Page 29 of Sins that Define Us

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“And you don’t think that’s me?” I ask.

“I don’t know that he’s willing to take a risk on you. I think he feels some measure of guilt because he knew you were being abused,” James says, not skirting around the words just because I wasn’t beaten as a child. “He knew what you were going through—the neglect and the pain—and he did nothing.”

“He didn’t have a choice,” I say, but the words feel weak. In truth, James is probably right. Leo’s looking after me now out of some misguided sense of guilt, but it’s too late for him. It’s too late for any of that. He can’t give me what Kane and the misfits can.

There’s no chance in hell that he has a way of filling the gaping void inside me the way these boys do, alone as they all seem to think they are.

I reach up and stroke a hand over his chest. “Should have named yourself the lost boys instead of the misfits.”

He smirks and leans down, and I offer my palm so he can kiss it. He pins my wrist to his face with the round side of his stump and holds it there for a long moment. “We were only lost until Kane.”

Hades, they like to call him, and I will sit as his Persephone, I suppose. I hope to God I can see Guido’s face before he dies. I want to look directly at him when the realization hits him that I’ve willingly walked into the lions’ den and tamed them.

I want him to understand that he underestimated me. I’ve never been more glad that he saw me as some weak pawn who would never amount to anything because things might have been very different. I might be ruling a different empire. The current loves of my life might have become my enemy instead, and that’s not something I want to think about.

“I’m going to talk to him just as soon as I can get a little sleep,” I say.

James hums and gently releases my hand so I can curl back around his leg. Darkness is tugging at my edges, and with everything going on inside my head, it’s impossible to ignore sleep as it comes to claim me.

Chapter 8

KANE

“I haveno choice but to postpone.” Regret hits me like a fucking mallet as the words leave my lips, but it’s not like there are any other options. If I can’t even get a tracker on one of Romano’s boys, there’s no way in hell I’m risking a public ceremony.

Phoenix has a list of about a dozen names now that might be working for Leo. Three of them are on my team, and the rest are either freelancers who will be turned for the right price or men on the periphery of the Romanos’ hold who can be taken out. We just have to find a way to thwart them and get the jump on them before they learn what we’re up to.

The only problem is, we can’t talk about it in the house. I’m officially convinced that the place is bugged. It’s the only explanation.

I have a handful of properties that are off every single grid. Not even members of my own family know about them. The trick will be getting there without anyone noticing.

I pull Phoenix close and slip my fingers against his palm. If someone’s cracked our code, I have to hide. ‘We need a diversion.’

Phoenix’s fingers turn against mine, but they’re still as he speaks. “I think Alice is going to gut you.”

Silently, he says, ‘Tell me when and how.’

I sigh, but behind it is a rush of love, affection, and pride. “I think Alice will just have to deal with it. With James being shot and someone on our asses, I’m not taking the risk.”

‘We need decoys. We need to get out to the March House.’

“Have you brought it up to her?” he asks me.

‘I can do that. It’s going to cost a pretty fucking penny and take a couple days to find someone for Alice.’

‘I’m willing to risk it.’

Phoenix leans in and kisses me, his hand slipping away from mine, cupping my face. He taps a message against my neck out in the open. ‘I love you. We’ll get through this, and she’ll thank you eventually.’

I laugh and shake my head. “If you say so. Do you know where Ari is?”

“Taking out his frustrations on weapons, maybe, or creating some new kind of deadly poison,” he says. Phoenix pulls back and braces his glorious ass against the edge of my desk. He looks calm now, but I’m not sure if it’s a ruse or not. He was trembling and ready to spiral when they got back, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull him back from the ledge.

Twisting my chair, I shift the wheels so I’m between his legs, and I drag my palms up his thighs. He shudders softly, his head tipped down. “Talk to me,” I tell him.

He grunts and drags a hand through his hair. “It was hard, Kane. It was…it was fucking hard. I feltuseless.” I say nothing as he breathes heavily through his nose. I know it’s like getting blood from a stone, getting him to admit when he feels like he’s hit some limit, but he’s worked fucking hard to get here. “I was lost. It…sometimes it’s still so overwhelming.”

I stroke the insides of his thighs with my thumbs. “I know.”


Tags: E.M. Lindsey Romance