Page 51 of By Sin To Atone

“You sure about that?”

“Password is FuckthePatriarchy. Capital F and P. No spaces. Robbie’s flight is landing in about an hour. He’ll come directly here.”

“And the gun?”

“Found it at her place. We should see if we can figure out who it’s registered to. If it’s registered, that is.” I check my watch. “I have to go.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Brother. I ask you again. What the hell are you doing?” When I don’t have an answer for him, he sighs. “If this has to do with Zoë, you know?—”

“Too late to have anything to do with Zoë, don’t you think?” I shrug off his hand.

“Zeke, I?—”

“I need to go.”

When I turn back to the SUV, I wish I’d closed the door because from the look on Blue’s face, I know she heard every word of that exchange. I get in and slam the door shut. I drive, feeling her gaze bore into the side of my head.

“You and your brother seem close,” she taunts.

“Shut up, Blue.”

“No, really, I got the warm fuzzies seeing you two together.”

I shoot her a warning look. “Shut. Up.”

“Who’s Zoë? Sounded like a sore spot?—”

I slam on the brakes just as we exit the gates and Blue jerks forward, yelping, gripping the dashboard as the seatbelt digs into her chest. At exactly the same moment I fling my arm out, my hand closing around her throat. It’s not even a conscious thought. It just happens.

“When I tell you to shut up, I mean it. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I spit the words, any composure is gone, my rage on full display.

Her hands wrap around my forearm, fingernails digging into skin as I squeeze her neck, watching how her eyes tear up. She makes a sound, a croaked plea, and a tear slides over her cheek. I watch it, hypnotized by its slow descent. Her nails break skin and I welcome the pain. It takes a moment before I meet her terrified gaze and force a deep breath in. It takes all I have to ease my grip, to release her. She exhales, clutches her throat and I find my thumb coming to that tear, smearing it, unable to look away.

She shudders, sucking in air, back of her head pressed firmly into the headrest.

More tears fall from her eyes, the whites, pink, making the blue even prettier somehow, and I watch her. I lose myself for a moment in the depths of those eyes. It seems it’s all I can do.

“You’re very pretty when you cry.” I don’t recognize my own voice, but I do hear how that sounds.

“You’re sick, you know that?” she mutters, wiping away the steadily streaming tears. “You’re fucking sick.”

“You have no idea.” I draw back, ease my foot off the brake.

17

Blue

I don’t know what the fuck that was in the SUV. Zoë is a sore spot and his relationship with his brother is fucked up, but those things aren’t my problem. I need to focus.

“I’ll be quick,” I say once we get to the apartment and Zeke parks. I open the passenger side door and climb out.

“I don’t think so,” Zeke says. He’s out of the SUV before I can slip away, taking hold of my arm as I try to scoot past him. We walk into the apartment building.

“I’m not going to run. I can’t without leaving my sister behind and I won’t do that,” I say as we walk up the stairs, his hand tight around my arm. He doesn’t comment as we climb the stairs to my floor. “Christ, are you trying to break my arm?” I ask when we get to the door. He must realize how tightly he’s holding on to me and releases me to dig my keys out of his pocket.

He unlocks the apartment door and opens it. It’s exactly as I’d left it, all the furniture that isn’t mine that will be here for the next tenant after I’m gone.

“Get what you need,” he says, checking the time.

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