Page 22 of Saint's Sinner

His old man’s tone was typical for when he was fed up with something, which meant Sinn had heard it often as a kid. Something clanked, then splashed, as wood scraped against wood. His old man knocking something over as he stood was themost likely cause. “I’m mighty sick of your shit! If you weren’t my kid, I’d drive you to the state line and kick you over it.”

“Then consider me disowned and get it over with so I can go back home.”

“This is home!”

“No, thiswashome,” Sinn said, shoving his plate away as he jumped to his feet as well.

Things fell over and that was good, ‘cause this little sham of a family dinner needed to be over and done with. He couldn’t imagine the grief Saint was going through, or what the club was doing to try to track him down. If they wound up in jail, or worse, over bullshit that his family instigated, he was never going to forgive anyone in this room.

“You better watch your tone boy. Show your folks some respect,” His gramps demanded.

“Where’s their respect for me! Or my choices! Or the people I love!”

There was a brief moment of silence, then his mother spoke in that low, pleased, content as a cat with a bowl of cream voice of hers and Sinn wanted to smack himself for giving up even that much. “Must be a hell of a guy to get you using that word.”

“He is and I’d like to get back there before he lands in a jailcell tryin’ to find me.”

“If he’d kept a better hold on you that wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Unlike you guys, he doesn’t try to wrap me in bubble wrap and duct tape me to a chair.”

“If he had, he wouldn’t be out looking for you.”

“He’s out looking for me because you people are fuckin’ psychos!”

“Don’t you cuss at the table boy!” his grandfather thundered, the table rattling from where he smacked it with his hand.

“Oh my god, Gramps, do you hear yourself right now. You are telling me not to curse after you hired people to kidnap meand drag me over state lines. You know that’s a federal offense right? You do get that there are laws against shit like that.”

“What have those laws ever done for us besides get in the way of how we make our money?”

Sinn pressed his fingertips to both sides of his head and rubbed. He knew the argument. It had been the same since he was old enough to understand that there were all kinds of ways to get what you wanted when you wanted it. Understanding the legality of it all, or lack thereof, was something that had come much later. “Just let me call him and explain that I’m visiting family. At least then he won’t have to worry.”

“Oh, honey, you just don’t get it do you?” His mom said, just as casual as could be. Only someone who knew her well, family, would detect the hint of malice in her voice. “We want him to worry. We want him to look for you. If he loves you like you claim to love him, then he’ll find you.”

“And if he doesn’t, you’ll know the truth,” his grandfather said. “Maybe then you’ll be content to stay right here where you belong.”

“This is not a game. This is my life your fuckin’ with.”

“What’s wrong sugar, you worried he’ll give up? Think you’re too much trouble? Decide to find someone whole he don’t have to worry so much about?”

He swept his arm wide, wanting to do as much damage to the table setting as possible. It was a satisfying feeling when the sound of things breaking reached his ears.

“Saint’ll never give up,” he growled. “And the only other person he’ll have is the one we choose together.”

“You only think that, you don’t know….”

Sinn managed to find something else to knock onto the floor. Too bad it wasn’t fragile. It just hit with the kind of thud that left Sinn with the impression that it was hollow. “I knowit with every fiber of my being! You’ll know it too, when he smashes in the door and lays waste to this place and all of you.”

“When’d you get so bloodthirsty, boy?” his old man asked. Sinn could hear him smacking away on the food in his mouth, completely unphased by the upheaval taking place around him.

“I’ve always been this way, but you refused to see it!” Sinn replied. “Just ‘cause I was losing my eyesight doesn’t mean I was any less a member of this family. I’d have been a valuable member of the club too if you’d ever given me the chance. I could have patched in before I lost my vision completely, but no, you wouldn’t even give me the option to do that.”

“Because it’s no kind of life for you,” His mother insisted. “You’d always be a liability to whoever….”

Sinn wished he hadn’t smacked his knife off the table. He’d have liked to stab it into the meat and give them a taste of exactly what kind of damage he had the capacity to mete out. “Now we’re getting to the truth. What you all really think about me. That I’m weak. That our enemies could use me to get back at the club. None of this was ever about me, was it? It was about protecting the club. Well guess what, the club was more protected with me gone than with you guys dragging me back here like a puppy on a leash.”

Through his tirade, his father’s fork and knife continued scraping the plate. He was the only one still focused on the meal, his voice more bored than annoyed when he spoke. “If I were you, I’d watch my tone before I’m tempted to give you a reminder of what we do to naughty puppies around here.”

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