A Necessary Sin (9 page)

D
ad drops
us at home after lunch and I feel I owe Bleu an explanation for my father’s bizarre behavior—except I don’t have one. I only know he’s completely taken with her. And this is good. It means he isn’t concentrating on her being an outsider, which triggers a thought in my mind. Dad was having an affair with a woman not within the circle of The Fellowship. Did the brothers know or did he keep it secret as I’m doing now?

“I feel like I should apologize for the way my father conducted himself today. I’m not sure why he felt compelled to continually talk of his lover and her daughter. I’m sorry if it made you ill-at-ease.”

“I probably encouraged him with my questions. I shouldn’t have pried, but I truly had no idea there was such a tragedy behind his love affair.”

I remember how Dad would be in a pleasant mood when he came back from his trips to the US. I always assumed it was because business had gone well. Now that I know about this woman he loved, I’m guessing she was the reason. “I remember him grieving for her, the American.”

“How so?”

“He returned from one of his trips and went MIA for days. No one knew where he was—not even Abram. I remember the brothers going crazy. They thought an opposing adversary got to him so he was assumed dead. There was lots of talk but I didn’t know what to believe. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

“Where did he go?”

“I never knew. But he was different when he came back. His drive was gone.”

“How old were you when that happened?”

“Nine? Maybe ten?”

Thane was a married man when he was seeing my mom. I don’t like the thought but I have to wonder if she knew he had a wife and children. “You don’t seem upset for your mother.”

“They’ve never cared for each other. She wouldn’t be hurt by his relationship with another woman so why should I be?”

“I guess I thought maybe deep down, she loved him. Women can be that way.”

She’s never met Isobel Breckenridge. “Not my mother. Loving my father would require emotion I don’t think she possesses.”

“Those are strong words to say about one’s parent.”

My mother can be very harsh. It was difficult growing up with her as a mum. “She’s indifferent to all of us—Dad, me, my brother, Mitch. The only person she ever cared for was my sister, Cara.”

“You haven’t mentioned a sister.”

“She’s gone.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

I still nearly become sick every time I think of what happened to my baby sister. “She was five years old when someone came into her room and smothered her. To this day, we don’t know who.” They used her favorite stuffed animal, a leopard-print cat, a gift for her birthday. She loved that thing so much.

Bleu suddenly becomes pale and fidgety. She seems heavily affected by hearing of Cara’s death. “Is child killing a common practice in your world?”

I can’t believe she would even think that. “Never! No one in The Fellowship condones the killing of a child. We aren’t monsters, Bonny. None of us would harm a child. There’s no place for that in my brotherhood.”

“What does The Fellowship value most? Do they hold anything dear?” I don’t care for her tone. It implies she believes we have no feelings or emotions.

“Nothing means more to us than family and loyalty. We have codes concerning both that we don’t break.” Some believe our devotion is misguided because of the things we do and find acceptable, but I don’t question the trust I have in my brotherhood.

“What would you do if you found out a comrade had harmed a child?”

“I’d kill him.” No second thoughts.

“You’d do that even if it was someone you loved dearly?”

She has misjudged me. “We should become clear about one thing. I love no one dearly. But back to your question … I wouldn’t hesitate if the circumstances warranted. It’s my place to carry out swift justice.”

“How many people have you killed?”

She should know she can’t ask that. She’ll need to learn she isn’t privy to Fellowship information. “I’m not discussing that with you.”

“Why not?”

Is it not obvious? “Because you aren’t Fellowship.”

“But you’ve told me other things.”

“I’ve told you nothing of consequence. Admitting to murder is something entirely different. Don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I’m intelligent enough to avoid incriminating myself.”

“I don’t ask because I’m going to run to the authorities. I know you’d kill me if I did.”

“Aye. I would.”

Bleu understands how I operate, yet she’s still here. She isn’t afraid of what might happen. I choose to believe that’s because she isn’t planning to be anything but trustworthy.

If I were capable of having feelings for a woman, I think I’d have them for Bleu. It’s really too bad she’ll be leaving sooner rather than later. I think I could see this thing between us going somewhere if she stayed.

This conversation needs a new direction. “Did you enjoy lunch?”

“I did. Your father was very charming toward me considering I’m forbidden fruit.”

Of course there’s the issue of The Fellowship but it felt like my father was understanding of my liaison with Bleu. I guess he would be since he’s been there. “I feel good about Dad’s reaction. He seemed encouraging. That’s never happened with any woman.”

“Why would he not urge you to have a relationship? I would think he’d want you to eventually marry and have children.”

