Page 91 of Sinful

“Yes. It is,” he said softly. “But that’s my burden to carry.”

“You were only trying to help her career.”

He grunted and looked down, rubbing his jaw. “I should’ve told you I knew him back in the day. But I didn’t know how to talk about it. The older you got, the more I thought about telling you, but then I also felt guilty for keeping it from you for so long. That put me off telling you, time and time again.”

“I get it.”

“The police were always aware of the old friendship, though. It was deemed irrelevant because there wasn’t any apparent connection between that and your mother’s murder, apart from the fact that my name got her through the door, as I said.” He paused and slowly shook his head. “I really do worry about you, Sebastian. Those people are very dangerous. I don’t think you should go back up there again.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, head shaking. Then his eyes flickered over to the muted TV playing on the wall opposite the bed. “Christ, that oil spill is awful. Four days on and that tanker isstillspewing all that toxic garbage into the Gulf.”

“Huh?” I snapped my attention to the news story on the TV. “Didn’t that only just happen?”

Dad frowned. “No, it sank several days ago. Terrible business.”

I sat up straight, ignoring the jolt of pain that shot through my left shoulder. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days.”

My eyes widened. “What the fuck?”

“Three and a half, if we’re being precise,” he said, tilting his head. “What did you expect? You were severely injured. You needed time to rest.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered, fumbling with the drip cannula on the back of my hand. Rose had been locked away for nearly four days now, with only water from the tap to fill her stomach. She would be weak and starving. Wasting away.

“Sebastian, what the hell are you doing?” Dad asked, looking thunderstruck all over again as he watched me tug the needle out of my hand.

“I have to go.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, resting one hand on the edge to steady myself. “Where’s my stuff?”

He abruptly rose to his feet. “You can’t leave. You need to rest!”

“Sorry, Dad. Emergency. Did you bring me any spare clothes?”

“You’re really going to walk out of here right now?”

“Yup.”

He sighed and rubbed his temples, presumably realizing there was nothing he could say or do to change my mind. “There’s a bag over by the corner,” he said. “There’s clothes and shoes in it. Your keys, phones, and wallet are in the drawer next to it. By the way, why on earth do you have two phones?”

“Long story.”

He let out another sigh. “I’ll stay here and take care of the discharge paperwork,” he said, voice dripping with irritation. “I’ll probably have to sign about a million things absolving them of responsibility if you keel over and die in the next few hours.”

“Not gonna happen.” I quickly dressed before stooping to grab my stuff from the drawer along with the Covenant charm. As soon as I picked up my keys, I realized I had a problem. My car was still parked at the rest stop near Alderwood.

I glanced over at my father. “Is there still a car hire place near here?”

“Yes. Just across the road,” he said stiffly. His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “I honestly can’t believe you’re leaving. You haven’t healed yet. You should be here for another two days at the very least.”

“I told you, it’s an emergency. Thanks for taking care of the paperwork.”

He muttered something under his breath as I hurried out of the room, but I didn’t stop to find out what it was. Probably something about me being a reckless idiot.

That was fine with me. It wasn’t like I could turn around and tell him the exact reason I had to leave.Oh, I just have to go and feed the prisoner I’ve been keeping for the last couple of weeks!That’d go down like a fucking lead balloon.

After I’d picked up a car from the hire place, I sped out of the lot and turned onto the main road leading out of town. My phone rang on my lap a few seconds later. Gritting my teeth, I hit the speakerphone button. “Dad, I’m fine, okay? I’ll—”

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