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

by Logan Fox

  “Why?” I ask. “Tell me.”

  “Because we’re all coming undone,” Reuben says.

  “And as much as Zachary likes to think getting rid of you will help, it won’t,” Apollo adds.

  “Only one thing will,” Reuben says.

  “What?”

  “Finding our Ghosts,” they chorus, faces deadpan.

  Apollo leaves first to check if there’s anyone in the hallway. As I wait for Apollo to come back, I peek at Reuben standing in the doorway. He’s resting his shoulder against the jamb, arm barring my way as if he’s worried I’ll bolt out before the coast is clear.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I say.

  He glances at me and then does a double take. I stiffen when he reaches for me, but it’s only to slip the blanket off my shoulders. “They’d ask questions,” he says with an apologetic shrug. “Else I’d let you keep it.”

  I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s still flowing through my veins or surviving Cass’s attack with my virginity intact.

  More likely it’s the simple fact that Reuben’s always been kind to me. Taking into account how his friends treat me, I’m starting to think it’s something I shouldn’t take for granted.

  I step forward, go onto my tippy toes, and immediately realize my mistake when I pucker my lips a good two inches from his jaw.

  I forgot how tall he was. Other than kissing the side of his neck, there’s no other way to express my gratitude.

  My cheeks catch fire. I sink back to my heels, dropping my gaze as I pray for the earth to swallow me.

  A hand slips around my waist. Before I have a chance to protest, Reuben presses me to the wall beside the door.

  I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist, if only so I won’t hit the floor if he decides to let me go.

  But he doesn’t drop me.

  He pins me to the wall with his body and uses his hands to smooth my curls out of my eyes.

  “I wish you weren’t part of this. You’re too innocent to be mixed up in this shit. But then I wouldn’t have met you,” he murmurs.

  My heart twists as he comes close enough for me to feel his breath on my lips. “And I can’t imagine not having met you.”

  His lips crush mine.

  I have time for a gasp, but then I’m swept under. His commanding lips fight mine, urging me to open and let him in, but I’m so terrified that I’m doing this wrong, that I taste gross, that he’ll stop…

  He makes a sound deep in his throat. Somehow, my body takes it as a signal. Resistance flees. My lips part to let him in and it’s like stepping into the middle of a raging river. In an instant, I’m swept under.

  Electricity courses over my lips as our kiss slows.

  Seconds—centuries—later he pulls away, grabs my ass in both hands, and slowly lowers me to the floor.

  I swoon like some corseted lady from the eighteenth century about to succumb to a fainting spell, and lean against the wall before my legs can buckle.

  “You two done? Because we gotta go.” Apollo’s standing about a yard away, a deep frown creasing his brow.

  Did he see everything?

  I press the back of my hands against my hot cheeks. “Sorry,” I murmur, yanking the hem of my dress down my legs and dropping my head as I hurry out of the door.

  Behind me, Reuben lets out a throaty chuckle that does sinful things to my insides.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when Apollo and I arrive on my floor and I see the hall is empty. The last thing I need is another run-in with Cass.

  “Thank you for walking with me,” I say.

  “You gonna kiss me too?” Apollo asks dryly.

  I stop to frown at him, but he just keeps walking. Is he jealous because I was nice to the only person who’s treated me like a human being?

  I push back my shoulders and hurry after him, catching his shirt sleeve. “You make it sound like I go around kissing boys at random.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Reuben’s been super nice—”

  “Super nice?” He glances at me, his face expressionless. “I can be super nice too, you know.”

  I stop walking again, my mouth working as I try to find words. “Jealous much?” I call out after him.

  He spins around, eyes darting this way and that before narrowing and settling on me. “Would you keep it down?” he says, shaking his head. “We’re trying t’ be circumspect.”

  I lick my lips. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, fuck, me too.” He waves at my closed door and then frowns hard at me as he walks past me again, heading back the way he came. “Dinner’s in an hour.” Disapproving eyes scan me. “I’d suggest you wear something less conspicuous.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Trinity

  At the sound of the dinner bell, I swallow down a surprised yelp. I’m in the restroom washing my face after changing into jeans and a sweater. Not because of what Apollo had said, but because every time that dress moved against my skin I would either think about Cass or Reuben. And that would either make my skin crawl, or give me goosebumps. And not always in a logical order.

  I must have had a meltdown of epic proportions if I can’t keep straight what’s supposed to feel good, and what definitely should feel bad.

  I emerge from the restroom and immediately hang back as students stream into the hall from their rooms.

  When the bulk of them have disappeared down the stairs, I merge with the remaining few headed for the dining hall, doing my best to ignore how they keep looking back at me like I’m some creature everyone thought went extinct with the dodo.

  Extinction’s starting to look really good.

  For the first time since I arrived at Saint Amos, there’s a queue to get into the dining hall. I crane to see past the boys instead of falling in line.

  My mistake.

  “Follow me.”

  I flinch at Apollo’s voice. He’s headed in the opposite direction of the dining room. With a casual glance back in my direction, he beckons me to follow with a cock of his head.