“I’m guessing they haven’t been pushing for it because I’m still in my traineeship. Once I’m finished, I expect them to press for a marriage. They’ll expect me to produce a son.” That doesn’t bring pleasant thoughts to mind.

“Then you may only have a few months of bachelorhood left. Do you have your eyes set on a lucky lady?”

“Not a one.”

“Will your father choose a wife for you if you won’t?”

“He might try, but I’d prefer to not marry at all if I have to live the way my parents did.” I lace my fingers through Bleu’s and squeeze. “I’m not attracted to weak women willing to give their bodies to men to get what they want. Most of The Fellowship women have been passed around by my brothers. I don’t want to wonder how many of them have fucked my wife.”

“I can see where that might be a turnoff.”

“Aye, a huge one. But I have a new favorite turn-on—a woman who’s only had me inside her.”

“I’m happy you’re pleased.” She gets up from the couch and tugs on my hands. “Come to the bedroom with me. We’ll see if I can please you again.”

T
he shifting
of the bed wakes Bleu when I move to the edge to put on my prosthesis. I don’t usually apply it for a visit to the toilet but I’m not doing the naked hop in front of her.

She slides over and kisses my bare back. “Where do you think you’re going? It’s too early to get out of bed. ”

“The toilet.”

“Will you be coming back?”

It’s already later than I usually sleep—but it’s Saturday, so I don’t have work today. “Do you want me back in bed with you?”

“I do but you probably shouldn’t get any ideas about a morning shag. I fear my body is protesting your exploitation of it last night. I’m not feeling my best down there.”

I wasn’t rough with her at all since I suspected she could be sore. I’m surprised she’s having discomfort. “The condoms may be irritating you. They do that sometimes.” I turn on the lamp. “Let me have a peek.”

I push her onto her back and she clamps her thighs closed. “No way. You can forget that.”

“You may be having an allergic reaction.”

“I don’t need you to look at my stuff for me to be sure this kind of swelling isn’t normal.” Her face is pained as she wiggles. “What would you say if I told you I didn’t want to use condoms anymore?”

I’m clean. She’s clean, and infertile, so I guess it would be all right. We’ve sort of already been together without one anyway, if you count the first time when the rubber busted. “I guess it’s okay if you’re one hundred percent positive you won’t get pregnant.”

“I’ve been evaluated by more than one doctor and they all agree a pregnancy won’t happen without extensive—and expensive—medical intervention.”

I want to know what’s wrong with her.

I guess wrong probably isn’t the best term to choose. I wouldn’t want her to say something wasn’t right with me because I have an amputation. Infertility is a medical condition. It doesn’t define her, just as this steel blade attached below my knee doesn’t define me.

“I’m up for doing it bare if that’s what you want.”

“You’ve claimed me so I guess that negates the conversation about sexual monogamy.” She quickly looks up at me. “That is absolutely nonnegotiable. Understand?”

I can’t think of a lass I’d want after having her. “I told you I wouldn’t be with another woman.”

“I know that’s what you said, but this is serious—like catching a disease kind of serious—so I feel like I need to stress the importance. Can you solemnly promise me there’ll be no one else?”

I twist around so I can face her. I stroke my hand down her cheek before kissing her quickly. “Aye, I swear you’ll be the only one.”

I return from the toilet and remove my blade, the one I wear around the house, before getting back into bed. Bleu moves over to rest her head on my chest. She touches the inked pattern on the inside of my upper arm using her fingertips. “I love this pattern. What does it mean?”

“It’s a Celtic shield knot. It’s symbolic of protection.”

“I thought it might be some kind of love knot you got for a girl,” she giggles.

I’m pondering Bleu’s romantic notion when my phone rings. I reach for it on the nightstand but feel compelled to clear her notions about my tattoo. “I assure you it wasn’t inspired by romantic ideas such as that.”

It’s Abram. He never calls on the weekend so I’m guessing something has happened. Dammit. Whatever it is will tear me away from spending the day with Bleu. Another day is hijacked. “Aye.”

“Your father tells me you have a lass, an American.”

I should have known Dad would tell him. “Aye.”

“I should meet the woman in the life of The Fellowship’s future superior. Bring her to my house for dinner tonight at seven.”

I wish I could refuse. “Of course.”

“We’ve been invited to dinner at my uncle’s.”

“Your father’s brother?”

“Aye, Abram.”

“I heard his name a lot at the bar. Is he ahead of you in line to take over?”

He wishes. “Abram can never be in the head leadership role. He was adopted and only a blood Breckenridge can become sovereign.”

