Sin Series Stand-alone Novels: Endurance, Unintended & Redemption

by Cates, Georgia

  “I’ve been informed that she left her apartment with Sin’s sister-in-law, and they just arrived at Duncan’s Pub.”

  I have planned and carried out countless assassinations without so much as a qualm. But this… this, I dread like hell. I don’t tolerate the weaker sex well. The tears. The whimpering. The whole fragility thing. I despise all of it.

  But the pussy… I deal with that just fine.

  “I’ve called Niall to bring the limo around.”

  What is my father thinking? “The limo will call too much attention.”

  “The limo will have the room you’ll need for the men going with you.”

  I’ve never taken anyone with me on a job. “You know I work alone.”

  “This is different. You aren’t shooting someone while you’re perched at a distance. You’re going into Fellowship territory, a place where they’re always on guard, and you’re going to take a woman of great value. No one person should attempt to do that.”

  I don’t know the brothers of The Order yet. I don’t trust them to carry this mission out flawlessly, but my father is right. I can’t pull off this kidnapping by myself. “All right. I’ll take four men from your surveillance team. But they need to understand that I expect them to stay the fuck out of my way. And fuckups won’t be tolerated.” If this effort fails, we’ll likely not get another opportunity; Westlyn will be placed under a watchful eye. And that means I’ll be forced to take one of the others as my bride.

  I can’t let that happen.

  * * *

  I’m surrounded by four men who’ve watched my wife-to-be for a week. They know more about her than I do, including what she looks like. I’m tempted to ask about her appearance, but I don’t; these men have possibly seen parts of Westlyn Breckenridge that should be reserved for my eyes only. If I found out one of them had looked upon her unclothed, I’d be tempted to yank his eyeballs out of their sockets.

  I’ve only had a few days to adjust to the idea of taking Westlyn as my mate. Don’t ask me to explain it, but I already consider her my property although I’ve never laid eyes on her. My possessive feelings are completely insane, considering how much I don’t want her or this marriage.

  “Westlyn and Ellison… that’s them coming out of the pub, boss.”

  They didn’t stay long. I slide upward in my seat and watch the two women leaving the pub with a man. “Who is he?”

  “Jamie Breckenridge.”

  Family. Good girl, Westlyn. “Drive slowly until we reach them. When the car stops, we’ll exit together. First man who gets to Westlyn will hood her face and pull her into the backseat. Once she’s inside, we’re out of here.”

  “Jamie will be armed.”

  I’d expect no less. “I’ll take care of him.” I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he comes between me and my taking Westlyn tonight.

  The back door opens, and we spill out of the car. Jamie Breckenridge moves in front of the two women, shoving both behind him. One of the women goes down, landing on the sidewalk.

  He pulls his weapon just as I knew he would, but he doesn’t stand a chance at this showdown. Gunman versus doctor. It isn’t a fair fight.

  My bullet enters his upper shoulder, the exact target I was aiming for. It isn’t my intention to kill the man who is about to become my brother-in-law. Just need to hinder him a little.

  He collapses to the sidewalk. One of the women screams and crawls to him on her hands and knees as though it’s the end of the world. With that kind of reaction, I’m assuming that she’s his American lover who wasn’t raised in a brotherhood. A woman accustomed to these things wouldn’t behave that way.

  She places her hands over the growing wet sphere, leaning over him and saying things that I’m unable to hear.

  “Get them in the car now.”

  Them? Here we go with the fuckups. This is why I work alone. I’m the only person I can depend on to get things right.

  The other woman screams for help and fights impressively while Marshall holds her, and Glen places a hood over her head… before I’m able to see what she looks like. “Not both women. Just Westlyn Breckenridge.”

  “That’s not what your father ordered.”

  He didn’t mention anything about taking both women. “No time to argue. We need to go now.” We likely only have seconds before The Fellowship brothers inside the pub realize that something has taken place.

  The backseat of the limo fills, this time with two extra passengers. One more than I intended.

