Page 21 of Sin

He looked toward the wall, his jaw ticking. “I don’t know, Sin,” he said in frustration, swiping a hand over his curls. “I have so many emotions warring inside me right now. Sometimes, I look at you and all I want to do is kiss you until I can’t breathe. Then other times, it’s all I can do not to punch you in your fucking nose.”

With a thundering heart, I took a cautious step forward. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll—”

His sharp laughter cut me off, and I watched a mask slip over his face, leaving him staring back at me with a cold expression. “I don’t want anything from you anymore, Sin. I used to want everything, but you showed me just how stupid that was, didn’t you?”

I knew what he was doing. He was lashing out, using his words like a weapon. I wished he wouldn’t. I was too raw for that.

“Lond—”

“No.” His harsh tone had me biting off my words. “I told you I’m not ready to talk, but like always, you just do whatever you want.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been waiting for months to talk to you!” I said in exasperation. “I feel like I’ve been pretty fucking patient, London. For the past six months, I’ve been patiently waiting for you to talk to me. But all I’ve gotten is radio silence.”

He ground his teeth. “I’m still not ready.”

“Then how long?” I gestured at the space between us. “How much longer do I have to wait? Because I just want to make things right, but I can’t if you won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t know how long. Just that it’s going to take time. This isn’t some easy fix, Sin.” His lip curled. “Unless you have time travel powers I wasn’t aware of? Because that’s the only way I can think of to immediately fix things.”

His words hit me like a blow, and I retreated until my back met the wall and had nowhere else to go. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“No.” He crossed the remaining distance between us and brushed up against my front, the move both somehow threatening and sexy as fuck. “What’s not fair is going to call my dad only to remember he won’t pick up the phone. What’s not fair is going to family dinner and having his empty seat at the table. What’s not fair,” his voice rose in volume, making me flinch, “is struggling to fall asleep because all I can see is the memory of that damned video of his death. Then, when I do fucking sleep, that memory follows. What’s not fair, Sin, is that he’s gone. He’s gone because you had daddy issues and gave your father a second chance when he didn’t deserve one.

“What’s not fair is how I fell in love with you, only to have you run away after your mom died. What’s not fair is how you never called, never let me know where you were or if you’d even come back. How I forgave you after you ended things that first time, only for you to break things off with me again before you left for prison. That, Sin, is not fair.”

Every word drove a dagger into my heart because he’d never spoken to me this way. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whispered, scanning his face for some sort of sign that I hadn’t lost him forever, that we still stood a chance of surviving this, even if all he could give me was friendship. “And I’m sorry about the damage my actions caused you and your family. I know I shouldn’t have trusted my dad, but he was all I had.”

London twisted his face away but not before I caught his crestfallen expression. He retreated several feet, taking his warmth with him as he put even more space—both physically and mentally—between us. “He wasn’t all you had, Sin.” His eyes shone. And in a voice just above a whisper, he confessed, “Me. You had me.”

I didn’t think I would have been able to find my vocal chords even if I’d figured out how to respond to him.

Clearing his throat, he grabbed a laptop and moved toward the exit. Pausing in the door, he peered back at me. Any cracks in his mask were now soldered, leaving him with an expression of indifference.

“Welcome to the Legion, Sin,” he said, voice void of emotion. “Maybe now you can make your sorrys mean something.”

And with those parting words, he left me alone in the room with only my dark thoughts for company.

Chapter Five

He has as much muscle as my four-year-old nephew

Several hours later, after leaving me to stew alone in my depressed thoughts, the team finally returned to the room. Only, this time, they weren’t alone.

A man I’d only ever seen on posters and medical advertisements flanked them, looking apprehensive. Mend.

But my attention was quickly diverted when London, who looked freshly showered—unlike myself—and utterly edible in some dark lounge clothes he’d changed into for the evening, moved over to me, holding out a steaming cup of coffee.

We’d left things on a bad note earlier. By the way he struggled to look me in the eye and the guilt lining the corners of his eyes, he felt bad about it.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he said, too soft for anyone else to hear. When I reached for the coffee, he didn’t let go at first. “I said some things I didn’t mean, some I did. Either way, I took things too far. I really do need more time before I’m ready to talk about the future, though. Can you give me that? Time?”

I accepted the peace offering with grateful fingers. “It’s okay. You didn’t say anything I haven’t already been told or thought myself.” I hugged the mug to my chest. “I’m sorry too. I won’t push again. We’ll take things at your pace.”

His lips tipped up in a small but genuine smile. “Thank you.”

As he left my side, he sipped from a ceramic cup proclaiming himself as the World’s Prettiest Nerd. Since I doubted London bought that mug himself, I had my suspicions as to who did.

I watched him, feeling much lighter than I had a few hours ago, as he spoke in low tones with Mend. He sipped deep and slow from his drink. If I were to hazard a guess, it was probably tea. While he loved coffee, London always drank chamomile tea after using his powers. It was something his dad used to do for him when his powers first emerged, and…

---