The Sinners of Saint Amos: The Full 3-book Boxset

by Logan Fox

  “‘Cos then we’d all know who spits in our food,” Cass says through a smirk.

  Apollo barks out a laugh.

  I’m still watching Rube. And he’s watching me.

  “Even if she’s his fucking daughter,” I say, “how could she fuck this up for us?”

  Reuben shrugs—an impressive gesture on a guy with his shoulders. “We can’t risk it. This is the last chance we get.”

  “Exactly!” Apollo’s foot starts tapping. “It’s our fuckin’ last chance. We don’t do this, we’ve got shit. Nothing. Fucking nada.”

  “Relax,” Cassius murmurs, handing the blunt back to Apollo. “We’ll figure this out.”

  Apollo’s right. For once, time isn’t on our side.

  I make eye contact with Cass. He’s watching me with such intensity I already know what he’s going to say.

  “We have to try.” Cass stands. “Even if it’s a fuck up. Even if we get outed, this ends with him, one way or the other.”

  “Sit down,” I murmur.

  “You knew this day was coming.”

  “Sit. Down.”

  He does, but with ill grace and the type of sulky mouth I’d expect on Apollo.

  Rube’s staring a hole through my head. I prop my elbows on my knees and lace my fingers together. My ankles are starting to throb, but I don’t want to draw attention to the fact by rubbing them.

  “Then I vote yes.” I glance aside at Reuben when he remains silent. “Got to be unanimous, brother.”

  Reuben’s chair creaks when he shifts his weight. Apollo and Cass finish the blunt between them in the time it takes him to speak. When he finally looks up at me, determination gleams in his eyes.

  “No,” he says.

  I only realize I was holding my breath when it streams out of me in a hiss.

  No.

  Of course not.

  Reuben doesn’t take chances. If there’s the smallest chance something could go wrong, he backs off.

  Apollo springs up. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He stalks out of the crypt.

  Cass lets out a sigh, picks up Apollo’s camera, and shrugs at us before trotting out after him.

  Silence filters down between Rube and me for long minutes before I let out a sigh and rub my eyelids. “Sure about this?” I ask quietly.

  “Of course,” Reuben says. “She’s…”

  “What, Rube?” My next sigh is exasperated. “What is she?”

  He taps his thumbs against the side of his knees and then slowly looks up at me. “She’s one of us.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Trinity

  I make sure I’m awake before the first bell rings. While I was slaving away in the laundry yesterday afternoon, I had a lot of time to think.

  I meant what I said to Perry.

  This place is all I have.

  So I’ve got to make this work. Fuck knows how, but if I’m going to spend a good three or four years here, I need to make peace with the natives.

  Starting today.

  I run a hand through my curls as I sit up in bed. It was too cold to sleep in my usual pajamas—cotton boxers and a vest—so I put on a sweater before crawling under the covers.

  Jasper shoves away his blanket with a groan and then swings his legs over the side of the bed and yawns. When he sees me staring at him, he freezes.

  “What?” he snaps, going to get his clothes from his closet.

  “Did I tell you I’m thinking about becoming a teacher?”

  Jasper scratches his hip without answering. He yanks out a pair of clothes and tosses them to the bed. I guess he’s not going to shower this morning. Though, from the smell of sweat rolling off him, he really should.

  I’d still love to know what he did to get himself stuck with me as a roommate. But that’ll come in time. Right after I turn him into my BFF.

  “Thing is, I was homeschooled,” I go on as I start untangling my curls with my fingers. “I’ve never really had anyone to practice on.”

  Jasper’s shoes thump to the floor, and he slips them on without bothering to put on socks first.

  “Boo for you,” he mutters, and exits the room in his trunks and vest.

  I guess he’s used to the cold.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself.

  Guess he’s not a morning person. Well, at least I planted the seed. I’ll try again at breakfast.

  Should I shower before school starts?

  Jasper left the door open. Half-dressed boys of all ages stream this way and that across the hall, some with towels slung over their shoulders.

  I sniff at my pits and shrug. At least I don’t smell as bad as Jasper.

  Father Gabriel leads us in prayer at the chapel. Since I got here early, I had my choice of seats. I didn’t want anyone creeping up on me again, so I’m sitting near the front. This way Gabriel can watch over me.

  But as soon as the provost is done addressing the school and reading today’s scripture, he walks off stage. Not even a glance in my direction. It’s like he’s forgotten all about me.

  I hesitate for a second, and then hurry after him before I can second guess myself. I hope this isn’t a restricted area, because I need to know what I can do to earn my own room. And a proper school uniform. One that doesn’t come pre-installed with lice.

  I push open the door Gabriel disappeared behind and walked right into him.

  “Trinity?” He frowns at me, and for just a second there’s something very unfriendly in his eyes.

  “Father. I’m—I’m sorry to just—“

  His eyes soften from wood to velvety chocolate. “Gracious, I’ve been so caught up, I haven’t had a chance to check in with you.” He grabs my arm and leads me to a nearby table with a set of chairs. “How are you, child?”

  I sink down, but he remains standing, forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him.

