Page 160 of Sinful

“I asked you a question, specter. What are you doing?”

I searched his face, trying my damndest to get the words to come out, but they wouldn’t.

“You speak to Ashes by writing on his hand. You touch Stitches. You write notes to Sin. For me, you only stare. What am I doing wrong?” he murmured, his green eyes sweeping over my face.

I exhaled, wanting to tell him he pissed me off last night. That he scared me. That I didn’t like it.

“Say it,” he whispered. “All that anger I can see on your face. Say it to me. I want to hear it.”

I breathed out again, my jaw aching from clenching it. Closing my eyes, I thought about all the anger in my heart. All the despair. The fear. The sadness. The want. The need for revenge. To tell all of them how I felt without little notes and whispers. How I wanted Bryce and Asylum. And Mirage.

“Sirena,” Church called out softly.

I focused on the anger. It seemed to be an easier jumping-off point for me.

“You pissed me off,” I said, snapping my eyes open and staring up at him.

He nodded. “I know.”

“You hurt me. Scared me. I-I thought. . . I thought. . .” The words faltered on my lips before I closed my eyes briefly to gather myself before opening them and looking at him. “Aren’t you even a little sorry?”

He was quiet for a moment before he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I was raised to never apologize for who I am and what I do. I don’t know how to really feel those emotions. Sometimes, I think maybe I am sorry, but then I realize that being sorry and having guilt are two different emotions. Sometimes they conflict with one another.” He paused and thumbed my bottom lip. “But to answer your question, no. I’m not sorry. I feel nothing akin to either guilt or sorrow in regard to yesterday.”

I shook my head at him and turned away, disappointed with his answer.

He grabbed my arm and turned me to face him again.

“Let me finish,” he said. “I am not remorseful for my actions. Maybe it’s because they were needed. I knew you’d never tell me. Keeping secrets does bother me, Sirena. Especially in my own home. I know who I am. Do you know who you are?”

I frowned at his question and looked down at my feet. The truth was, I had no idea who I was. Inside my head was a mess. One moment, I was strong and brave. The next, I was terrified, and confused and hiding in the darkness.

“That day when you let that little bit of yourself out in our living room,” Church continued, tilting my chin up. “I saw you then. I caught a glimpse of the strong girl you keep hidden. I’d love the chance to meet her properly. I think that’s the girl who can speak and who doesn’t take my shit. She’s part of what makes you who you are. I love all the parts of you, but you only give us the little pieces while we scramble to get the whole girl.”

I swallowed. “E-even the b-broken pieces?”

“The broken pieces are my favorite part.” He brushed his lips against mine. “I’m not redeemable, Sirena. You know I’m not. This is me not only telling you who I am, but I’ve also shown you my monster. I want to see yours now.”

“I’m scared—”

He pressed his finger against my lips. “Fear is also a monster, baby. Don’t let it be yours. In this house, there is no fear. You’re a watcher’s girl now.Showthe world who the fuck you are if you can’t find the words. We’re your army in this dark kingdom. Whether you choose to believe it or not, you’re the ruler here.”

“I-I am?”

He nodded and ran his knuckles along my jaw. “How funny that you can’t see that. Whatever my queen wants is what she shall have.” He closed the space between us. “Tell me what you want, specter.My little Ghost.Tell me their names.I know there are more than four.”

My pulse roared in my ears when he pulled away from me, his green eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn’t quite place since I’d rarely seen it on his face.

“You call the shots. Just don’t get carried away.”

I call the shots.

I choose.

“But for now, let me handle it until you’re ready. Deal?”

I licked my lips before holding my hand out to him. He smirked at me and brought his knife out.