my lips. “We’ll be back soon.”
I nodded at him before going up on my toes for another kiss. He gave it freely before pulling his lighter out and flipping it open and closed five times, the flame burning bright for a moment before he snapped it closed and did it all over again.
“Sin, take care of our girl,” Stitches called out once he got to the door.
“I will,” Sin answered, inclining his head at them before they opened the door and left, leaving just me and Sin alone.
We stood staring at one another for a moment before Sin cleared his throat and gave me a nervous smile.
“I, uh, brought a notebook.” He held up the black notebook for me to see. “And a pen.”
I said nothing as I went to the couch to sit and looked over the back at him. He shuffled from foot to foot for a moment before he came over.
“Can, I mean, do you want me to sit next to you?” He seemed so bashful about it all, and it made me smile. I’d have never thought Sinclair Priest could be this nervous guy. He was always so cold, withdrawn, and rough.
I patted the cushion next to me. He moved forward and sat before he opened the notebook. I watched while he wrote quickly in it.
I wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to just speak to me, but I didn’t hate that he wrote the notes. In fact, I rather liked the effort he put in.
What do you want to do?
I took the notebook from him and answered.
Talk? I like doing this.
He smiled at me, and I wrote another note.
How are classes?
He frowned and took the pen.
Lame. I’m not a fan of school. I can’t wait until I’m done.
I studied his answer, wondering what he planned next in his life. The possible answer made me nervous because, ultimately, I hoped it had to do with me and the guys.
What will you do after you graduate from the program?
He took the pen back from me and poised it over the paper for a long time before he finally wrote.
I honestly don’t know. I guess I never thought past Chapel Crest. I like building things, so maybe I’ll work in construction or something. What about you?
I bit my bottom lip for a moment before writing my plans. Hopes. Dreams.
I want to paint. Mayfair has an excellent art program. When I was younger, I dreamed of attending there to learn to sing better. Now, I’d be happy to go so that I can paint with some of the best.
He stared at the page for a moment.
Do you sing?
I hesitated before writing my response.
I used to sing and dance. I did ballet for many years. I even tried after I was hurt. I just couldn’t anymore. My body didn’t want to move like it used to. I loved ballet. I always wondered if maybe I could grow up to be a famous ballet dancer/singer. Silly, huh?
He took the pen back from me.
It’s not silly, Siren. It’s a wonderful dream. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a professional hockey player. My dad loved hockey. Maybe I thought if I played, it would make him proud of me and create some semblance of happiness in his life since he seemed so angry about everything. I played for a few years and did good, but then shit happened to me too. So here I am.
His words saddened me. I hadn’t known he played hockey and had loved it.
Do you think you’d play again? For you this time?
He quietly contemplated my words before snagging the pen from me and writing his answer.
Maybe. I don’t really have a reason to do it anymore, even if I do still love it.
That made me sad. I even said as much.
What about doing it for you and not worrying about anyone else?
He let out a soft chuckle.
In case you didn’t know, one of my toxic traits is that I’m always doing things for myself. I’m trying to do things for others as a means to an end to the noise in my head. I’m trying to be better for those around me.
I paused before writing my answer because I wanted to get it just right for him.
You’re better than you think, Sinclair. I wish you could see what I see.
His bottom lip quivered for a moment as he held the pen. I wasn’t even sure he was going to write back before he finally put the pen to the page.
I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you, Siren. I will punish myself every day for my sins against you and the guys. Until my dying breath. I pray every night it’s my last night in this perpetual hell. And each day, I awaken, forced to bear the pain another day. I only hope someday you can forgive me. If you can never do that, then I accept it.
I watched him finish writing. He wiped quickly at his eyes before handing the notebook and pen to me. Quickly, he got to get to his feet and walk away. My chest clenched at his words, and my heart filled with pain.
I didn’t want him to punish himself. He was sick like the rest of us, and it wasn’t a good enough reason to be punished. It wasn’t our fault. It was the monsters before us.
Everything fell into place in that moment. I was seeing him. The real Sinclair Priest. The lost boy who was struggling to find his way out of despair.
Carefully, I got to my feet and went to him in the kitchen, where he was banging around, pulling pots and pans out to cook the macaroni and cheese.
I went straight to him and took his hand in mine.
He paused what he was doing and looked at me, his blond hair hanging in that shaggy way I liked around his face. It was the look in his eyes that sealed the deal.
He was a man with very little hope or happiness in the world.
He wasn’t a danger to me. Not really. Maybe he’d stomp on my heart someday, but I didn’t see that day being today.
“Siren,” he started, a pained look on his face.
“I forgive you, Sinful.”
