Page 32 of By Sin To Atone

That did not go as planned.

The lock on the bathroom door clicks behind me. I would expect no less. I hear the shower switch on as I walk out of the bedroom, one of the spare rooms in Carlton Bishop’s massive house, and lock the door behind me. She doesn’t run after me calling out or banging on the door, demanding release, but I don’t expect that. Not after that exchange. She’s in there licking her wounds. It’s what I wanted. To make her heel. And I achieved my goal. I need to keep her under control. What I didn’t expect was to lose control. Which I did.

I stop in the hallway and force a deep breath in.

She was right. I do like looking at her. I can’t quite put my finger on why. She’s attractive, yes, but so are many other women. Women I have easy access to. Women I can do what I please with and walk away from. The Cat House alone is full of them. So, what the fuck is my problem? Why did I let her get to me?

I need to keep my head on straight. Blue has evidence that can destroy me and my brother in the process. What just happened needed to happen. She needs to understand that she cannot cross a man like me. I’m doing the only thing I can do.

Guilt gnaws at me as I force myself to continue down the hall. Her sister is mentally damaged. I don’t like the idea of using her. It doesn’t feel right.

When I get downstairs, Dex walks in the front door carrying a suitcase.

“Ezekiel,” he says in greeting. “Morning.”

“Morning,” I say. It’s not that I dislike Dex. I don’t feel either way about him. He is my brother’s trusted right-hand man. If I’m honest, I may be a little jealous of that as idiotic as it sounds.

“All good here?” he asks, handing me the keys to the Range Rover. It’s my car and I’ve kept it at the house while I’ve been in Amsterdam.

“All good.” I hand him the key to Blue’s bedroom. “That’s from Isabelle?” I gesture to the suitcase.

He nods. “Everything you asked for.” I asked Jericho to send some of Isabelle’s clothes for Blue. They’re about the same size.

“And then some,” I say, having expected a few things. “Put them in her room, will you? She’s having a shower.”

Dex nods. “Jericho’s sending Cynthia over too.” Cynthia worked as part of the household staff while Jericho was away. “She’ll be here soon.”

“Good.” I walk into the kitchen where I find Blue’s purse on the counter. I’d already emptied out its contents but found nothing interesting. I pick up the ring of keys.

“Thanks. I’m heading to the apartment. I’ll be back in a couple hours.” I walk out the door and into the SUV. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed a lot of things these last few years.

Once Jericho and Isabelle’s relationship shifted and the Bishop threat was removed, it was time for me to leave the St. James house, my childhood home, that I’d been living in all those years Jericho was hiding Angelique. Strangely, although leaving numbed some of the pain of the past, being away also has forced me to focus on it from a different angle.

The thing with Zoë, what happened with her, to her, what she did when she could no longer cope, all that pain is still there, has been all along. Somehow, I was able to mask it throughout those years. Maybe it was my mother’s illness, maybe it was my brother and his secrecy around his daughter’s existence. Maybe it was keeping up appearances, who the fuck knows? There was enough to occupy my mind that I could bury my own shit.

That all changed when Isabelle moved into the house and maybe it had to do with my brother finding happiness. Maybe it was that that pushed me out because all of a sudden, all those things I’d buried deep were right there, confronting me at every fucking turn of every fucking corner. Zoë’s face. Memories of her the last years of her life. Not during the happy times, though. I seem to only remember the bad. The sad. Guilt, maybe, remembering her wasting away before my eyes and me just fucking missing it.

And there are the memories of our father, of course. The things he did to us. Mostly to her, I know now.

My mind shifts to what I learned from Robbie about Blue’s father. The damage he did to her and her sister. What is it with fathers? Aren’t they supposed to protect their daughters? There are enough monsters in the world without having to be attacked in your own home by a man who should protect you, aren’t there?

That sensation of my throat closing up, all that old emotion, the damage I’d been able to keep buried for so many years, it’s back. Like it was toward the end of my time there. I close my eyes, force in a deep breath, tell myself to focus.

Amsterdam has helped, at least a little. I don’t see Zoë’s face at every turn. She was never there. My failure to protect my twin sister doesn’t fucking stare me in the face every fucking minute of the day there. But it’s not like I lived a life there either. I exist. What right do I have to live a life? How selfish for me to even consider it when she doesn’t get to be alive at all?

My cell phone rings as I drive off the property. I push a button to answer, and Jericho’s voice fills the car.

“Where are you?”

“I’m heading to Blue’s apartment to see what I can find. Thanks for the clothes, by the way.”

“I’ll pass that on to Isabelle.”

“You told her?”

“What was I going to do, go into her closet and take her clothes and hope she wouldn’t notice? Speaking of, you left things here too. Guessing you’ll need them. I’ll bring them by later. Since you’ll be spending more time here than you expected why don’t you come over? See the kids. You’re still Angelique’s favorite uncle.”

I chuckle. “Easy when you’re the only uncle. What was the manager’s name at Hotel Petterhof by the way?” I ask, changing the subject.

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