  My choice is to follow him or to go stand in a long line while everyone stares at me.

  Apollo leads me outside the building and then around the back. We end up at the back door of the laundry. He takes out a set of keys and unlocks the door, ushering me inside with a hand on the small of my back.

  Then he unlocks a metal door set in the side of the room beside one of the massive steel basins and leads me into the small courtyard I was in earlier today.

  Seems like a century ago.

  He closes the door behind us. “See, I can be nice too,” he says right by my ear.

  A cluster of candles illuminates the concrete table and the two silver domes on top of it. A jug and two glasses stand to one side of the serving dishes, beads of water condensing on the side.

  “Couldn’t risk bringing any wine,” he continues, snagging my wrist as he walks past, tugging me after him. Then he slips something out from behind his belt. “But I got something to keep us warm.”

  He flashes me a silver flask, takes a sip, and then hands it over.

  I wave it away. “You did this for me?”

  “The candles give it away?” he says through a playful smirk.

  I smile, but then immediately school my expression into disinterest. I bet he expects a kiss for going to all this effort.

  Well…it’s kind of romantic, what with the candles and everything. I push away the thought, ignoring the heat creeping onto my cheeks.

  I really am a blasphemous little slut.

  “Well? What d’ya think?”

  “It’s lovely, thank you.”

  There’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Is he planning something, or is it just the candlelight?

  Apollo offers me the canteen again. This time I don’t say no.

  Despite having invited me out here for what I assume is some kind of date, Apollo doesn’t say another word until our plates are empty. Dinner is accompanied by
crickets chirping in the dark corners of the courtyard while cutlery scrapes against crockery.

  Apollo grins at me as he collects our empty dishes, and tosses his hair from his eyes with a flick of his head. “I’ll be right back,” he says before disappearing into the kitchen.

  I tip the flask against my lips, clearing my throat after the fiery liquid scorches its way into my stomach as I consider my next move. I could use this time alone with Apollo to my advantage. He must know how Zachary and Reuben ended up in the basement. Can I persuade him to tell me?

  Apollo comes back with two bowls and sets one down beside me. I snag his jeans before he can move away. He wears them baggy, but thankfully they’re not falling halfway down his ass like some of the boys I’ve seen in the mall.

  “Why don’t you come sit here?” I pat the stone stool closest to me. He hesitates, and then sets his bowl next to mine before taking his seat.

  He studies me with a small frown.

  I have zero experience in seduction, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. I dig my spoon into my chocolate mousse and raise it to his lips.

  He just keeps staring at me.

  My cheeks grow warmer the longer he leaves me hanging. By the time he moves, I feel like I’m melting. But thankfully he eventually ducks forward and cleans my spoon.

  “Rube’s not a nice guy,” he says as he leans back and brushes his hair from his face.

  “I didn’t say anything about—”

  “People assume a lot.” He points at me. “People like you.” He points at the bowl of mousse and opens his mouth for another serving.

  I resist the urge to jam the spoon down his throat. “I’m sorry I’m so transparent. And you’re right. I do think Reuben is a good guy.”

  He chuckles at me. “That’s because he’s been practicing being nice for years now.”

  “Well he’s definitely got the hang of it,” I say, another heaped spoon accompanying the statement. My heart thumps a little harder. “How did he end up there anyway? Was he kidnapped too?”

  “He didn’t exactly wander in off the street, now did he?”

  I frown, but I don’t get a chance to speak.

  “Listen, pretty thing. There’s something you have to understand about us. We’re not just a ‘bunch of friends.’” His air quotes are rife with condescension. “Something happened to us in that basement.” He quickly lifts a hand, as if expecting me to interrupt him. “Over and above a bunch of pedophiles repeatedly sticking their dicks in us.”

  My skin grows cold at his callous words.

  “They broke us, Trin.” His voice becomes thick and rough. “Broke us into a million fucking pieces. But we picked ourselves—each other—up.”

  His sorrow cuts the nerves to my hand and my spoon tinkles when it hits the side of the bowl. Apollo takes the spoon without missing a beat.

  “I reckon we got some of those pieces mixed up when we picked them up.” He scoops out a spoonful of mousse. I half-expect him to eat it, but instead he brings it to my lips.

  We stay like that for a beat, him staring into my eyes as I get sucked right back into his.

  Eyes as deep, dark, and dismal as the bottom of a well.

  I eat the mousse. He keeps talking.

  “So when we put the pieces together, we got a bit of each other too.” He frowns hard as the mousse starts to melt in my mouth. “Does that make sense?”

  I nod, because it does.

  It makes so much fucking sense it scares me.

  It explains why they’re so close. The horrors they experienced, they shared, wove them together like a rug. Those strands, strong in their own right, became even stronger.

  He scoops out more mousse and brings it close, but not close enough.

  I lean in a little.

  “We’re not friends. We’re brothers. A brotherhood. And the only way you’re weaseling your way in is if we let you.” Apollo smears mousse over my mouth with a flick of his hand.

