It was okay. The kids were okay. Well, most of them were okay.
Shit.
Not okay. He rolled down the window and breathed the cold fresh air lest he vomit.
For the past forty minutes, he’d recounted the events in his head, seeing if he could come up with a different scenario, one where Gloria and the girl survived… but he couldn’t. He slammed his fist on the steering wheel, making Mary jolt.
He knew deep down there was no way they could have gone back for Gloria and Despair and save the rest of children at the same time. The guards were there.
Sure, Mary knew some serious Mission Impossible shit… he gulped—he had a flash of blood spraying, a guard’s artery being hit—he squeezed his eyes shut and forced the macabre image away, then opened to watch the road whiz by in the dark.
His fingers twisted on the wheel, making the leather squeak. He didn’t know what to think. They had had guns. They had fired. It was the only thing Mary could have done.
It was them, or us.
It was a miracle none of them had been hit.
He glanced at her and caught a snapshot of her profile, dark and brooding against the flashes of street light through the passenger window. The wind from his window whipped her hair around. She was so beautiful in that moment. So strong. So calm. She had single-handedly saved their fucking lives. He wanted to pull the van over, drag her from the car and kiss her senseless. He was in awe.
Flint rolled up his window.
Mary leaned forward to check the side mirror with a flicker of a frown, then settled back in her seat. Flint kept darting his gaze to watch her. Her arched black brows, her cute nose, full lips. A graceful neck that led down to… his gaze darted from her collarbone and over her shoulder to a blood stain on the back seat. She’d been hit. Blood oozed from a spot on her shoulder. He hadn’t noticed before because of her red neck scarf.
“Mary, you’ve been shot,” he said, breath hitching.
She didn’t respond.
“Mary.”
“It’s just a graze,” she mumbled vacantly.
Maybe she was in shock. The woman had just bled for them. The least he could do was see to her injuries, see about getting these kids to a safe place. Then he could figure out what the fuck he was doing next.
“Right. I’m stopping at a motel. It’s late.”
An odd look flickered over her face. For a minute, Flint thought she would not respond, but then she nodded. “A motel is a good idea. The abbey is too far to reach tonight.”
Ten minutes later, Flint pulled the van into the parking lot of a faded highway motel just off the expressway. It was the first one they’d found. The sign flickered and was missing a letter, but the lot was clean and half full. He hoped that was a good sign. More patrons either meant decent motel, or druggies and undesirables. They needed a place to crash for the rest of the night and recoup. He parked the van and paid for their largest twin share room with cash, making their stay untraceable.
The room wasn’t huge, but clean and private. Maroon curtains blocked the windows. The walls were mustard, and the paper peeled in places, but there was a TV, a bar fridge, a microwave and a small dining table. A modest couch lined a wall, and there was a bathroom behind a door. Two big quilted beds sat side by side. He pushed them together. It would be big enough for the kids to sleep on. There was a bassinet buggy in the van for the newborn. Mary could take the couch, Flint would sleep on the floor. He’d go out for extra blankets as soon as they settled. It wasn’t great, but it would do for a few hours.
With a solid plan in his head, he felt better. Less chaotic.
Stealthily, they unbuckled the children one by one from the car and placed them on the beds. It was hard not to watch the children’s faces as they slept. Warmth rushed his chest when two of the younger children cuddled each other like stuffed toys. Another clutched his shirt like he were a lifeline and a fierce surge of protection overcame him. Awestruck at their innocence, he thought, for once in his life he’d done good. They’d done good. He had to put aside his guilt for the one who didn’t make it and focus on the seven that were saved.
Because of him and Mary, seven children would have a better life.
They would have a life, period.
Mary heated formula and fed the newborn with a look of wonder as she nursed the infant back to sleep.
Flint smiled. He’d been right when he told her she wasn’t capable of killing children. Just seeing the way she gently handled the baby reinforced that. She was still wounded, but put the child’s needs before her own, and in his eyes, that made her the best mother they could have. He was glad she’d be in their lives.
