Page 71 of Stitches

“Sin is there. I can’t allow it.” Church looked to the ceiling and groaned. “Why the fuck is stupid shit like this always happening? Haven’t we endured enough in our lives?”

We were all quiet for a long time.

Finally, I spoke.

“The truth of the matter is, this all ties together. If Sirena is there, she will be able to make a better decision on what she wants. She’ll get to know Sin.”

“Fuck him,” Church shouted.

“I know you’re mad. I know you’re hurt,” I said softly. “We all are. But what if we could have it all? Our brother back. Our girl. The fucking world we’ve been fighting. Our enemies dead and our lives safe once and for all? Revenge, Dante. You’ve wanted it forever. It’s here. Let’s just fucking take the steps to have it. Your mom—”

He let out a snarl and stormed from the room without another word, leaving me to sigh and Ashes to flip his lighter open and closed again. Five times. Just like always.

“He’ll come around,” Ashes said. “He loves her. We all do. I know what you mean, and I’m on your side.”

“You are?”

He nodded and closed his lighter. “I am. I know what Everett is capable of. We’ve discussed it. As much as I don’t want to let Sirena go, if it could make her stronger—make us stronger—then fuck yes. Let’s do it.”

“We just need to convince Dante,” I murmured.

Ashes nodded slowly. “He’ll come around. Something will happen and he’ll be forced to.”

That was probably the case, but that something that would happen wasn’t something I looked forward to, especially if Everett was part of it.

CHURCH

Aweek after Stitches’s suggestion of letting Sirena go to Asylum and I was still pissed off. I knew he meant well, but I couldn’t help but be worried just the same. This was a guy who tried to kill himself after hearing she was won by that prick Asylum.

Something wasn’t adding up. I could understand his concern, but not to this extreme. Especially knowing Sin would be with Asylum. I’d taken into consideration what he’d said about Sin bringing Sirena home to us, and that may have softened me a bit, but Sin was still a cocksucker as far as I was concerned, and I’d certainly string him up again if given the chance.

Because I knew shit had gone down in the facility, shit that rendered me helpless because of my father’s involvement, I found myself sitting in one of the meeting rooms on campus, waiting to see the king of the Underground in the hopes of getting to the bottom of everything since Stitches wasn’t going to tell me and Sirena certainly wasn’t going to.

I hadn’t told the guys I’d called a meeting with my father. They’d have lost their minds. Instead, I’d gone ahead and done it on the down low, desperate to get things sorted. I wasn’t always the patient sort when it came to this, and I was fucking fed up with watching Stitches wander around drugged up and lost and my specter sad whenever she looked at him.

“Son,” Father greeted me as he came into the room.

I rose to my feet and took the hand he offered and allowed him the quick, one-armed hug that was his norm when he was in a good mood. Me calling this meeting must have put him there.

“Father,” I said, pulling away from him.

He gestured for me to sit. I did so back in the leather chair while he took a spot opposite of me in another one, the glass coffee table between us and a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of my son’s company?” he asked, raising his brows at me.

“I want to know what happened in the facility when Stitches was taken.”

He studied me for a moment before smirking. “I see. Is Stitches not doing well?”

“He’s doing well enough. He just won’t talk about it,” I said.

“Stitches is a good boy.” He got to his feet and went to the bar they kept in this dump and poured himself a drink. In retrospect, I should have poisoned it. Damn me for my late thinking.

He came back and handed me a glass and sat across from me while sipping his. I took a drink of mine, waiting for him to continue.

“You know, he was a debt owed to me,” he said after a moment. “His father, Maxwell Wolfe, owed for some gambling troubles he got into with Matteo De Santis. He’d tried to go to Sergio Ivanov to make back the money and ended up digging a deeper hole. His mother was indebted over her drug use. They came to me to help because you know how unpleasant it can be to be tangled up with De Santis and Ivanov.” He paused to drink. “Malachi has always been such a beautiful boy. I’ve always been drawn to the way he looks. How he thinks. The way he moves. Malachi is truly magic, don’t you think, Dante?”

I glared at him.

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