A breath whooshed out of him, and he stared me down, so much turmoil on his face.
“You shouldn’t have to. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have done what I did. If I’d have just given you a chance. . . or given myself the chance.” He let out a breath and stared up at the ceiling before looking back at me. “Bells fucked me up. I loved her. Or believed I did. It was the only kind of love I knew, I guess. The love from my mother seemed to have come to an end after my dad tried to kill us. I was violent and unpredictable. Angry. I pushed her away, and I guess it probably worked because she walked away from me one day, and now I’m here.”
I watched him, wishing there was something I could do to make him feel better.
He sighed. “What I felt for Bells wasn’t what I thought it was.” He visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “I-I thought that was love. She was my entire world. We were going to have a kid.” He rubbed his eyes. “I still deal with that. Knowing my kid was killed by her out of her anger and sickness. She betrayed me and worked for Church’s old man. She never even loved me, even though she told me she did. Led me on. Made me feel like I had a chance at happiness only to rip it away from me and leave me like this.” He looked away from me, his hands trembling.
I stepped forward and reached for him, taking his face gently in my hands and steering his attention back to me.
“I’m a fuck up, Siren. I’m afraid it’s all I’ll ever be. I-I even ruined my family. I want to come home. I’m not the same person I was then. I swear I’m not. Church doesn’t believe me, but it’s not like I blame him after the shit I did.”
“You’re just lost,” I murmured.
“Who would even care to look?” His gray eyes flashed with his pain, making me hurt even more for him.
I went for it. I wrapped my arms around him, earning a soft cry from him, his body jerking.
Quickly, I pulled away, feeling like I’d done something wrong.
The twisted look of agony on his face made my heart jump.
“S-sorry,” he managed. “I-I punish myself. I’m just a little sore.”
His words sickened me. I’d heard he was doing that, but I didn’t realize it was to the extent that he couldn’t even be hugged.
I reached for him again, but he jerked away.
My words failed me, so I tried again, backing him into the corner of the kitchen counter. My words didn’t work, but my body sure as hell did.
I reached out and began unbuttoning his top. He stopped fighting me on it, his breathing shaky.
I’d never had the chance to take Sin’s shirt off, but when it finally fell open, it was to see beautiful planes of corded, thick muscles and bruises. So many painful bruises in different levels of healing. And the cuts.
They were deep and weeping with little trickles of blood. He hadn’t even bothered to bandage them.
My nostrils flared as I took him in.
My name was etched deep into his chest. Scarred forever in my name.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out.
I said nothing. Instead, I took him by the hand, led him back to the couch, and had him sit. Quickly, I scribbled a note to him.
Don’t move. I’ll be right back.
I left him before I went into the downstairs bathroom and rummaged around until I found all the first aid supplies the guys had. I brought it all back out and went to my knees before Sin. He stared down at me, his lips parted.
Wordlessly, I pushed his shirt off and began doctoring him up, taking care to clean the wounds on his body.
When I’d gotten all of them taken care of, I stared at my name carved into his chest. The scarring looked like it had been a painful ordeal. The redness was still surrounding it, and the skin was raised slightly with each letter.
Gently, I traced my fingers along the letters.
S-I-R-E-N
“Why?” I whispered, staring into his eyes.
He captured my hand in his, wrapping it around my small one.
“So you’d be near my heart,” he answered in a soft voice. “Always.”
I closed my eyes at his words. As if I couldn’t hurt anymore for him, then he goes and tells me these things.
His words hurt my soul.
There had to be something I could do. Something we could do.
Maybe he was still scared to fall. To let go.
But I knew I was too afraid to say my feelings or make a move to show him how I felt about him.
So I did the next best thing.
I leaned in and placed a tender kiss over his heart.
His eyes were closed, his breathing deep, when I pulled away from him. I watched him, intrigued by this beautiful man who was terrified to feel anything.
Once he finally gave in, though, it would be a hurricane.
I wouldn’t mind being the girl caught in the eye of it, but I didn’t know how to say it, so I took the notebook and wrote him a message instead.
Macaroni and cheese?
He looked at my words for a moment before he smiled and cradled my face.
“Yeah, Siren. Let’s make macaroni and cheese.”
I gave him a smile, hoping he could see how much I cared. He thumbed my bottom lip for a moment.
“I would give anything to make you macaroni and cheese forever if it’s what you wished.”
Leaning in, I hugged him gently, making sure to wind my arms around his neck instead of his torso. He exhaled and hugged me back, his face buried in my neck. We stayed that way for a long time before he broke away.
“Come on. I’ll tell you my secret recipe.”
I grinned as I took the hand he offered and let him lead me away.