He settled the rest of their belongings inside, but kept one eye on Mary. The stone soldier had dissipated, and he caught her humming as she paced the length of the floor in front of the beds, quietly patting the baby in her arms. When she didn’t think Flint was watching, she buried her face in the baby’s neck and inhaled deeply. Her eyes were glistening when she pulled away, and then checked on each of the sleeping children, tucking them in tightly with one hand. She’d removed the boxing-tape from her hands while in the van. He noticed her knuckles then. They were purple and bruised.
He pursed his lips and, to Mary’s surprise, he took the baby out of her arms. Envy was asleep, milk drunk and snoring softly. It was so adorable that Flint almost kept rocking the baby in his arms.
“How do they do that?” he whispered.
“Do what?” she replied, touching Envy’s chin.
“Entrap you, just by being there. I can’t stop looking at him.”
“Because they are special. Important. They are the hope of the world.”
Mary met his gaze and, for a moment, they shared an inescapable connection. The Mary he loved was in there, then her expression shuttered as though she were trying to protect her heart. But he’d seen it. He’d seen the love she was capable of.
He placed the baby gently in the bassinet and then guided Mary into the small bathroom. She still looked shocked as he shut the door behind them.
The room was tiny. A white bath with a shower and a floral curtain. White toilet. Single white vanity with a counter on either side of the basin and a mirror over it. Nothing special, but clean with fresh towels. He slipped a hand towel off the rack and turned the faucet. Once the towel was wet, he wrung it out.
“All right. Let’s see that wound.”
Mary flinched. “I can sort myself out. In fact, your job is done. You’ve been paid, you can leave now. I can get them to the Sisterhood myself. Thank you.”
She took the wet towel out of his hands and turned to the mirror to see her wound. He stood behind her, watching her reflection ignore him.
The fuck?
Everything got real quiet. No sounds except the drip of the faucet and their soft steady breathing.
“Have I done something wrong?” Flint asked quietly, catching her eyes in the mirror.
The haggard look she returned sent all sorts of mixed messages running through his body. She’d shut down. Or had he really been part of the mission all along?
No. He refused to believe that. Their kiss had told him otherwise.
She’d told him once that her parents didn’t want her, that she was an orphan. He wasn’t going to quit on her like her parents. “Mary.”
“I saw the look you gave me in the car, Flint. That’s okay. I’m not sorry about what I did to save those children. I’m not sorry I asked you to leave Biolum Industries with me.” She inhaled deeply, broke eye contact and craned her neck to view her shoulder wound. She tried prying the frayed fabric away.
Good luck with that. The wound was behind two layers of clothing. A shirt and a woolen vest. He arched an eyebrow. She wanted to play woe is me, then fine. He’d watch her squirm.
“And exactly how was it that I looked at you, because, unless it’s with awe, then it’s news to me.” He folded his arms.
Her eyes widened, lashes lifting to expose stunning d
ark irises, then she glanced down at her shirt. “Do you mind? I have to undress.”
“So undress.”
He enjoyed the blush staining her cheeks despite the irritation swimming in her eyes. Didn’t matter. That dull, distant woman he’d driven here was gone. From the moment she’d smelled the baby’s sweet scent of innocence, Mary had returned to him. Flint had seen her physically unwind, the tension leaving her shoulders, the frown lines smooth from her face. Her love had been there before she’d locked it away, and he was determined to bring it back.
“You’re just going to stand there?” she asked.
“We both know you’re not a nun, Mary, so quit it with the modesty. Just let me help you.”
She ground her teeth. “Fine.”
Her hands lifted to the back of her neck to grip the collar of her vest, intending to pull over her head… but winced. The wince turned into a grimace, she froze and squeezed her eyes shut. A tear glistened at the corner of her lashes.
“Mary,” Flint whispered. He stepped into her, pressing his body against her back, capturing her wrists. “Let me help you.”