  I’m not certain which of these women is my intended. I thought Marshall and Glen had Westlyn, but now I don’t know since my father ordered both women to be taken.

  “On your knees. Hands behind your back.” I’m not worried about the MacAllister woman, but I’d expect Westlyn to have had extensive training on what to do in the event of an abduction. Can’t be careless with that one.

  A text comes in on the phone Glen has taken from one of their purses.

  Fellowship: Let’s talk.

  Kieran: I’ll consider that after I’ve had my fun.

  Fellowship: Don’t fucking touch them.

  I’m amused by whomever is texting. Does this person really think he can tell me what to do?

  Kieran: A little late for that. Don’t come for them or they die.

  Kieran: We’ll contact you when we’re ready to talk.

  I toss the phone to Glen and he returns it to the purse. No need to ditch it. The Fellowship will trace us to the compound eventually anyway.

  “Wes?” the woman to my right says. Her voice trembles, as does her body. She’s like a frightened rabbit.

  “I’m here.” Westlyn Breckinridge hesitated before answering—and identifying herself. She’s probably silently pleading with her friend to keep her mouth shut.

  I flick my wrist at Glen, cueing him to skip binding Westlyn Breckinridge’s wrists. I want her hands free.

  “She’s not Fellowship. You gain nothing by taking her.”

  I laugh at Miss Breckenridge’s weak argument. “You don’t think the sister of Sinclair’s wife is powerful leverage? Sounds to me like Miss Breckenridge doesn’t think very highly of you, Miss MacAllister.”

  Westlyn needs to learn sooner rather than later who it is she’s dealing with. “Crawl to me, Westlyn. On all fours like the Fellowship bitch you are.”

  She pleases me when she does as she’s instructed, proving she’s able to follow orders. A good quality to have in a wife. “On your knees in front of me. Kneel before your master.”

  I’m going to be her leader. Her master. Her husband. She might as well get used to being on her knees in front of me. I plan on having her in that position often.

  “Good lass. I think I’ll reward you for following orders by taking off your hood.” I lean forward and slowly lift the covering from her head.

  I’m about to look into the eyes of the woman I’ll call wife for the rest of my life. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t mildly panicked about what I’m going to see.

  The interior lights are on, and I stop lifting the cover to study the lower half of her face. No mustache. No beard. A narrow nose, slightly turned up on the end. A perfectly pouty set of pink lips with a deep cupid’s bow.

  I like what I see so far.

  I remove the cover from her head, and her eyes blink several times before focusing on mine. Bold black strokes line the top of her eyelids with a slight wing on the outer corner. Long, lush lashes surround irises of… what color I can’t tell. But they’re much lighter than my nearly black ones.

  Sexy. As. Fuck.

  Niall accelerates and Westlyn tumbles toward me, breaking her fall with her hands on my upper thighs, her touch causing my dick to twitch. I’m instantly attracted to this woman, and it’s a fucking relief like I’ve never known. “Hmm… no one told me you were such a beauty.”

  She stares at my face, and I imagine her mind rolling through images in her memory the way a thumb flips through pages of a magazi
ne. “Should I know you?” Her voice and breathing are soft and steady, unlike her friend who’s panting as though she might pass out at any moment.

  “I’m Kieran Hendry.”

  A wrinkle forms and deepens across her forehead while her brows tense. “Are you part of The Order?”

  “Aye. My mum is Arabella Grieves Hendry. Torrence was her brother.”

  The wrinkle across her brow lessens. “Your grandfather married your mum off to a brotherhood in the north as part of a treaty.”

  I’m pleased that she’s familiar with my parents’ marriage and treaty. “Aye. A very successful treaty, which made both brotherhoods very successful. And now The Order has asked her to come home and lead because she is the next Grieves blood successor.”

  That wrinkle in her forehead is back. “A woman is acting as the leader of The Order?”

  “No. My father is acting on her behalf until I step into the role of leader.” Not that my mother wouldn’t make a powerful one. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known, but she chose motherhood over leadership.

