Page 30 of Sinner
With a solid plan in his head, he felt better. Less chaotic.
Stealthily, they unbuckled the children one by one from the car and placed them on the beds. It was hard not to watch the children’s faces as they slept. Warmth rushed his chest when two of the younger children cuddled each other like stuffed toys. Another clutched his shirt like he were a lifeline and a fierce surge of protection overcame him. Awestruck at their innocence, he thought, for once in his life he’d done good.They’ddone good. He had to put aside his guilt for the one who didn’t make it and focus on the seven that were saved.
Because of him and Mary, seven children would have a better life.
They would have a life, period.
Mary heated formula and fed the newborn with a look of wonder as she nursed the infant back to sleep.
Flint smiled. He’d been right when he told her she wasn’t capable of killing children. Just seeing the way she gently handled the baby reinforced that. She was still wounded, but put the child’s needs before her own, and in his eyes, that made her the best mother they could have. He was glad she’d be in their lives.
He settled the rest of their belongings inside, but kept one eye on Mary. The stone soldier had dissipated, and he caught her humming as she paced the length of the floor in front of the beds, quietly patting the baby in her arms. When she didn’t think Flint was watching, she buried her face in the baby’s neck and inhaled deeply. Her eyes were glistening when she pulled away, and then checked on each of the sleeping children, tucking them in tightly with one hand. She’d removed the boxing-tape from her hands while in the van. He noticed her knuckles then. They were purple and bruised.
He pursed his lips and, to Mary’s surprise, he took the baby out of her arms. Envy was asleep, milk drunk and snoring softly. It was so adorable that Flint almost kept rocking the baby in his arms.
“How do they do that?” he whispered.
“Do what?” she replied, touching Envy’s chin.
“Entrap you, just by being there. I can’t stop looking at him.”
“Because they are special. Important. They are the hope of the world.”
Mary met his gaze and, for a moment, they shared an inescapable connection. The Mary he loved was in there, then her expression shuttered as though she were trying to protect her heart. But he’d seen it. He’d seen the love she was capable of.
He placed the baby gently in the bassinet and then guided Mary into the small bathroom. She still looked shocked as he shut the door behind them.
The room was tiny. A white bath with a shower and a floral curtain. White toilet. Single white vanity with a counter on either side of the basin and a mirror over it. Nothing special, but clean with fresh towels. He slipped a hand towel off the rack and turned the faucet. Once the towel was wet, he wrung it out.
“All right. Let’s see that wound.”
Mary flinched. “I can sort myself out. In fact, your job is done. You’ve been paid, you can leave now. I can get them to the Sisterhood myself. Thank you.”
She took the wet towel out of his hands and turned to the mirror to see her wound. He stood behind her, watching her reflection ignore him.
The fuck?
Everything got real quiet. No sounds except the drip of the faucet and their soft steady breathing.
“Have I done something wrong?” Flint asked quietly, catching her eyes in the mirror.
The haggard look she returned sent all sorts of mixed messages running through his body. She’d shut down. Or had he really been part of the mission all along?
No. He refused to believe that. Their kiss had told him otherwise.
She’d told him once that her parents didn’t want her, that she was an orphan. He wasn’t going to quit on her like her parents. “Mary.”
“I saw the look you gave me in the car, Flint. That’s okay. I’m not sorry about what I did to save those children. I’m not sorry I asked you to leave Biolum Industries with me.” She inhaled deeply, broke eye contact and craned her neck to view her shoulder wound. She tried prying the frayed fabric away.
Good luck with that. The wound was behind two layers of clothing. A shirt and a woolen vest. He arched an eyebrow. She wanted to play woe is me, then fine. He’d watch her squirm.
“And exactly how was it that I looked at you, because, unless it’s with awe, then it’s news to me.” He folded his arms.
Her eyes widened, lashes lifting to expose stunning dark irises, then she glanced down at her shirt. “Do you mind? I have to undress.”
“So undress.”
He enjoyed the blush staining her cheeks despite the irritation swimming in her eyes. Didn’t matter. That dull, distant woman he’d driven here was gone. From the moment she’d smelled the baby’s sweet scent of innocence, Mary had returned to him. Flint had seen her physically unwind, the tension leaving her shoulders, the frown lines smooth from her face. Her love had been there before she’d locked it away, and he was determined to bring it back.
