Page 63 of Deliver us from Evil

Only a cold-hearted bitch would hold a grudge against someone who sacrificed themselves for her.

“I forgive you, Zachary. And I need you too.” I look up at his three brothers, and my next words come easy, because I’ve never spoken truer ones in my life.

“We all need you.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Trinity

SIX MONTHS LATER

Water laps against the side of the infinity pool, merging seamlessly with the nearby ocean. It splashes against my body as I slap my arms down on the cool tiles beside the pool. I shiver at the contrast between warm and cold, and almost slip back into the heated water when a pair of bare feet pad into view.

I tilt my head back, blinking water from my eyes as I stare up at Cass.

“Water’s perfect,” I tell him.

But he just keeps standing there, watching me. If it was any other guy, it would have been creepy as all hell. But it’s Cass, and with those stunning blue eyes staring at me, it just makes me feel like I’m melting inside.

“Are you getting in, or you just going to keep gawking?”

“Rube wants to see you,” he says.

I stop paddling my feet, sinking a little lower into the water as a chill races through me. “Now? But—”

“No buts.” He crouches beside the pool, his swimming shorts hiking up his legs. He’s put on muscle in the last few months. Everyone except Apollo has, who flat out refuses to use our mansion’s built-in gym for anything more than some light cardio when it rains longer than a day. “You promised.”

“Yeah, bu—” I cut off, pressing my lips together. “God.Now?”

“Now, my blasphemous little slut,” he says with a rueful grin.

I give him a half-smile, and let him haul me out of the water. His eyes rake over my body, taking in every curve. In the past, I’d have wanted to snatch up a towel and cover myself.

But the Brotherhood have taught me a lot of things. Being proud of my body is one of them.

How can I hate something they worship?

Cass leads me back inside the house, but not before we both glance back at the view. The crests of the waves are barely visible—fluffy white lines that chase each other across the pale shore. At night, the ocean sighs like a sleeping beast, and I’ve fallen in love with it as much as I have with them.

Allof them.

The ground floor of the mansion is built for entertaining, but we’ve never had any guests. What we have is too special. Too unique. People would ask too many questions. Or they wouldn’t understand, and try to become part of something they’re not.

Cass veers off into the kitchen, and I pause at the foot of the broad, open stairs that sweep up to the first floor. “What are you doing?”

He comes back a second later with strawberries and a bottle of champagne. “Hungry,” he lies.

“Bribing me won’t work,” I tell him, grabbing a strawberry off the tray and popping it in my mouth as we start up. “But I do commend your efforts.”

He chuckles at that, but not as enthusiastically as he usually would.

My steps become slower the higher we go up. And then almost stop when I can see over the landing.

They’re all there. Congregating. Waiting for me.

The second floor is reserved for the bedrooms, and the mini-theater with its massive TV and an assortment of day beds and recliners. My men spend a lot of time up here, watching movies, sports, reality shows. Soaking up the world they missed the last decade and a half.

Sometimes I join them. But most of the time I’m curled up on the window seat nearby, working through the pile of books beside it.

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