Page 29 of Beautiful Sinners

We’re interrupted when the woman comes back, carrying two drinks, one ginger ale and one sparkling water that she sets down in front of Evan.

“Thank you, Candace.”

Her face blushes a deeper shade of pink as she leaves with a quiet, “You’re welcome.”

“She likes you.”

The ice clinks against the glass as he takes a sip of his drink, his eyes never straying from me. “Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

“Not interested?”

“Not in her, no.”

I down my ginger ale, needing it to help soothe my suddenly parched throat, and immediately regret it when my stomach protests.

“You okay? You look a little green.”

I place my empty glass down on the table. “Hate flying,” I manage to mutter.

Evan starts to say something else, but I talk right over him.

“I feel like I’m a pawn being used in some game I didn’t know I was playing, and if I don’t start getting some answers soon, you and Cillian are not going to like what happens next.”

His entire demeanor changes at my threat. Evan is a man who wears two masks, and the sweet, kind guy I met in biology lab vanishes.

“Don’t threaten me.”

I don’t back down at his severe reproach. “Then stop talking in riddles.”

His sudden bark of laughter startles me and makes me jump. “It’s scary how much you and Andie are alike.”

I’m so confused with the change of subject. “Who is Andie?”

“Another cousin. You’ll meet her and more of our Irish brood when we get to Texas.”

How many cousins do I have?

Getting annoyed that he hasn’t given me any straightforward answers, I swivel my chair around, intending to leave. I’ll go find Candace and see if I can still use her phone, but Evan stops me before my butt leaves my seat.

“James called in a marker, and my father is bound by blood oath to fulfill it.”

I spin my chair back toward him. “That sounds very draconian and John Wick-ish.”

His face alights. “I love those movies. Have you seen the last one? Not as good as the others, but that roundabout scene and the one at the stairs was—”

“Evan.”

He sighs and rests his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “If you’re wanting me to tell you what promise James made my father swear to, I can’t because I honestly don’t know. Dad wouldn’t tell me where he took you or where you were, only that you were ‘safely hidden in plain sight,’” he says with finger quotes. “Then, all of a sudden, Dad sent me to DF last year, somehow knowing you would be coming. I had no plans to attend university at all, to be honest, but like you, my life is shaped by what my father wants, and I get little say in the matter.”

“You sound like Tristan,” I remark, reflecting on how both men feel trapped by their fathers’ aspirations and wants.

He quirks his mouth to the side, and a small dimple pops in his left cheek. “The Society and the mob aren’t so very different. We’re just not as polished or pretentious.”

I groan and scrub my hands over my face. “God, I hate that stupid name.”

Whoever thought to call it the Society wasn’t very imaginative.

Evan’s hazel eyes go smoky, and he becomes enigmatic again. “He’s not going to give it up for you.”

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