Page 6 of Boy of Ruin
I press my brow to hers as she backs herself against the couch.
I can smell her lavender scent and I inhale, my mouth inches from her own.
“You’re not a prisoner,” I tell her, angling my head so my lips are aligned with hers. “But you’re mine to look after.” I brush my mouth over hers and hear her sharp inhale. “Just let me.” I move one hand to her low belly, slipping my fingers beneath her shirt and splaying them against her soft skin, her rounded belly. “Let me do my fucking job.”
Her eyes are searching mine, wide and open, as if she’s considering it. As if, for once, she doesn’t hate me. She isn’t just here for protection from the fucking cult and her fucking psychotic husband who she ran from. As if she might...love me.
I run my mouth over hers again, my fingers digging into her skin. She parts her lips but doesn’t kiss me back and I think about grabbing her chin and forcing her to do just that when I hear footsteps at my back.
I curse under my breath and reluctantly pull away from her as I straighten, turning my back to Sid and blocking her from view.
Nicolas comes into the living room, his blond hair damp, black shirt clinging to his lean frame. He opens his mouth then closes it as his eyes drift from me to Sid, then back again. There’s a furrow between his brow as he puts his palms together and clears his throat.
I hear more footsteps down the hall that leads toward the downstairs entrance, and more men file in behind Nicolas, all dressed in black and armed with flashlights and weapons.
Arching a brow in a silent question, I look back to Nicolas, trying not to think about the muddy footprints in my house, even though it makes me feel physically ill.
It’s why I have house staff, I remind myself. They’ll deal with it.
“We searched the forest,” Nicolas says, glancing toward Sid at my back, then down at the floor. He clears his fucking throat again and I want to slit it because I’m running out of patience. It was only a matter of time before he came looking for her. “We checked all of the cameras, including the ones you’ve been watching her from.”
I hear Sid snap my name at my back, as if she thought I didn’t know about her little midnight runs. As if she thought those cameras were décor.
Silly girl.
“And?” I press, ignoring her and clasping my hands behind my back.
Nicolas brings his dark eyes to mine and I feel my stomach flip with that look. Like he’s trying to tell me something without words.
Like he’s trying to tell me that my sister is insane.
“There was nothing out there.”
* * *
I inhale from my joint on the back deck, looking off into the darkness of the forest. Three in the morning, the sun hasn’t yet risen.
The air is hot, humid with the storm now passed.
I exhale through my nose and grind the rest of the joint against the wooden railing, pocketing it to throw away inside the house. I keep my left hand in my pocket, clenched into a fist.
The marijuana is the only thing that stops the tremors. Never for long enough, but it helps. If only it took away the memories too.
I clench my teeth together with that thought, pushing it back along with all the other nightmares of my childhood.
There’s no use feeling sorry for myself over them. I’m glad I had to claw my way out of that goddamned cage. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Someone respected. Fucking feared.
The man Sid Rain runs to when she needs real protection.
The 6 won’t come for her here. The Unsaints are a fucking joke, and in this little pocket of Alexandria, an hour from the downtown core, our home surrounded by forest on all sides, she’s safe.
Safe.
I hear the sliding glass door at my back and tense, standing up straighter, sliding my other hand into my pocket. I don’t turn around, because I can tell by the slow, heavy footsteps it’s Nicolas.
His birthday is tomorrow, and I’m throwing a party. I don’t give a fuck about birthdays and I don’t like parties, but I want to try a different tactic with Sid.
I’ve been nothing but nice to her since she’s been here.