“No,” she said. Her words were harsh, but she weakened against his front. “Now’s your chance. You should go. Leave and never come back.”
He encircled her front and nuzzled her neck. “Why would I leave?”
“Because you didn’t sign up for this. You didn’t sign up for me. You don’t even know who I am.” Her eyes opened and met his in the mirror. Then she whirled on him so they were face to face, inches apart. “You have your money. It’s what you wanted. You should go.”
Anger rose inside him. “You think I’m only here for the money?”
She didn’t answer.
“Jeez, woman. I can’t tell if you’re just blind or naïve.”
She gasped. “You have the nerve to judge me? You’re the one who signed up to pay for someone else’s mistake.”
“Fuck you, Mary, if you think that’s why I’m here.”
“Eight million dollars, Flint. Take it. Leave. It’s one hell of a college fund.”
“Shut up.” He squeezed her arms. Goddamn that woman. Cheap shot, hitting him where it hurt, but he didn’t buy it. Screw her words. “You’ll have to physically remove me if you want me to leave.”
Her entire body relaxed, softened like jelly, as though she’d been holding it together by sheer will. And now it was gone. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “Before you came along, my visions always showed everyone else surviving. For months I saw the same thing, then it all changed after our moment in the elevator.”
“Are you blaming this on me now?” Fine. He’d let her do that if it helped her sleep tonight. He could take it. What was one more fuck up if he had her in his arms?
Mary’s hands fisted his shirt, her eyes pleaded with him, helpless. “I’m blaming this on me. If I wasn’t so wrapped up in my selfish desires, I would’ve noticed the other changes in the vision.” An anguished cry ripped from her. “I allowed myself to want something, and the vision changed! Don’t you see? It’s my fault! My fault they’re dead.”
Flint yanked her to his chest and held her close. She resisted at first, then melted into him until their bodies forged a new shape. She knew it. Her body knew it. They fit.
“Shh.” He tightened his grip. She felt so good in his arms. Small but powerful, and she needed him. “This is not your fault.”
“It is, it is.” She sobbed, crying into his chest, tears soaking his shirt.
“Because I want you? Because you want me?”
“Yes. I got distracted. Lost sight of the mission.”
“Mary,” he said, deadly serious. “There’s one flaw in your logic. You’re assuming this all changed that day in the lift, but—Mary, look at me.” He hooked a finger under her chin to lift her gaze. “I’ve wanted you since I first met you. Fuck. I wanted you so bad, I thought I was going to hell right then and there. You think you have a choice in this, but you got me. There’s no going back. I’m not letting go. Never.”
But she kept shaking her head.
“Think about it differently,” he continued. “What if, with Julius’ new demand, everything changed? What if that horrible second future you saw was coming true, and you and me together is the only thing in its way?”
Mary stilled. Her eyes widened. “That’s what Gloria said.”
“It is?”
“Yes, she said we were stronger together.”
“Gloria was a smart lady.”
Still dumbfounded, Mary could only nod. There was something more there, something Mary couldn’t share yet, but Flint knew he’d get it out of her eventually.
“Mary, there are so many variables. And, yes, we lost a few people on the way and it will cut us up for the rest of our lives, but you know what? We fucking did our best, Mary. We stood up and took action when no one else did. Those kids have a chance at a real life now.”
She pulled away, arching her head back, catching his eyes.
“You and me,” she whispered. “Together.”
“Yeah.” He cupped her face, thumb wiping the tear from her cheek. “God, you’re beautiful.”
He leaned in to kiss her, but stopped. He hadn’t noticed before because her hair was dark, but around her ear there was dried blood. “And filthy.”
Doubt flickered in her eyes, but before she could hold onto her thoughts, he’d switched on the shower. In seconds, steam filled the room, and he helped her out of her woolen vest.
