Page 56 of Sinful Justice

“Yes.” She sips her coffee and grins behind the lip of her mug. “It’s something I do on the job, too. I find, nine times out of ten, I’m right on the money with freakish accuracy. Do you still attend therapy because of your traumatic high school experience?”

I bark out a laugh loud enough to draw Kiera’s eye all the way from the front of the restaurant. Leaning forward, I lower my voice; a tactic I know will bring Minka closer to me. “I do, actually, have a therapist on speed dial. And we often discuss my formative years. But everything else…” I wink and sit back, “wrong.”

“Wrong?” Her eyes narrow. “What was I wrong about?”

“I’m your one out of ten,Minnnnka. I grew up in a non-traditional situation. My father had money. Multiple vacation homes type of money. Staff. Drivers. I was never hungry, and I always had the slickest brands when it came to shoes and clothes. I never had to try to be a bad boy. I was bred to be bad.” I lean closer and whisper, “I killed someone when I was eleven.”

I take pleasure in the way her cheeks pale.

“And I killed another when I was thirteen. My father rewarded me, and the police turned a blind eye, because they were all on the same side. I had this girlfriend when I was sixteen…” A girl my heart still aches for—not because I love her, but because I grieve for the life she should have had. “I walked in on a guy I considered a friend hurting her.”

I tilt my head to the right and study Minka’s soulful eyes. “I thought he and I were one and the same, but he took from her when she said no. He took and took and took, so I took a fucking pipe wrench and laid his gray matter out across the grass.”

I sit back again when Kiera places Minka’s eggs down on the table in front of her, and a bowl of cereal for me. It’s the healthy cereal, the kind that keeps a man regular and going through the day.

The moment she’s gone and Minka’s cheeks remain colorless, her eyes searching mine, I press the tip of my finger to the edge of her plate and slide it closer. “He was my third kill, but his wasn’t sanctioned by my father, so I was punished.” Shaking my head now, I pick up my spoon and dip it in my cereal. “Punished so bad, his men dumped me in a shallow grave and walked away.”

“Oh my god.” She brings shaking fingers to her lips. “Are you… what?”

“My father bred me to become a soldier for his organization. He bred my brothers to be the same.”

“You have brothers?” Her voice breaks.

“Eat.” I reach out and push her plate another inch closer. “I won’t tell you any more unless you eat. You’re too pale.”

“I’m pale because I think I slept with the mafia.”

Sniggering, I pick up a slice of her toast and offer a corner. “Eat, and I’ll confirm if you’re already dead or married.”

“Not funny.” Snatching the toast, she takes a violent bite and narrows her eyes. “This is all a made-up story, right? You’re teasing me because you’re mad I don’t like you.”

“You like me, Minka. You’re just too proud to admit it. And no,” I go back to my own meal, “I didn’t make this up. It’s my life.”

“You killed people!” she hisses. “Archer, you’re admitting to three counts of murder.”

“Ironic,” I smirk, “considering my line of work now. I was bred for the first two and far too young to know better. Anyone could argue that in court and get me off without prison time. The third, I did know better, and still, I did it on purpose. There isn’t a part of me, even to this day, that regrets my actions.”

“You killed people.”

“I did. But now…” My jaw hardens when I think of the words of that girl from the twenty-four-hour store.Whoever killed Dowel was a hero. “I seek justice for those who are dead, Minka, but I do it with a badge and not a pipe wrench. I do it with the law, and then I track down the types who consider themselves heroes.”

“What about your father?” Her words come quieter now. I wouldn’t say she’s scared, but she’s smart enough to understand the danger. “Where is he? And your mother?”

“My father still lives.” The irony I’ve held at bay finally comes out on a chuckle. “Maybe Copeland is where New Yorkers come tocope. To escape the craziness and find something fresh and new.”

“You’re from New York?” Her breath comes out on a gentle exhale. “Really?”

“Really. And my mother…” I lose my smile and glance down. “She was just one of a dozen or more. I have four brothers. We all share the same father, but none of us share the same mother. And not one of us has a mother to call when we want to speak to her.”

“Your father hurts them?”

“It’s the life they step into when they go to bed with someone like him.” I reach across the table and guide Minka’s toast closer to her mouth. “I’m the second youngest of us all, but three of them are still back in New York.”

“Is your… is the other one here too?”

“Mm.” I dip my spoon into my cereal and scoop a mouthful past my lips. “He owns a bar and was engaged recently. Sucks for him, because the woman he lost is kinda fucking hot.”

“Tim!”

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