  “It’s been an adjustment,” I admit. I was going to honey coat it—no use complaining when I’m trying to show him how well I can adapt—but he’s always had a way of drawing the truth out of me.

  Did he have that same effect on Mom and Dad? Did they tell him things without wanting to?

  Bad things?

  Sinful things?

  I push away the thought. This place is making me jump at shadows. How can anyone stand it?

  “I would imagine so. Tell me, how are you finding the classes? Have your teachers been accommodating?”

  Teachers.

  Of course! That’s my way in.

  “That’s actually why I’m here.” I twist my hands in my lap and force out the words before I can lose my nerve. “Is there a chance, I mean, do you think I could try and…?”

  “You may speak freely, child,” Gabriel says. He shifts his weight, looking for all the world as if he could stand there all day while I fought my tongue.

  “I want to be a teacher.”

  He nods, waits.

  “I’d like to teach here when I’ve finished high school. Is that…would that be…?”

  Gabriel cups my face in a hand. I start at the intimate gesture, but I don’t pull away. The last thing I want is to offend him. His usually vacant smile deepens. It’s not the first time I’ve seen his dimples, but I can’t remember when last he looked so happy.

  “You truly are a remarkable girl.”

  Pressure wells behind my eyes. I drop my eyes, but he keeps me looking up with that gentle pressure on my jaw. His hands are warm, slightly calloused—which is strange for a man of the cloth. “Is that a yes?”

  “I would love nothing more,” he says.

  He turns to leave, and then pauses and turns back. “I’ll send someone to collect you tonight.”

  I was in the process of standing. My knees lock, leaving me in a weird half-crouch. “Uh…why?”

  “We shall have dinner. God bless, Trinity.”

  I almost manage to reply.

  Almost, but not quite.

  Chapter Twelve

  Trinity

  Morning prayers
ran shorter than yesterday. Despite my meeting with Father Gabriel, I get to the dining hall way ahead of everyone else. Since I don’t know when Jasper’s arriving, I decide to lurk in the corner close to the urns and have a cup of coffee. Which means I’m alone with the blond-haired film student when he wheels out a trolley full of breakfast trays.

  At first, he doesn’t see me.

  The coffee must give me a spark of courage, because by the time he’s done unpacking the food trolley, I march across the hall and come up behind him.

  I open my mouth, but he beats me to it.

  “Nice dress,” he drawls. “Really brings out your eyes.”

  I freeze to the spot. Nice dress? This fabric is so stiff I could prop it up in my closet—no need for a hanger.

  “Why do you keep filming me?”

  “Filming you?” He turns, watching me for a second from the corner of his eye. I take back what I said before—he is handsome, perhaps because of his sharp nose and blade-like cheekbones. It makes him look like a fox, especially when he narrows his honey-brown eyes. “Now why’d I do that?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “D’you really think you’re that pretty?” He sets down the tray he was holding and turns to face me. When he steps forward, I step back on automatic. “Or are you just that vain?”

  Now I’m regretting walking over here. I thought I’d have the upper hand, but—

  Without warning, the guy tucks a stray curl behind my ear. When his fingertips brush my cheek, they leave behind a static charge that’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

  “Stop filming me or I’ll report you.”

  The guy narrows his eyes again. “Who you gonna tell?”

  My mind scrambles to the scariest person in this place. “Sister Miriam,” I say, jutting my chin into the air. “She won’t stand for it.”

  “What if she’s the one who told me to film you in the first place?” He reaches for me again, and this time I take two steps back.

  By now, boys are starting to file into the dining hall. Thankfully, one of them is Perry. The blond guy glances toward the doorway and then back at me. “I got work to do, pretty thing,” he drawls through a wicked smile. “I’ll catch hell if you distract me much longer.”

  He hurriedly offloads the rest of the trays and pushes the trolley away without looking back. I start after him, but then stop. I don’t have the guts to demand his name. I mean, I barely stood my ground.

  I grab a tray and hover around the table until Perry comes up to get one too. He spotted me from the doorway already. When he gets close, he moves around like a skittish deer, as if he’s convinced I’m going to go for his throat.

  “Morning!”

  He flinches. “Hey.”

  “Sleep well?”

  “What do you want?” he asks, frowning at me as he grabs a tray and steps back. Did I look like that when I was dodging the blond-haired guy? Like a nervous rabbit facing off with a wolf?

  I’m such a wuss.

  Here I am, minutes after the provost tells me how remarkable I am, and I can barely hold a conversation?

  Screw that.

  I’ve been in the passenger seat for way too long while some anonymous driver takes me from point A to point B. Time to take the wheel.

  “I wanted to thank you,” I tell him.

  He glances back warily when I trail him to his seat. I sit beside him before he has a chance to object, and a moment later another kid boxes him in on the other side.

  “What for?”

  “I really think I can help Jasper.” I lay my hand on top of Perry’s. “I want to help him. And if I can, and he passes, then he’s got you to thank for it.”

  Perry stares at me for a second as if I’ve totally caught him off guard.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Perry snatches away his hand and ducks his head. I turn and beam up at Jasper. “Waiting for you, silly.” I point at the empty space opposite us. “I want to talk to you about something.”

