Page 46 of Sinful Sorrow

Cato, the man slut?

Cato, the eternally insane and casual?

“Just worried, I guess. She’s somewhere, and I don’t have her back yet. I can’t have her back till I know who the fuck she is, and I don’t get to know who she is till the universe is ready to make the introduction. So Mason already having Naomi and being so loud about it, was grating on my nerves a bit. More so now, ‘cos she’s dead, and so is her baby. He was right there, Arch, and she was still hit.”

“You think he allowed her to be attacked?”

He shrugs. “Can’t say, since I didn’t watch the video. But I’m saying he failed to protect her. And if he loved her as much as he says he does, then that failure is probably tearing him up now. Not sure how a guy can come back from that.”

“We protect the ones we love.” Turning, I fold my arms, so we’re twin reflections. Different decades, different mothers. But the DNA our father passed down runs strong. “We do everything we can, and if it turns to shit anyway, well…” I draw a small, laughing breath. “Most folks seek grief counseling.”

“Yeah? What do Malones do?”

“We set some shit on fire and join her in the afterlife. Smarter Malones would choose a woman who doesn’t have a bleeding disorder that makes her more susceptible to death. Or, ya know,” I shrug. “A woman who has diabetes and can’t go forty-eight hours without insulin or a near death experience.”

His lips curl, soft on one side, reminding me exactly of Felix.

“And Tiia?”

“Death wish. Which is just as fuckin’ dangerous if you ask me.”

“What’s wrong with the hippie?”

Stunned, my brows pinch close. “What do you mean?”

“Felix chose Christabelle: insulin reliant. You chose Minka: Factor reliant. Micah chose Tiia: mostly deaf and definitely crazy. Tim wants the hippie, but maybe it’s not working out because she’s not sick or insane.”

“Or maybe you’re just trying to create a pattern where patterns don’t exist.” Minka strolls into the living room and makes a beeline for me. Or, well, the coffee. “Aubree has her own stuff going on. Just because she doesn’t stick a needle in her body a few times a week doesn’t mean she isn’t right for Tim.”

“Or maybe the fact that she’s an innocent little hippie who fell in love with a mafia heir is her thing,” Cato counters with a playful grin. “That’s a fatal disease if I ever saw one.”

Ignoring him, she heads straight into my arms and rests her cheek on my chest, tangling her hands in my back pockets for extra security. “You didn’t wait for me in the room.”

“You woke up before me and left.” I brush her damp hair aside and press a kiss to her forehead. “I figured coffee was your next step. Yours is done.” I twist and reach out for the black coffee. “Mostly. Still needs creamer.”

“Black works fine.” She accepts her mug in one hand and continues to snuggle. “Aubree’s allowed to be in love with a man and not have a prerequisite illness, by the way. She’s also allowed to not be with him, if that’s what she chooses, and he can’t force the subject. The ball is completely and always in her court.”

“Fuckin’ feminism.” Rolling his eyes, Cato slinks away from the back of the couch and lopes around to the front. So sick of seeing the love stuff while he worries about someone he doesn’t even know yet. “I don’t think women should support feminism the way they do. They need men to protect them.”

“Good lord.” I close my eyes as Minka spins in my arms. “It’s too early for this talk.”

“Women don’t need protection, except, predominantly, from men. And even then, there are ways to make them as strong and skilled as, if not stronger or more skilled, than their hunter. It’s not about feminism, Cato. And it’s not about weaponizing a word that has become a catchphrase for both sides of a coin in a war between the sexes. It’s about not being abused by another human being.”

“Women hurt women too!”

“Yes. They do. But that’s not what this conversation is about. You’re talking about my best friend and your brother. No matter his feelings surrounding a relationship with her, that relationship doesn’t exist without her consent.”

“I would make it exist.” Taunting, Cato plops back onto the arm of the couch, but shoots a leering look over his shoulder. “If I meet the woman I’m supposed to love, and she’s a little… uncooperative about the subject, then if I think it’s in her own best interests to be protected by, and potentially in a relationship with me, then that’s how it’s gonna go.”

“Said every serial killer in the history of the world.” Minka sets her coffee on the counter and dips out of my hold to go to the fridge. She snags the creamer, so my mind instantly jumps to ‘told you so’, but then she walks back and pours a dollop into the mug still under the spout.

Mine.

“Caffeine.” She pushes to her toes and presses a kiss to the center of my lips. “Something tells me you’re gonna need it today.” Then she turns to Cato and smirks. “There will never come a moment in our future, when you bring a woman home to meet us, where I won’t take her aside and ask if she feels safe. If she needs an escape, I’ll be the one helping her. And if she even hints at abuse, then the Malone machine is gonna have to resurrect your bastard father so he can make another son. Because the authorities won’t find your body once I’m done with it.”

Stunned, his emerald eyes swing to mine. “You hear that threat?”

I bring my coffee up and sip. “Mmhm.”

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