Then I begin wondering why I don’t have more memories of him. If I felt that strongly about his tears—I can feel the phantom ache now—then we were very much attached to each other. Why don’t I remember anything else?
Gray’s hand on my back and my stomach guides me to my knees. I want to protest and power through, but my limbs are quaking with confusion. “I shouldn’t know that. Our families don’t get along. I’m not allowed in the same building as Paxton.”
I can still see him, plain as day. Little boy, heartbroken that an animal was murdered for his meal.
It’s my own heartbreak that I’ve nursed ever since. In that way, his heart and mine are the same.
Gray’s voice is clear as he meets Charlotte’s eyes. “We need to be free. We need to get out of here. If your vision is saying that unlocking the prince is the way to go, then so be it. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” Charlotte gulps. “But we barely know him! We don’t know what turns the magic will take if he’s added to the mix.”
Gray kneels by my side, holding me gently while someone jeers “Shifter whore!” in the background. I shudder against Gray, swallowing all the things I don’t understand and can’t make my peace with. Whenever he’s gentle to me in public, it draws out anger from small minds who can’t understand that kindness comes in all forms.
Gray doesn’t retaliate. If not for the tightening of his biceps, one would guess he didn’t even hear the slight on me. Steadiness is his strength. It’s even more potent than his massive muscles. He controls his temper, and doesn’t let the jeers define his mood. That’s a good man—one who can be the best version of himself, no matter the circumstances.
I feel too many eyes staring a hole through my back, but I do what I can to ignore them, letting myself be in Gray’s arms and nowhere else. I’m not sitting across from seven-year-old Paxton. I’m not sneaking him an extra tart to fill his belly while his father berates him about the dangers of being so sensitive.
My hand tingles as my memory finally stretches open the tiniest bit, and the scene plays out in my mind. While King Regis shames Paxton over dinner, I see my little self reaching under the table and holding tight to Paxton’s hand, bracing him through the humiliating discomfort.
I shudder in Gray’s embrace as the rain that the clouds have been promising starts peppering down on our heads. I grip him tighter, scared of the dormant connection that’s only just now coming into my memories. What else has my brain been hiding from me?
But now is not the time for this. I can’t look weak in front of the other inmates; they’ll amp up the abuse, and I just can’t take it today.
I also can’t sit down during brick duty. The guards don’t let us slack off for more than a minute at a time so we can catch our breath.
When I rise to my feet, Gray is glued to my side, and Cass is stuck to Charlotte. I meet Charlotte’s eyes, grateful our protectors never stray too far when we need them most. Rain is slicking off my lashes, and the wind picks up, chilling my bones with a sudden freeze.
“Tonight,” I tell Charlotte. “I’ll unlock Paxton, and we’ll be one step closer to getting out of this place.”
By the time the whistle blows, the four of us are beat and ready for sleep, but we know there’s more work to be done before any of us can close our eyes tonight.
You can read “Sins of the Mother” by clicking here: https://smarturl.it/sinsofmother
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Note from the Author
There are a lot of issues to think about in this series, because it is based on inequalities that are happening right now in our current justice system. If you would like to learn more, I suggest looking into mass incarceration, the loophole in the Thirteenth Amendment, and the various companies who profit off the unfair wages they pay prisoners.
Do your research and vote. Be heard.
You have a right to your voice
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Mary E. Twomey
lives in Michigan with her three adorable children. She enjoys reading, writing, vegetarian cooking, and telling her children fantastic stories about wombats.
While she loves writing fantasy, dystopian, and paranormal tales for her readers, Mary also writes romance under the name Tuesday Embers.
Visit her online at www.maryetwomey.com.
Sins of the Father: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrified Book 1) Page 27