  Jasper growls out something that could have been a curse—was definitely a curse—but he sits anyway, wincing the last inch of the way as if he can’t bear the thought of spending breakfast with me.

  “So talk,” he says, taking a noisy sip from his cup without making eye contact.

  “I need a student to tutor. Do you know anyone that needs help?”

  Jasper frowns at me, and then moves that look to Perry. “No,” he says. “Ask the teachers.”

  “Oh, right!” I snap my fingers and point at him. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Because I don’t want to try and teach just any kid. Jasper doesn’t like me, but he seems bright enough. I want to show Father Gabriel I can do this so I’ll aim for some low hanging fruit first. Plus, if I can get him to stop treating me like shit while I’m still his roommate, it would make my life that much easier.

  Two birds, one stone.

  Jasper scrapes his spoon through his oatmeal for a few seconds. I slurp at my coffee and take a bite of my toast, happy to shut up and wait.

  I don’t think he’s going to go for it, when he suddenly asks, “Will it get me out of swimming practice?”

  “Will what?” I ask through a mouthful of toast. I know I’m pushing it, but I need him to think this is his idea.

  “Extra classes.”

  “What, for you? You need extra classes?”

  “You said you need practice.”

  “I do.” I drop my toast and dust my hands. “Yeah, I guess I could do a few with you. Just while I figure things out. What do you need help with? Is it math? I could def—”

  “English,” Jasper cuts in.

  I nod, frowning a little. “Okay. Let’s do it.” I hold out my fist.

  He stares at it until I put it back in my lap. “See you at three,” he says.

  I salute him with my mug of coffee.

  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it’s done.

  I don’t risk pissing off Jasper by joining him at lunch. Instead, I sit off to one side and munch on a slightly soggy cheese and tomato sandwich while I steal glimpses at the rows of boys. Sister Miriam pops in on our meals as randomly as if she’s doing a spot check. The boys seem to have developed a sixth sense around it. Seconds before the dining room doors or kitchen doors swing open, the entire hall hushes.

  As soon as Miriam’s walked up and down a few times, she leaves. Seconds later, noise levels return to normal.

  Maybe I can get the hang of this place. It can’t be that hard—not if all these boys manage to coexist.

  I don’t have Psych today, and that suits me fine. If I did, I’d probably sprain my ankle on the way to Zachary’s class and arrive late…again. Heaven knows what penance he’ll assign me.

  Is he the kind of teacher that would go old school and draw me over his knee? I don’t think that shit’s allowed anymore, but Jasper didn’t look like he was kidding about getting lashes.

  I head to my room just before three. I don’t want Jasper to wait for me in case he loses his nerve and bails on our first lesson. Honestly, I’m a bit nervous. I paid close attention today in each of my classes, trying to figure out if there was anything specific I needed to do if I was going to start teaching. But nothing really jumped out at me, so I’m going into this blind.

  “Not here,” Jasper says as soon as he steps into the room.

  “Oh, okay.” I stand up, my notebook and math textbook pressed to my chest. “Then where—?”

  “Library.” He flicks his fingers, and I follow him.

  He leads me out the building and across the grounds. I slow down when I realize where he’s headed.

  “That’s where the library is?”

  “Relax. It’s not haunted or anything.”

  “But…”

  Who in their right mind puts a library in a cemetery? Thankfully, our path doesn’t lead us too close to the gravesides, but it’s still eerie having to walk within sight of the gravestones.<
br />
  The inside of the crypt is emptier than I thought. There are some chairs in the center, as if this place is used for bible study groups or AA meetings. Most of the space is filled with columns.

  He leads me to the back of the enormous room and then down a circular stairwell. When I clear the stairs, I pause for a second to gape.

  This chamber is huge. It’s not in a cross shape like the crypt, so I’m pretty sure it extends beyond the upper building’s walls.

  I guess they didn’t have enough dead bodies to put in here, so they decided to use it as a library instead.

  Row upon row of books line the walls and form narrow aisles. Closer to the stairwell are two sections with overstuffed chairs and sofas for people to read or study. A few feet away is a podium with a large, leather-bound bible on it. A spotlight set in the ceiling illuminates it. Dust motes disturbed by our presence catch fire in that beam of light.

  It’s so quiet down here.

  As if the books are all waiting for something…or someone.

  I guess the only thing a book ever wants is to be read. It’s sad to think no one ever comes down here—that’s obvious by the film of dust on everything and the staleness in the air. If I ran a place like this, I’d make sure it was clean and filled with curious minds.

  “We’ve only got an hour,” Jasper says.

  “Sorry.” I run my hands down my thighs, grimacing at the touch of the coarse fabric. “Just…taking it all in.”

  He takes a seat on one of the couches and leans back, watching me expectantly. “Do that on your own time.”

  I roll my eyes as I take a seat on the chair closest to him.

  Lord, I hope this isn’t a big waste of time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trinity

  I’m in the laundry room, suds up to my elbows, when a boy comes inside and walks straight up to me. He’s young, perhaps no older than thirteen.

  “Father Gabriel is looking for you,” he says.

  “Now? I thought he said I’m having dinner with him.”