Page 13 of His Sinner

We search in every room, closet, nook, and cranny, Briar making frequent comments like, “I didn’t even know this room existed,” and “I’m pretty sure I’ve counted thirty-five rooms. What use could you possibly have for thirty-five rooms?”

But no matter where my flashlight lands, we don’t stumble across the mysterious intruder.

We make our way back down to the breaker, and I flip the power on. Other than the hum of the lights and appliances, Nicholson Manor remains silent. We’re alone.

Briar whirls on me. “I know what you’re thinking—I’m paranoid, I’m delusional, and I need to stop watching so much true crime. But I’m telling you, there was someone in this house. They literally chased me out the door.”

“I believe you.”

She visibly relaxes at the quick assurance in my tone. “Maybe it’s one of those phrogging situations. Somebody moved in while you weren’t home and decided to chase me out. The groundskeeper, maybe.”

If he really was the one she saw watching us the other night, it’s possible he could’ve decided to take shelter in my empty manor for the winter. I would’ve happily allowed him to stay in a room if he’d asked. But now that he’s chosen to terrorize my muse, he’ll be lucky if I allow him to take another breath.

I grab her face in both hands, her skin so soft and delicate and beautiful. In need of my protection. “This is my fault. I should’ve kept our home more secure. I should’ve installed a hundred cameras and locks when I knew I was bringing you here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. That will never happen again. I will never leave your side if it means I can keep you safe.”

She scoffs, even though the tiny smile tells me my words bring her comfort. “You can’t be by my side twenty-four-seven.”

“Watch me.”

“Absolutely not. I need my space. If I’m around you constantly, you’ll drive me insane. And you’re not watching me while I’m on the toilet taking a shit.”

“I’ll be in the room, but I’ll put on headphones and turn my back to give you some privacy.”

Her nose scrunches in disgust, and I manage a laugh.

I’m the stupidest man alive for leaving her here alone. For assuming she would be safe, even after what happened to my mother. What nearly happened to me when I was left alone.

I failed to protect my mother, but I won’t fail Briar. I can’t. I can’t lose them both.

I don’t care if she doesn’t like it. I don’t care if she wants her space or wants to push me away. I’m not going anywhere. This is the last time I ever take my eyes off her.

For as long as I’m breathing, I will be the other half of her soul and the shadow at her back.

“Saint?”

“Yes, muse?”

Her eyes are hard, resolute. “I want you to teach me how to kill somebody.”

“You wouldn’t think a reclusive, anonymous author would have enough enemies to warrant a private shooting range,” Briar mumbles. She’s adorable in my oversized coat and knit hat.

“Never know when I’ll need to brush up on my marksmanship.”

We slip on earmuffs and safety goggles. May the universe watch over me as I attempt to survive an afternoon of teaching Briar how to shoot.

“For your first lesson, I’ll teach you how to use a pistol.” I duck down to murmur in Briar’s ear. “Maybe later, I’ll show you how to use something bigger.”

She smirks, eyes glimmering behind the goggles before she grabs the gun. She waves the pistol around until it’s pointing directly at my feet. “Wow, this is surprisingly heavy. So how do I shoot this thing?”

I shove her hands forward, pointing the pistol ahead. Jesus. There is no way I’m surviving this. “First rule: never point a gun at anyone or anything you’re not willing to shoot. Especially me.”

“Even if it’s not loaded?”

“Every firearm is loaded. Even if you know you dropped the magazine and emptied the chamber. Always treat it like it’s loaded so you avoid an accident.”

“Okay, so don’t point it at you until I’m ready to shoot. Got it.” Briar flashes me a naughty smirk.

“Don’t make me punish you,” I warn, and she stiffens. I step up behind her, brushing her back before caressing her hands as goosebumps spring up along her arms. “Your grip is important for accuracy and safety. Wrap your left hand around the grip like this”—I guide her, balls tightening as my cock rubs against her ass—“and tuck your other hand in to fit beside it. Your right hand should be as high on the grip as possible while staying below the slide. Keep it high to reduce the recoil but below the slide so it doesn’t tear through your hand.”

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