Page 104 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“I can’t speak to that, but as someone who cares about you, I would do whatever I could to keep that video from coming out.”

“So, the terms of this threat include breaking up with me? Pushing me out of his life? Pretending I never existed?”

I lean in and lower my voice. “I’m telling you all this because when I found out you were involved, I was extremely concerned.But I’m allowed to tell you what I’m about to because Gibson’s worried about what this could do to someone like Graham.”

Silas scoffs. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Look—he left that meeting the other day afraid your boyfriend was gonna hang himself.”

Silas rolls his eyes. “He would never.”

“Good. That’s good—because here’s what Marianne wants. She wants his bank account, and she also wants political favors. I mean—frankly, I can’t argue her politics, but the shit she wants him to do would ruin his career no matter what. And if that video comes out, heandyou are gonna be at the center of a huge scandal. I have to believe he’s trying to protect you the only way he can.”

A tear slips down Silas’s cheek. “Or he could own it. He could admit that he gives a shit about me and do what he actually believes in instead of what his family expects of him. He could take the fucking out and start over somewhere else. He’s an attorney for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he can’t take his law license and move upstate to live a nice little gay life, and have friends, and be out and happy. Leave politics.”

“Maybe he goes to Marianne with that, then,” I say.

Silas only scoffs. “Are you listening to me? That’s not what he wants. He wants to be the good son and the noble Republican conservative he was raised to be. He’s set to inherit. Whatever Avery takes from him now, he’ll get back whenever his dad dies, and the way that man lives, it’s just a matter of time.”

Silas’s words are angry and laced with pain. I get the feeling this isn’t the first time he’s said any of this. That it might even all be a rehash of what kept him up last night.

“That really sucks,” I say softly.

“I mean, at least I know where I stand on his priority list. Sucks to be wrong, yeah, but I guess I’m not surprised.”

“I’m surprised,” I tell him because sometimes it helps to know you aren’t the only fool.

Silas’s eyes close, and several more tears fall. This time he tries to wipe them away before blowing his nose into a napkin and crumpling it in his hand. The waitress arrives, and I nod for him to order something.

He finally does—a glass of red wine. I’m sticking with beer tonight. Tequila has been making me a little too rowdy lately. Although I have no plans to see Gibson later, if I start drinking, I can’t guarantee I won’t go looking for him in his club and make him do dirty things to me in front of people. Zero self-control when it comes to that man. Who knew I had a thing for suave billionaires?

I’m still not sure I can imagine being in a relationship with a man, but I’m definitely enjoying having sex with one.

Honestly, there’s not much about Gibson I don’t enjoy.

“You thought he’d pick me over his family?” Silas asks once the waitress leaves. “His massive inheritance? His senate seat?”

“I thought he’d try to figure something out. It’s not all black and white.”

“It is according to the Graham Lawther guide to good living. Anyway…I’m not gonna sit here and cry about it anymore. I’m too pissed off.”

“Moving through the stages of grief like a boss,” I joke before realizing it’s probably something Jericho would smack me for saying.

But it makes Silas smile. Sort of.

“Where are you planning to stay?” I ask.

“A hotel. For now. I’m good on money, so I’m not worried about that. At first he said he wanted me to stay in the apartment—like he was giving it to me or something, and then all of a sudden, he was all—no it’s better if you’re not here.”

I’m not sure if this helps or not, but I say, “I imagine it’s because you’ve been being watched.”

Silas flashes another dark look at me. “Right. So, you and Gibson Hayes, huh?”

“It’s not a thing,” I assure him. “I mean—it’s a thing, just not an important thing.”

“And his wife? Where’s your conscience now?”

“Their marriage is unconventional,” I say, without responding to the dig.

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