  His eyes drop to my lips.

  I reach up instinctively to wipe it away but he snatches my wrist and draws it into his lap. Then he ducks forward and sucks the mousse from my lips.

  Heat floods my body.

  I try to lean into what I think is a kiss, but he drops his mouth to my chin, then the side of my jaw, then my ear.

  “There’s something else you should know, pretty thing.”

  I freeze at the sinister tone in his voice. He moves my hand deeper into his lap, until I brush against something long and hard.

  He nips my ear. “We’ll never be jealous of each other, because we always share our toys.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Trinity

  I’m staring up at the ceiling later that night, toying with my curls as I try to make sense of the day, when Jasper slips into our room.

  I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few weeks awake while everyone else was sleeping with thoughts swirling around my head like water going down a drain.

  It never gets any less frustrating, especially when I know sleep could whisk me away to peaceful oblivion for a few hours.

  “Hey,” I greet him, going onto my elbows.

  Jasper walks stiffly over to his bed, kneels on the mattress, and lowers himself down with his back to me.

  “Everything okay?” I ask. Pretending not to know what happened to him is as difficult as straight-up lying.

  “Fucking peaches,” he mutters back.

  I wince in sympathy, and then I’m glad it’s dark and he’s not facing me because I’d probably have given myself away.

  My ointment is still in my top drawer. Should I leave it out and hope he notices it, or did Miriam give him his own bottle?

  Twenty lashes.

  Should have been thirty.

  No one can survive thirty.

  Fuck.

  “I know you got lashes,” Jasper says.

  I sit up straight. “What—why would you think that?”

  “For the drawing,” he says without turning to face me.

  My heart is suddenly beating too fast. “What drawing?”

  Jasper maneuvers around until he’s facing me. If it wasn’t for the moonlight streaming through our tiny window, I wouldn’t have seen him rolling his eyes at me.

  “The one of Rutherford banging you.”

  I say nothing as my cheeks start to warm up.

  I’d forgotten about Cass’s prank. “Yeah. So what?”

  “He likes it, you know.”

  “What, the drawing?”

  “Beating people,” Jasper says through a world-weary sigh. “He gets off on it.”

  He…what? I’ve heard some strange things before, but that? It doesn’t make any sense. And Zachary might be cold and calculating, but…a sadist?

  “I don’t think he—”

  “He loves beating people as much as he hates gays.” The whites of Jasper’s eyes shine in the moon’s silver glow. “If you don’t believe me, try telling him you’re a lesbian. You won’t be sitting for a week.”

  Jasper turns around again.

  Even if I could speak, what the fuck am I supposed to say to that?

  I need air.

  I’m already in my pajamas—yoga pants and a tank top—so I grab my threadbare dressing gown from the foot of the bed where it keeps my feet warm in this ice-box of a room, shove my feet into the fur-lined boots I use as slippers, and shuffle out of the door.

  For a while after dinner there was quite a lot of traffic in the hallway. Boys coming and going, laughing and roughhousing. But now all the doors are closed, and the passage is quiet.

  Cass came by about half an hour after I’d gotten into bed. It was the first time I’d heard him call ‘lights out’ since I’ve arrived. I’d almost peed myself at the thought that he would slip into my room, but I guess he wouldn’t risk it in case Jasper was there.

  I use the restroom before heading back to my room.

  I feel sorry for Jasper. It sucks that he and Perry ended up in a pla
ce like this, where their relationship is considered a cardinal sin. I wish I could tell him Zachary doesn’t feel that way.

  Maybe Jasper and Perry can be open about who they are when they leave Saint Amos. I’ve never had an issue with other people’s sexuality. If you love someone, truly love someone, then things like gender shouldn’t matter.

  That’s the one thing I’d admired about my parents. You could tell they were wholly devoted to each other. They weren’t passionate lovers or anything like that—I’ve only heard them making love once, and it only lasted a few minutes. But they spent every moment they could together. I guess my mother’s miscarriages brought them closer together. They happened way before I was born, but I’m sure they played havoc on the marriage. Luckily they tried one last time before she had a hysterectomy, else I wouldn’t be here.

  To hear them tell it, God was the one who saw them through those dark times.

  I think it was love. A love so strong, it could survive anything. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that they chose each other—and God—over me the night of the accident. I was never included in that love triangle, because I was never as devoted to their faith as they were.

  Not for lack of trying. But no matter what I did, it never felt right.

  Father Gabriel would often try to rope me into conversations about God when he came to visit. He was subtle about it, and I give him credit for that. But even he could never convince me.

  I still went to church, of course. I still prayed when everyone else did.

  Gabriel’s coming back tomorrow.

  The thought makes my pulse beat a little faster.

  What do I do if I find out everything the Brotherhood’s been telling me is bullshit? Would Gabriel still take me under his wing after I doubted him? Or would he act like he did all those times I came right out and told him I didn’t believe?

  I can’t handle seeing that disappointment in his eyes again.

  Not now. Not after everything.