Finally, I nod. She’s safer with me than here alone. “Ten minutes.”
ELLINGTON
I SIT INthe back of my car while Sin drives and my father is in the passenger seat. He said he needed to go somewhere, and I was given ten minutes to get dressed and in the car. I can tell they’re not getting along.
We’ve been in the car for over thirty minutes, and they haven’t said a word to one another.
“Next right, up here around the corner,” my father finally speaks, pointing out of the windshield.
I look over to Sin who has one wrist draped over the steering wheel. He’s relaxed in the seat, but I can tell by his hard jaw that he’s not happy. I’m not sure what they said to one another after I left the living room, but it obviously wasn’t friendly. Or maybe it’s me he’s mad at, which I couldn’t care less about. If anyone should be mad, it’s me.
“Right here,” my father speaks once more, pointing to what looks like a driveway.
Sin slows the car and makes the turn. We’re on a gravel road, grass overgrown on either side. Some coming up in places through the gravel.
A house comes into view. It’s gorgeous, or at least once was. One story and the front nothing but glass windows, the little siding it has is black with matching trim. You can tell it’s older. Long forgotten by the flower beds out front left to die and taken over by weeds.
My father turns around and looks at me. “Does this look familiar?”
I frown at his odd question but it’s Sin who speaks first. “Why the fuck would this look familiar to her?”
My father continues to look at me, ignoring Sin as he brings the car to a stop in front of the house. I shake my head, knowing he’s expecting me to answer. “No.”
“Nicholas,” Sin growls, getting out and slamming the driver side door shut.
I crawl out from the back as my father holds the front seat forward for me. “Just curious,” he answers vaguely.
I frown, so over this. I always imagined what it would be like to have my father. But the him before I thought he committed suicide. He’s different now. I can tell by the way he walks, carries himself. I don’t see it being a good thing.
We make our way up the three stone steps and my father bends down, picking up a once black flowerpot but over time the sun has turned it an ugly shade of gray. He removes a key and unlocks the front door.
It squeaks as we enter. The house smells musty and stale. Like it’s been abandoned for years. It’s sad, really. I bet it was gorgeous back in its prime.
“Last chance, Nicholas. Why the fuck are we here?” Sin demands. My eyes drop down to the back of his shirt as he stands in front of me, and I see the outline of his gun tucked into his jeans.
My cheeks flush, remembering what he did to me with it back when he was the masked man that I wanted to stalk me for the rest of my life. Now he’s my husband. Funny how dreams come true in ways you never could have imagined. Too bad I want to punch him in the face now.
“I want to see something,” he answers and walks through the house. Going over to a door off of a hallway, he pushes it open and there’s a set of stairs to a basement.
My father goes first and then Sin grabs my hand, pushing me to go next, and then he goes behind me, leaving the door open at the top of the stairs for extra light.
Making the last step, I wrap my arms around myself and run my hands up and down my body to create friction. “It’s cold in here.”
Sin comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on top of my head, but I feel how stiff his body is. He doesn’t trust my father. He’s not trying to warm me up, he’s trying to protect me from the unknown. My father has obviously been here before and I’m not sure we should trust him. Who knows why he brought us here.
“Do you recognize anything, Elli?” my father asks again, and I hear Sin growl in annoyance.
I frown but look around the room. It’s nothing special. An old dingy white sheet covers something in the middle of the room. Other than that, there’s nothing else in here that I see could be important. “No.”
Sin drops his arms from my chest, and I instantly miss the heat from him. He steps around me. “Nicholas—”
“What about you, Easton? Do you recognize anything?” My father interrupts whatever he was about to say.
Sin tilts his head, his dark brows pulling down at the odd question. “Why? Should I?”
Instead of answering, my father walks over to the white sheet and yanks it off to reveal an old dingy twin mattress. It’s got stains all over it. I’m guessing sweat and blood. Some look dark brown like pop but I guess that could be blood too. Not sure. “I don’t understand,” I say and look over at Sin.
His body is rigid, eyes staring straight ahead, jaw clenched, and hands fisted by his sides. “Sin?” I ask, but he doesn’t even blink. Stepping closer, I place my hand on his shoulder and he jumps back from me. “Sin, what’s wrong?” I ask, eyes searching his wide ones. I don’t understand. “What am I missing?” I ask no one in particular.