Page 48 of Beautiful Sinners

Sarah lets go, and I about have a heart attack, thinking she’s falling, but she lands like a cat and scurries over to the woman, careening into her legs and knocking her off balance.

With the largest puppy dog eyes rife with emotional blackmail, Sarah looks up and puckers her mouth in a pout.

“I’m sowry.”

The woman laughs and musses Sarah’s curls. “No, you’re not.” Then to me, “I am so sorry if she bothered you. She has a knack for sneaking away from adult supervision. Thank God we can track her using the security system. Jax saw she accessed the elevator and came to your floor.”

Sarah scrambles up the woman’s leg and climbs her like a freaking jungle gym, then throws her arms around the woman’s neck and gives her a messy kiss on the cheek.

Chuckling, I reply, “No worries. She’s beautiful.”

The woman smiles, making her eyes crinkle, which draws my attention to them. They’re violet. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes the color of hers. Maybe she’s wearing contacts.

“Thanks. I’m Andie. You must be Aoife.”

“And I’m Sarah!” Sarah loudly pipes in, and Andie covers her mouth.

“Inside voice, baby girl.”

So, this is the infamous lady mobster with four husbands who’s my cousin. She’s gorgeous, friendly, adores Sarah, and is probably one of the most intimidating people I have ever met. The darkness inside of me recognizes the same in her.

Untangling the rubber band from what’s left of my braid, I smooth the wavy tresses down as much as I can and re-tie them into a ponytail. “Aoife or Syn. I’ll respond to either.”

Jostling Sarah on her hip, Andie looks me over, not concealing her critical perusal at all.

I freeze mid-step on my way to the kitchen when she says, “I hope whoever did that got what’s coming to them.”

She’s referring to the bruise on the side of my face where Aleksei hit me near the temple with the butt of his gun.

Not wanting to go there, I reply, “Yeah, he did.”

Speedwalking into the pantry, I scan the shelves for flour because I’m craving pancakes. It’s one of my comfort foods. Spying a yellow box of Bisquick, I grab it as well as a jar of molasses. When I come back out, Andie has Sarah settled on one of the bar stools with a box of crayons and paper.

“You and I are definitely related,” she says when she sees the jar of molasses I’m holding. “I can eat my weight in that delicious shit.”

“Bad word,” Sarah says as she draws but doesn’t demand that Andie pay her.

“It’s not bad if it’s used in a good way.”

Sarah takes full advantage of that and begins singing the ABC song, but instead of singing the letters, she gleefully replaces them with the word ‘shit.’

With a flamboyant eye roll, Andie hushes her.

“Give a precocious child an inch, and they will steamroll over you.”

“How old is she?” I ask as I start a cup of coffee brewing in the Keurig.

She sighs dramatically. “Four going on forty.”

It’s evident the love Andie has for Sarah, and vice versa. It reminds me a lot of Alana and me.

“You’re very good with her.”

“Thanks.”

I follow where Andie is looking up at the ceiling. There’s a blacked-out dome camera mounted in the corner. She makes hand signals behind Sarah, then blows a kiss. Weird.

Looking around, I don’t see any sweetener or sugar handy, so I resign to drink my coffee without it even though it’ll taste bitter.

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