“Was he adopted as a baby?”

“His parents were Fellowship but they were killed in a car accident. My granda always favored his father so he took Abram. I think he was around five.”

“Does he have children?”

“He’s Jamie’s father. He also has two daughters, Westlyn and Evanna.”

“Oh. Then y’all are cousins and best friends?”

“We are—known each other our entire lives.”

“I haven’t spent much time with Jamie. He doesn’t come into Duncan’s often.”

“He used to but he’s in the middle of his trainee rotation in trauma surgery. He stays busy with that and his studies.”

I see the surprise on her face. “I didn’t know Jamie was in medical school. Is he leaving The Fellowship?”

She doesn’t understand the dynamics of our brotherhood. No one leaves The Fellowship, not alive at least. “No. Trustworthy physicians are few and far between. There’s always an issue when a brother has an injury the infirmary is required to report to the authorities. You can see how that’s a problem. The Fellowship decided to send one of our own for medical training and Jamie volunteered. When he finishes his traineeship, he’ll come to work for us as a private physician. He’ll never work a day for the public.”

“You’re being trained to criminally defend the brotherhood, Jamie will treat them medically when things go awry, and Leith will get them drunk. I do believe the three of you are the perfect trifecta.”

Trifecta. That’s the perfect word to describe us.

“
Y
ou should probably expect
to be under a microscope.” This is my warning to be prepared for a lot of probing.

“I understand why and I don’t mind. I have nothing to hide.” This is completely expected. “But you should know now that I’m not consenting to a body cavity search.” Sterling stares ahead but I hear him cackle beneath his breath. I look forward and can see the reflection of his grin in the rearview mirror. “Do you blame me, Sterling?”

He’s a man of few words. Or maybe no words. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard him utter a single one, at least not to me. And he doesn’t this time, either.

I’m a little concerned that Abram has such a say in Sin’s life. “Your dad is leader. Shouldn’t Abram accept me without further evaluation if Thane approves?”

“Ideally, yes. But Abram is a controlling bastard. He likes things done his way. It often creates a power struggle between him and Dad. In the end, my father is always in command and wins—but not until after being forced to flex his muscle.”

Thane likes me very much. I hope it’s enough for him to do some flexing.

Abram’s home can easily be called a castle. The main house’s exterior is weathered stone, much like most of the buildings you see in Edinburgh. I’m no real estate expert but it has all the classic architecture of a home built hundreds of years ago.

It’s surrounded by lush green pasture. The air smells of freshly cut grass. And cleanliness. It’s very different from what I’m accustomed to in Memphis.

We go into Abram’s home and his expression is telling. He looks as though he’s seen a ghost. That convinces me he at least knows what my mother looked like. I’d not given that much thought but it’s likely he knew her as well.

Sin introduces me to Abram first. “My God. Thane was right. Your resemblance to Amanda Lawrence is uncanny.”

“You’ve heard the old saying, ‘like father, like son’? It often rings true.” I’m guessing this woman looking me over is Thane’s wife.

“This is my mother, Isobel,” Sin says.

She’s a very attractive woman with short, bright red hair styled in a pixie cut. Her eyes are vivid blue. I’m instantly reminded of Sharon Osbourne. At first glance, I see no part of her in Sin but then I notice something around her eyes that reminds me of him.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Breckenridge.” I’m expecting her to be a hard one to win over.

“The pleasure is all mine, dear.” She seems very pleased by my presence, maybe even exceedingly so. I didn’t expect a warm welcome considering the things Sin has told me about her.

I’m introduced to Abram’s wife and then the six of us go into the formal dining room. Despite the age of their home, the interior is modern and filled with exquisite furnishings. My surroundings could pass for those belonging to royalty. It makes me sick to think of the people who have suffered or been killed so they can live in this manner.

Abram pulls out the chair next to the head of the table. “Please do me the honor of sitting next to me, Miss MacAllister.”

I look to Sin, unsure if it’s what he’d have me do. He nods his approval so I take the seat. I have two of the most notorious criminals in Scotland sitting to my right and directly across the table. I’ll be questioned and ogled by them both. That shouldn’t be at all stressful.

Abram allows the first course to be served before he begins his cross-examination. “How old are you, Miss MacAllister?”

Sin sighs loudly, displaying his annoyance. “Not this again.”

I put my hand on his knee beneath the table. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” I look at Abram. “Twenty-five.”

“The same age as Amanda’s daughter would have been. That’s a very unlikely coincidence. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I shrug and return to my soup.

