Page 51 of The Sinner's Bargain

I squeezed my thighs together and bit my lip as a chill coursed through me. I tried to draw Lacroix’s blazer closer, but the unease was crawling deep into my bones.

“Cold, love?”

I glanced over to find Lacroix watching me.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Nevertheless, he reached for the dashboard and flipped the heater on. The hum filled the silence and replaced the drum of raindrops. Part of me was relieved. The other remained rigid as we drew closer to our destination.

Packed dirt rose about ten minutes later to become blocks of unevenly cut concrete and a guiding wall that was barely high enough to keep a small child out. It ran alongside the car, keeping us separated from the tiny houses built on either side.

“What are those?” I asked, eyeing the slender posts with the tiny windows and doors cut down the length.

“Graves,” Lacroix murmured.

I shifted away from the door as an icy chill clawed down my spine. Away from the window and faced forward.

“We’re here.” Lacroix glanced back to me. “Stay in the car.”

I gave what I hoped was a reassuring nod and watched with a queasy gut as the car pulled up alongside a set of iron gates built in the center of a much higher wall. Just beyond it, I could almost make out the distorted view of a structure cloaked by a swaying curtain of fog. My gaze shot to the side of Lacroix’s gorgeous face, words of uncertainty on my tongue, but he was giving Cyrus instructions in a low murmur I couldn’t hear.

Then he was out of the car with a shove of his door. It swung wide in the brittle silence. With his departure, damp air filled the cabin. I watched him move with long, powerful strides to the gates and shove them open. Then his bleeding into the mist until even his rugged shape could no longer be seen.

I sat peeling the skin from my lips and watching the place he’d gone. My fingers picked at the torn edges of flesh raw and tender across my palms. Blood welled and puddled, and smeared when I swept my thumb over the agitated injuries. I tried to preoccupy my thoughts by studying the dark cluster of wilderness encroaching on the structure, barely contained by the barricade. The naked trees were thick with brittle branches that tangled together as if in battle.

Unlike Lacroix House, the wild landscape didn’t fill me with calm. Even seated in the safety of the car, I could feel the watchful eyes of things I couldn’t see lurking just out of sight. The sensation unsettled me. Had my gaze tearing away from cluster of brush to the house where Lacroix was.

“It usually doesn’t take very long.”

I met Cyrus’s gaze in the rearview mirror, slightly startled by the sudden interruption to the nerve-wracking silence. “Does he come here often?”

My companion lifted a shoulder. “Not often. He doesn’t like people coming to Lacroix House, so we usually met them somewhere else.”

That made sense, yet I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why is that? Why doesn’t he like people at the house?” I clarified when he watched me curiously.

“Lots of reasons, but Mr. Lacroix is very private.”

“Have you known him long?” I asked, relieved for the distraction.

Cyrus chuckled low in his throat. “A while.”

Uncertain of the boundaries and not wanting to press my luck, I held back the flood of follow up questions that followed. I sat back against the cool leather and let the horrible quiet fill back up.

“Where did you grow up?”

I blinked at the question and found my gaze jumping up to the blue eyes watching me still in the mirror.

“Michigan,” I lied, blurting the first name that popped into my head.

“That’s quite a way. Where in Michigan?”

I shook my head, eyes drifting away to focus on the blood perpetually beneath my nails. “We moved a lot.”

“Siblings?”

Malcolm.

Thoughts of him sent a sharp spear of pain through my chest. My heart wrenched knowing I may never see him again. I wondered if he even knew the plan hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped. Did Wiley even know what happened to his nephew? Did he care? They hadn’t seemed particularly close, but Wiley had promised him money and when Taylen didn’t collect, Wiley would know something was wrong, right? Or would he just not care? To some, money was more important than anything, even family.

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