Page 4 of Sin

Mercer immediately follows his command and bolts out the door. “Hurry,” Sin yells.

My breathing starts making a high-pitched, reedy sound. Sin stalks over to me, takes me by the shoulders, makes eye contact, and calls my name. A memory of three years ago filters through my panicked mind. Sin had been there through that asthma attack as well.

“Cassidy,” he repeats, but I’m having a hard time focusing on him.

“Cassidy, you bitch, look at me,” he shakes me hard by my shoulders. “You’re not gonna die on my watch, so fucking look at me, and do what I goddamned tell you.”

I fight to understand his words, but I feel like my head is in a jar and every word is a meaningless echo of sound.

“Purse your lips,” he demands.

I try. I want to do as he says so badly. I want to make him happy with me. To be rewarded with one of the easy smiles he used to give me so freely, but the room starts whirling, and I sway on my feet.

“Fuck.” He catches me and pulls us toward my bed, laying me across his lap. Ripping my Rocky and Bullwinkle t-shirt over my head, he flings it to the floor and lays his hand over my heart, which I can feel beating like a misfiring engine thanks to the lack of oxygen. He places his other hand on my stomach right under my rib cage.

“Take a deep breath,” he orders.

I can’t even manage to breathe in a whisper of air.

“Goddamnit,” Sin curses. He curls his fingers into a tight fist and punches me hard in the sternum.

Pain explodes in my chest, and I gasp in reaction, rewarding me with a full breath of sweet oxygen.

“That’s right. I fucking knew you could do it,” he says. “Now, take another deep breath or I’ll hit you again, and this one,” he promises fiercely, “I’ll make really hurt.”

Our complicated past has taught me he won’t hesitate to hurt me. My body believes it too. It reacts by taking a slow, faltering breath in reaction to his threat.

“You’re doing good, Cassidy,” he tells me, his praise filling me with a soft, shimmery pleasure. “Now exhale through your mouth nice and slow,” he says, his hand caressing the smooth skin of my stomach as I release each breath. “Now do it again,” he orders.

He has me repeat the breathing exercise four times by the time Mercer comes running back through the door.

“About fucking time,” he bitches, and grabs the inhaler and puts it to my mouth. “Take a deep breath and hold it,” he tells me. I follow his instructions, and within seconds, I begin to breathe more easily.

Afterwards, I stay in his arms as my breathing and heartbeat slowly return to normal. I have that one-too-many rides on the Tilt-a-Whirl feeling I get after an attack, and instinctively shift my body so I can burrow my head into Sin’s neck. His hand remains clutched over my heart, while the other one absently runs through my curls.

It's not just our bodies that are connected. There’s that unexplainable sense of belonging I always feel whenever I’m near him. I know it won’t last. That he’ll eventually push me away, but for now, everything else fades around me. In this moment, I am where I most want to be.

Until Mercer ruins it. “It’s a damned good thing you had an extra inhaler,” he says to Sin. “The kid wasn’t looking so good. He coulda died.”

At Mercer’s words, I feel Sin’s entire body tense, and almost instantly, he pulls away from me and jumps up to stand over me, his face drawn tight and his eyes glittering with fury. “Yeah, about that. Why in the fuck didn’t you have your inhaler?”

I wince at the blast of his fury. “I did,” I say weakly, pointing a shaky finger toward the bureau where my small pile of inhalers litters the surface. “None of them worked.”

He stalks over to the bureau and picks up each inhaler and examines it. “You’re right. They’re all empty.” He looks back up at me. “How old are these?”

“Mom sent them to me last week,” I choke out, my voice still reedy and not as full as I’d like it to be.

It doesn’t seem like he’s satisfied with the answer. “Why in the hell are you even here anyway?” he interrogates me. “It’s the start of the semester. You aren’t supposed to be back in Tennessee until after your birthday.”

Surprised he even remembers my birthday, I fill him in on my relocation back to Nashville. “I graduated early from Bellmore, and Gideon wants me to attend college at Thurston.”

His reaction is immediate. His eyes flare with anger, and his lips form into a thin, stubborn line. “That’s not going to happen. There’s no way you’re living here.”

Words from our shared past come back to me.I never wanted a stepbrother, and I never wanted you.

Exhaustion overtakes me, and the idea of explaining to Sin how his father had hijacked my college plans seems like a mountain I’m not ready to climb. I close my eyes and rest back on my pillow for a minute to gather my strength.

“Jesus, Sin, give your brother a break,” Mercer says. “Save the inquisition until he’s feeling better.”

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