“Allow me to address all the concerns and questions you might have, Uncle,” Sin says. “I understand Bleu has an uncanny resemblance to Amanda Lawrence but she didn’t know her or her daughter. She would have been a young child when they were killed, so please stop harassing her about something she knows nothing about.” Sin’s drawn a line in the sand by expressing his loyalty to me. It’ll be interesting to see the shit this stirs.

Isobel clears her voice. “My son is right. And I’m sure Miss MacAllister is nervous enough without you performing an inquisition, Abram. Leave her be.”

Sin looks at his mother as though he has no idea who she is.

I wait until Thane and Abram aren’t looking to mouth “thank you” at Isobel. She gives me a kind smile followed by a single nod.

I don’t think she’s the woman Sin claims her to be. I believe I could find an ally in her. It’s definitely worth a try since she may very well hate Thane as much as I do.

I
t’s
after two in the morning when Sin’s phone comes to life on the nightstand. “Aye … okay … I’ll be there in twenty.”

The bed moves when he rolls toward me. “Bonny Bleu.” He spoons me from behind and kisses my neck. “I have to go out for a while.”

“Mmm … hmm.”

He nuzzles my neck with his facial hair. It tickles. “Did you hear me, Bonny? I have to leave.”

“I heard you.” My voice is slow and lazy.

“I probably won’t be back before morning.”

“’Kay.”

The mattress shifts. I hear rustling in his closet, followed by water running. I don’t think he’s even trying to keep the noise to a minimum. But I’ll forgive him. He isn’t accustomed to having a woman in his bed.

I get up and slip my robe on over its matching gown. I stand in the doorway with squinted eyes watching Sin slip into his shoulder harness.

Some women love a man in a uniform. I have a fondness for ones who pack heat—especially in gun harnesses. It’s even hotter when he’s exacting justice for a crime that would otherwise go unpunished. I can’t help it. It’s my thing.

“What’s happened?”

“The daughter of a Fellowship member was taken from her bedroom tonight. The lass was beaten and raped. She’s in surgery right now to fix what they did to her.”

That’s sickening. “Oh God. Who would do such a thing?”

“One of our rivals has claimed responsibility. It was an act of retaliation.” For what?

“What are you going to do about it?”

He stands straight and tightens his harness. “They harmed one of mine. It’s worse because she’s a child. The doctors can fix her physical injuries but she’s probably emotionally ruined forever. It’s my place to avenge the wrong.”

His words strike a chord with me as my heart goes out to a child I don’t know. “A revenge kill is over too quickly and yields far too little satisfaction. They need to suffer before they die.”

“I strongly suspect you may have a vengeful side that rivals my own. You’re host to a very dark companion inside your head.” He comes to me and pushes my hair from my face. He cups my cheeks in his palms and stares at me. “You’ve never said so but I know something bad has happened to you. I’d like it very much if one day you’d lift the veil and allow me to know what has made you the way you are.”

What kind of person does he believe I am?

He passes his thumb over my bottom lip. “What do you find a suitable torture for men who would do this?”

He’s putting me on the spot. “I’m not sure the means, but it would involve the loss of a highly valued appendage.”

“And you could do this?”

“For child rapists, yes.”

“Aye. I believe you would.” He smiles and kisses my forehead. “This isn’t the right time but there’s potential for you joining me another night.”

He pulls me close and squeezes.

“Come back to me safely.” I sound like a wife sending her husband off to war. At least I think I sound pretty damn convincing.

“I shall.” He slaps my ass cheek. “Back to bed with you, bonny one. Sleep in if I haven’t returned by morning. I want you ready and waiting for me when I get home.”

“I’m still not back to normal.”

A mischievous grin spreads. “You don’t have to be for what I have in mind.”

He kisses me one last time as he’s leaving. I lock the door behind him before returning to an empty bed. I turn onto my side and grab his pillow, hugging it. Sleep doesn’t find me because I’m worried about his safety.

I shouldn’t care if he lives or dies? But I do.

I lie in bed tossing and turning for at least two hours before I hear Sin return. That was much faster than I anticipated. I didn’t think he’d be back until the sun was up.

I don’t want him to know I’ve been lying in his bed worrying about him, so I pretend to be asleep. I listen to his footsteps coming nearer as he approaches me from behind. Perhaps he means to slip into bed without waking me since it’s still the middle of the night. But something isn’t right. I’ve come to know his gait. He’s nearly mastered a perfect one without a limp—almost. The stride I’m hearing now doesn’t belong to him.

So I wait. This predator is unaware he’s about to become the prey.