  Niall quickly brakes and then accelerates again, forcing Westlyn to grip my thighs again when she loses her balance. “What are you going to do with us?”

  “That conversation is coming, Miss Breckenridge, but right now I’m really enjoying the sight of you on your knees in front of me.” I study her cupid’s bow and consider reaching out to touch it. “I really like your pouty pink lips, but I think I’d like them more if they were wrapped around my cock.”

  She bears her pearly whites and snaps, “I hope you like my teeth as well.”

  That was unexpected. I’m impressed as hell with the bravery this woman is exhibiting. “Ouch, Miss Breckenridge. That could be dangerous for my dick. I guess we’ll go with the original plan instead.”

  Her head tilts to the side and her expression is one I’ve seen on my little sister a thousand times. I call it her smart-ass face. “The original plan being…?”

  “I take you to my house, tie you to my bed, and do whatever the fuck I want to you.” I look over at Miss MacAllister. “Both of you.” Let’s see what she has to say about that.

  “Ellison isn’t Fellowship.”

  “You said that already.”

  “She isn’t one of us and doesn’t understand any of this. She’s simply the sister of a woman who married into the brotherhood. This isn’t her fight. She doesn’t deserve to be injured or… damaged.”

  I loved the way she substituted the word damaged for raped.

  This may not be Ellison MacAllister’s fight, but she will soon be part of The Fellowship. She isn’t exempt from being used to my advantage. “Are you asking me to leave her unharmed?”

  “Yes… please. Show her mercy.”

  Westlyn is protective of Ellison, but let’s see how far that inclination runs. “What are you willing to do to keep Miss MacAllister safe?”

  Westlyn hesitates a moment. “What do you want from me?”

  I’m not ready to talk marriage just yet. I’m more interested in the fucking part now that I’ve seen her. “Will you take her beating? Take her rape? Plus yours?”

  “No, Wes! Don’t even think about agreeing to that.”

  The frightened rabbit has been very quiet until now, and I prefer that she stays silent. I flick my wrist, and Glen slaps Miss Macallister’s face through the hood. “Shut. Your. Mouth. I’m negotiating with Miss Breckenridge.”

  “Ellison will be unharmed if I take hers and mine?” Our eyes lock, and her voice remains steady. This woman isn’t afraid. Or at least doesn’t appear to be.

  Westlyn Breckenridge is willing to sacrifice herself for her friend. Selflessness. You don’t come across many women with that quality. And I’m going to take advantage. “Yes, but one more stipulation, Miss Breckenridge. Take yours and hers without a fight. Submit to me freely, and I won’t harm a hair on your friend’s head.”

  “Swear it on the life of your firstborn son.”

  Those words are entertaining since she’s going to be the one to give me my firstborn son. And she has no idea.

  “Don’t do this, Westlyn.”

  Westlyn acts as though she doesn’t hear her friend’s pleas. “Swear you’ll not harm her. Swear it on the life of your firstborn son, Kieran Hendry, and I’ll do it.”

  This will be a wonderful story to tell our son one day… how he was used to negotiate our first agreement before he was ever conceived.

  “Miss Breckenridge of The Fellowship brotherhood, I swear to you on the life of my firstborn son that Miss MacAllister will not be harmed by me or any member of The Order.” I can’t resist dragging my knuckles down her baby-soft cheek. “Do we have a deal?”

  She nods. “Deal.”

  The motion of the car soon stops, and Glen opens the door. “Take Miss MacAllister to the guest quarters. Feed her if she’s hungry. Offer her a shower and change of clothes, but keep her confined there. You heard my deal with Miss Breckenridge. No harm is to come to her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I grasp Westlyn’s wrist and lead her toward my suite. “Miss Breckenridge and I will be in my quarters. Do not disturb us under any circumstances.” I have some claiming to do. And a firstborn son to conceive.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Wes… I… I’m so sorry,” her friend calls out.