“C’mon. Let’s get you out of this, get you washed, check your wound and…” He lost focus. Mary had unbuttoned her shirt, and it gaped open, exposing two perfect mounds of flesh curving over a simple black bra. Her chest rose and fell with her quickening breath. He couldn’t stop staring. He’d dreamed about those breasts. He’d fantasized about them. Nightly. In the shower. In his bed. In the elevator. Behind her in the line at the coffee counter in the staff break room. And now they were here, inches away from him. All he had to do was reach out…
Flint swallowed hard. Licked his lips. Met her uncertain eyes.
She was nervous, anxious… hopeful.
He’d never save the world like she would, but he could be her hero. He could wash her, clean her, hold her… make her forget. He lifted his finger to hook on her collar and slid her shirt off.
Thirteen
Mary watched Flint as he reverently undressed her. Her ears burned. Her heart pounded. Her eyes and throat were raw from crying. She was done with feeling guilty for wanting. This—what they had between them—was special. This was how she came back from death. This was how she lived again.
Gloria was right. Love had a way of bringing out the best in people.
Flint was also right. Anything could have made her original vision change course. It could have been a decision someone else made, not her. And after she’d admonished him for paying for someone else’s mistake, she’d almost done the same thing.
Not anymore.
If she wanted a world full of love, she had to lead by example. Starting right now. Mary pulled the shower curtain back and stepped into the hot stream and let it wash away her anxiety. The water pulsed down on her face, her back, her chest. Two seconds later, she realized Flint hadn’t followed her. Mary turned around, her body left the spray, and she shivered, goosebumps erupting over her skin.
Flint’s gaze snagged on her mouth, then traveled down… and back up. He watched her, mesmerized.
“Are you going to help me?” she asked.
“I’m going to do more than help you,” he said, voice raw. “I’m going to make you forget everything that made you cry.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“I’m going to run my fingers all over your soapy body, starting with your shoulders, your beautiful neck, and then work my way down to your breasts. Then I’m going to take each nipple into my mouth and suck on them until you beg me to stop.”
A slow, sinful smile curved his lips.
; “While my mouth is doing that,” he continued, eyes roving where his words indicated, “my fingers will slide downward, over your stomach, your perfect ass, between your legs… and then I’m going to do things that will have you moaning my name. I might even—”
“Are you going to talk about it, or do it?”
“Fuck.” He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor with earnest. “I’m going to do it.”
The rest of his clothes were gone in a blink and he crowded into the shower, taking up the small space with his big body. She barely had time to enjoy the view of his lean torso before he was on her. His fingers slotted into her wet hair, his thumbs pressed against her cheeks and he kissed her. Sweet heaven, he tasted good, and it drove her wild. She licked him back, nipped his lip, tasted his sweet salty tang, believing every minute of his words. He’d make her forget the bad and replace it with good.
The stiffness in her shoulder, the ache in her knuckles, all were taken over by sparks of pleasure zipping through her body. Aftershocks. Fireworks. Her hands landed on his chest, slipped down his pecs, abs, and traveled further south. He shuddered, skin pulling taut under her touch.
“Mary,” he whispered hotly into her mouth, warning her. He pulled away, eyes dreamy and dazed. “I said I would wash you. Shit. Where’s the fucking soap?”
Mary chuckled. “There.” She pointed.
“Good. Fucking great.” He picked up the fresh bar from the dish, unwrapped the paper and wantonly ditched the trash over the curtain. With a salacious wiggle of his eyebrows, he lathered it between his hands. “I’m going to wash the fuck out of you. Just watch me. No. Scratch that. Don’t watch me. Turn around. I can’t concentrate when you look at me that way.”
Mary couldn’t help laughing, her mood lifting. She turned to face the faucet, her back to Flint, wondering how the hell he kept doing that—cheering her up. He always did, no matter what. Even if he cursed, teased her, challenged her, his incorrigible energy was all she needed to brighten a stormy day. She pressed her palms to the wall for balance and closed her eyes.
Sinner: The Deadly Seven, Origins Page 8