Page 123 of Relentless Sinner

“You can make that sound again when I’m eating you out later.” He playfully brushes my inner thigh and I laugh.

“Where’s your chicken?”

He pushes his hair away from his face and sits next to me. “I’ll grab some in a minute.”

“Everything you’ve cooked tastes amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Thanks. Cooking is an art. You have to put emotion in it, so you create something wonderful.” Only he could describe it like that.

“Who taught you to cook so well? Was it… your mom?” I ask the question with caution because he never talks about his mother.

Jaxon gives me what could pass for a kind smile. “No. It was my brother. He was the cook in the family.”

“Your… brother? I didn’t know you…” I stop when I read the sad look in his eyes. At that moment, I realize I shouldn’t have asked. He just spoke about his brother in the past tense, as in he’s not here anymore.

“My brother, Jacob, died eight years ago. It was a car accident.” He releases a sad breath. “And I never knew my mother. She died giving birth to me.”

A stab of grief ripples across my heart, compressing my insides. I instantly feel bad. I really shouldn’t have brought up this topic.

Weeks ago when I asked about his mother and he told me about her art I never thought for one moment that he never had her in his life.

“I’m so sorry,” I mutter. “I didn’t know.” Eve never told me, but I understand why now. She wanted him to do it.

“I should have told you by now. It’s just hard to talk about.”

“Of course. I know… death.” I say that like I’m actually talking about someone I know.

“I know.”

At least I knew my mother. I had her in my world for fourteen years. He never knew his. Birthdays were a big deal to my mother. But his birthday will always be a sad day.

I reach out and take his hand. He holds mine, and we stare at each other for a moment in silence. Almost like we’re taking those few seconds to honor our lost loved ones.

“Jacob was the favorite.” Jaxon breaks the silence yet still maintains a reflective, reverent tone. “He was older than me by twelve years. He was supposed to be the Pakhan when my father retired. Things changed after he died. My father always adored him but hated me.”

“Hate?” He’s made it no secret that he and his father had a strained relationship. Buthateis such a strong word. I can’t imagine having a child and hating them.

“He blamed me for my mother’s death.”

“What?” I narrow my eyes and shake my head at the absurdity. “He blames you?How?”

“I was the boy who should never have been born. My mother knew she could die having me, but she wanted me so badly she had me anyway. My father hated me because I was the thing that killed his soul mate. Growing up with him was horrendous. Honestly, I don’t know how I survived his constant abuse. Now that he’s sick and dying, I’ve finally begun to understand him,but I will never understand his cruelty.”

It’s hard to imagine Jaxon allowing anyone to be cruel to him or hurt him. But he was a child. I know more than most that when you’re in a situation like that, you’re powerless.

“There is never an excuse for that kind of cruelty.”

“No. I’ve spent my life trying to find ways for my father to love me, I suppose. Eventually, it didn’t matter. Eventually, I just didn’t care anymore.”

Months ago when I listened to him speak about all his accomplishments, I felt he’d done it all for a something—orsomeone—more than himself. I was right.

I also don’t believe his father’s love doesn’t matter to him. I think that’s what he tells himself to make it make sense to him. I do the same with my father.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for you, too. For your mother.” He brings my hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I’m sorry your father was an asshole. At least I had Eric, who is more like a father to me than my own. He filled in for both my mother and father.”

“I know Eric means a lot to you.”

---