  “It’ll be okay, Elli. Go.”

  Westlyn doesn’t know me. She has no idea what I’m capable of doing, and yet she’s going to my quarters with me with her chin held high and her back straight as an arrow.

  She’s under the impression that she’ll be raped and beaten enough for two women, but there are no tears. No whining. No pleading. I admire the strength she is displaying.

  I open the door to my bedroom suite and hold out my hand. “Ladies first.”

  “I think you mean captives first.” Damn, she has a smart-ass mouth on her for someone who was just kidnapped by her people’s worst and most dangerous enemy.

  “Captive works as well.”

  She enters and stands in the middle of the room, assessing her surroundings. “This is a very nice prison. My compliments to the decorator.”

  This woman is blowing my mind. How can she be brave enough to say such things? “Is this all part of some kind of training you’ve undergone?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Her reaction is flat. Emotionless. It’s as though she’s an empty body, and her mind isn’t here with me. I don’t like it, and I’m going to elicit some kind of reaction from her one way or another.

  I pick her up and carry her to my bed, tossing her in the center. She lands on her back and presses her knees together. “You can close your legs all you like, but that isn’t going to keep me from getting between them.”

  Her eyes widen as she watches me take off my jacket and go to work on the buttons of my shirt. It’s the first hint of fear I’ve seen from her.

  I leave my pants on and crawl up her body until we’re face-to-face. “I thought you might want to finish undressing me.”

  No reply.

  “What’s wrong? You have nothing cheeky to say about that?” She turns her head, but I grasp her face and make her look at me. The grip of my hand on her cheeks forces her lips to protrude. “You make me want to fuck the sass right out of this pretty little mouth.”

  Still no reply. Disappointing. I was hoping for a little more of her smart mouth. I like it; it’s something different since no one ever dares to provoke or challenge me.

  I look into her eyes and study the flecks of color. Green. Brown. Gold. Such a lovely contrast next to her brown hair with golden streaks. I never dared to think, or hope, that my wife might be this beautiful.

  Gorgeous women are always pursued, but gorgeous women with Westlyn’s footing within The Fellowship would be highly sought. “How many cocks have been inside you?” There’s a sharp hitch in her breath, as though I may have offended her. “Tell me now.”

  Her eyes narrow. “So many t
hat I can’t remember them all.”

  So many that I can’t remember them all. That makes me see fucking red.

  A Fellowship whore. That’s who my wife will be. I should have known, but I had hoped that there was a chance that she had remained pure.

  Wrong.

  “If you’ve had so many that you can’t remember them all, then one more won’t bother you. I promise you that you’ll not have a problem remembering this one.” I push my hand up the bottom of her dress. “I’m going to fuck you as often as I want and as hard as I want, and you’re not going to tell me I can’t.” I feel for the crotch of her knickers and yank it so hard that the fabric rips apart. “How many of those men have been inside you without protection?”

  She stares at the ceiling, saying nothing, and blinks rapidly.

  I lower my body, so there’s only an inch or so between our faces. “Answer me now, Westlyn.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  Is she trying to piss me off? Make this worse than it has to be? “Oh, you’re definitely about to do that, Fellowship whore.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You are a monster. You’re going to be the perfect leader for The Order.”

  Her words penetrate my rage and seep into the rational corner of my mind, the part that tells me I’m allowing my anger to take over. If I don’t get myself under control, I could truly hurt her.

  I’m a leader. I can’t allow emotions to dominate me. Ever.

  This woman has the power to affect me. Affect my actions. My emotions. It’s a weakness I can’t afford.

  I push away from her and sit back on my haunches, looking at her lying on the bed with her knees pressed together like an innocent virgin. “You shouldn’t have defiled your body by being with all of those men.” I move off her and go to the bench to grab my shirt. “You should have kept yourself pure for your husband.”

  Pure for me.

  She says nothing, but pulls the bottom of her dress downward to cover her legs and scoots to the head of the bed.