His footsteps stop. My gut tells me this is my one and only chance to strike before my brain gets bedazzled with a shiny lead slug. I spin around and sweep my arm through the air, knocking what I assume is a handgun from his grasp.

The shadow in the dark pushes me to the bed and grabs at my throat. He’s going for my air supply but he’s unaware no one will ever suffocate me again.

I’m calm and collected when I place my soles against his chest and shove. I get to my feet and stand on the bed, waiting for him to advance again. I listen carefully and deliver a straight foot thrust into his throat, causing a temporary spasm in his trachea. The convulsion will clench his throat closed and he won’t be able to breathe. He’ll feel as though he’s suffocating and I’ll have less than thirty seconds before it functions normally again.

I tuck his head beneath my armpit. I clamp my arm around his neck so my forearm is pressed against his spasming throat and I squeeze. I wrap my leg around his midsection with body scissors and arch backward, pulling his head forward, stretching his torso and neck. “Who sent you?”

No answer. But of course, I do have him in a chokehold while his throat is contracted. “Can’t answer, huh?”

I let up lightly. “The good news is that your throat is going to open again in about ten seconds. The bad news is that I’m cutting off your air supply and you won’t be able to breathe even when your trachea stops spasming.”

He’s fighting against me but I have a death grip on him. “I’m going to ask one more time. Who sent you?”

He bucks backward and hits his skull against my cheek. He isn’t talking and if I let him up, he’s going to kill me. It’s kill or be killed. Of that, I have no doubt so I squeeze until he stops fighting.

I’m physically spent and shaking so badly I can’t get up from the floor. I manage to reach over to feel for a pulse and confirm there’s nothing. I lie there motionless for a moment because my muscles are too weak to carry me anywhere.

Shit. The room is in a shambles and there’s a dead body lying in Sin’s bedroom. I’m not really sure what he’s going to say when he returns from his kill and finds that I’ve done the same thing—inside his home.

I sit and wait because there’s nothing else to be done.

As promised, it’s morning before Sin returns. I’m sitting in the chair when he comes into the bedroom. He sees the body on the floor and looks more like a frightened animal than the untouchable organized crime boss he’s destined to become. “I was lying in bed when he attacked me from behind. Sorry about the room.”

He strides across and pulls me from the chair. He holds me in his arms and squeezes tightly. “Are you hurt?”

“You can’t hurt a steel magnolia.”

He embraces me for a while before taking his phone from his pocket to make a call. “There’s been an incident at my flat. I need a cleanup immediately.”

I guess this is how they do it. No authority. No crime scene investigation. No evidence.

“I want you to take your things into the guest room and have a long, hot shower. Clear your thoughts and when you’ve finished, go into my office and wait for me. I’ll come to you after this is taken care of.”

He’s protecting me. He doesn’t want anyone to know I’m here or that I did this. “Okay.”

I take my time in the shower because I know that mess won’t be clear anytime soon. I stand under the falling water and wish the memories of the night would wash away, but it isn’t possible.

I’ve killed before. It too wasn’t by choice. I know all too well that the feelings to follow won’t go away with the snap of a finger—or a shower.

I go into Sin’s office after my shower per his instruction. His music library is open on his computer, so I scroll through his tunes and find a song titled “A Little Death” by The Neighbourhood. It seems a fitting song for the situation. It’s slow and seductive, nothing as I expected. I like it.

I’m sitting on Sin’s desk with my back to the door when I hear it close. I turn and watch him come toward me. I recognize that hungry look again. He stops, standing between my parted knees. He puts his hands on the outer sides of my bare thighs beneath my simple cotton dress and glides his palms upward.

He’s showered. His hair is wet and he smells of cologne. I wonder if his cleansing cleared his mind of the things he did last night. Mine certainly didn’t.

His eyes trail down my neck and he lowers his mouth to place a kiss there. “These bruises will disappear with time and it will be as though it never happened. I’ve taken care of everything. This will never come back to you.”

He’s made the night’s unfortunate events disappear. I’m not certain if his motive is to protect me or himself, but I’m inclined to think all of this is directly related to the feelings he’s developing for me.

“I like the way this feels—you shielding me from harm.”

“I promised you I would protect you.” He strokes his thumb over my cheekbone, the one my attacker hit when he slammed his head against my face. There was a large purple bruise developing beneath the skin when I examined myself earlier.

I’m surprised by how arousing it is for him to take care of me. “I’d like to withdraw a pledge I made. I once said I would never allow anyone to fuck me across a desk, but I think this is a very different kind of circumstance. I’d like it very much if you’d have me right here and now.”