Page 3 of Wicked Sins

Brian purses his lips, his head tilting to the side. “We spoke about this,” he says quietly.

Sylvester moves away, and Brian’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “You know what I have to do, right?”

Briefly, I consider staring him down. He’d back off—he has before—but that would just land me in more shit. I nod at Brian, and he nods at me, squeezing my shoulder before releasing me. “Well, off you go.”

“I could use some study time—” I start.

“No can do, son.” Brian waves at one of the unoccupied corners in the lunchroom. “You know the rules.”

I’m surprised he can’t hear me grinding my teeth as I lurch away from him, grab a nearby chair, and drag it to the corner. I twist it around to face the wall and slump into it, crossing my arms and letting my mind wander as a stare at a knot in the wood.

Thankfully, lunch is almost over. But that means the air is wreathed with the combined smell of everyone’s lunch, the sweat that lingers on almost everyone this time of day out here where it’s close to a hundred by noon, and the faintest hint of horse shit floating in from the nearby stables.

What did I expect her to do? I’ve trained her to avoid me, tofearme. No mouse would pause long enough to see if the cat had reconsidered eating it.

Fuck, I miss Maple Ridge. I even miss football practice.

More than anything, I miss Emma.

I love her deeply, even when I resent her for having it so easy. I make sure to keep in contact with her, even now, here.

But our last conversation had been different.She’dbeen different. Maybe she was missing me. Maybe that massive house felt less like a home when I wasn’t there.

No, I’m imagining things again. Emma’sfine.

I should be concentrating on Candy.

That bitch is the reason I’m in this hell hole.

Candy took everything from me—my friends, my family, my budding football career.

I’ve never felt the need for revenge or vengeance till the day I met her. Now my thoughts are tinted red with rage. I make it my mission these days to turn her life into a living hell.

I won’t stop until she begs me for mercy.

And when that day comes, I won’t take her hand and help her up.

Not again.

Part One

Then

It’s impossible to have a proper sense of good and evil when the people you look up to most can’t even get it right.

Some people say we were lucky to lead the lives we did—we never went hungry; we always had a roof over our heads. Others, the ones who understand that survival is more than just a full belly and a dry bed, believe us when we say we were cursed.

Then you get the people who judge us. Who say morality is bred into the bone, and we both knew we’d be going to Hell.

That’s bullshit.

Good and evil don’t exist in a vacuum.

No one is born wicked. Immorality springs from the environment like spores. It doesn’t discriminate; it touches everyone.

In the right condition, those spores develop into mold. That mold spreads like cancer, and it’s just as difficult to eradicate.

Once it takes hold…sin contaminates everything.

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