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

by Logan Fox

I walk past my room door without pausing.

  I don’t know if I can risk hurting my only friend. I need to make up my mind about Zachary and his brothers before Gabriel gets back.

  There’s only one way I can think to do that.

  I push back my shoulders, take a deep breath, and start down the stairs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zach

  I lost control today.

  It’s the girl.

  Trinity has a talent for tearing down the walls I’ve meticulously built up around my dark heart. When she’s around, I can’t forget how fucked up I am.

  Because of her, I lost control. Now the darkness doesn’t soothe me like it should, nor does the joint I just smoked envelop me in its usual mind-numbing fog.

  I feel sick, but not in a physical way. Times like this, it’s as if the disease in my mind is actual cancer, slowly spreading through my neurons.

  Infecting. Weakening. Killing.

  What will happen when my sanity is gone? When there’s nothing left to hold onto? When I can’t slow down the clock?

  The things I did today were supposed to give me more time. But instead of resetting that fateful countdown clock chiming out the minutes till my next breakdown, everything I did today sped it up.

  Hurting Cassius.

  Our fistfight.

  Punishing Jasper.

  That last one I’m particularly pissed about. It should have been Miriam, that steward of righteous repentance, doling out his punishment. But I thought it would tame the demon clawing its way up from hell through my body, so I did it instead.

  I struck him over and over again, punishing him for something I don’t consider a crime.

  There’s a faint noise from outside.

  Have one of my brothers returned to our nest? They know better than to disturb me when I’ve gone dark.

  Something could have happened. Something important.

  Or maybe they’re in as much need of solitude as I am right now. Rube comes here for the quiet sometimes. Just sits on the couch and stares at nothing as he rubs his thumb over his rosary.

  Not his anymore.

  But does that change anything?

  I have to get up and confront whatever—whoever—it is, but I don’t trust myself yet.

  Maybe I never will.

  Orange light from one of the lamps on the other side of the partition spills through.

  Something’s wrong.

  My brothers know the dark soothes me. They might dare to come close, but they wouldn’t risk provoking me.

  I rally myself, calling back the tendrils of my mind from the far-away places they drift to when I don’t keep them contained. It takes effort, and time.

  By then, I can hear soft noises as the invader starts hunting. Tins rattle. Clothes rustle.

  I push into a sit and hang my head between my knees for a moment. The cool air slides against my bare back as I breathe deep and try to center myself before standing.

  I head for the edge of the curtain, the padded floor masking my footsteps, and zone in on the sound of a tin rattling. Sliding a finger behind the curtain, I part it far enough to see a sliver of the room beyond.

  My chest tightens painfully.

  I’m suddenly too aware of the slow thump-thump-thump of my heart.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  I shouldn’t go out there.

  She’s a blast of warm air to the glowing coals of my mind, and everything around us is mere tinder.

  But I guess I like the flames, because I slip out of the dark anyway.

  I’ve always liked the flames.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trinity

  There’s nothing here. I thought they’d have hidden things between their clothes and porno mags and booze and cigarettes.

  But there’s nothing. Nothing!

  Everything here has a purpose. Not a single object is decorative or sentimental.

  It’s fucking creepy.

  I guess it was stupid of me to think they’d leave anything incriminating lying around.

  I’m just about to leave when I spot the corner of a book sticking out under a heap of clothes.

  My bible.

  I pull it out, running my palm over the cover as I trace the embossed letters with my fingers.

  I’m about to open it and take out the photo of my father I’m hoping is still inside when the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

  “Find anything interesting?” Zachary asks, his voice inches from my ear.

  I spin around with a strangled gasp, clutching the thick bible to my chest like a shield. But it falls from nerveless fingers when I see his face.

  He catches it absently before it can hit the floor, and sets it down on the shelf behind me.

  Dead eyes the color of pond algae regard me for long moments before he leans forward and rests his palms on the shelf. First one hand, then the other, boxing me in.

  It’s strange seeing him bare-chested in a pair of jeans. It feels wrong. A sinful kind of wrong. But when I try to look away, my gaze darts to the tattoo on his pec before I can force myself to look up at him. The combination of that sinister tattoo and his dead eyes is chilling.

  “I was—”

  “Lost?” he rasps as he narrows his eyes. “Browsing? Spying? Tell me if I’m getting warmer.”

  I’m trembling inside. His proximity, his intensity…it’s too much. I can barely breathe. But instead of bowing my head and begging him for forgiveness, I shove my nose into the air and glare up at him.

  “I’m taking you on your word about all of this,” I say. I lift up a finger. “You couldn’t give me a shred of proof. But I’m willing to give you guys a chance, anyway.”

  “Liar.” He lets out a long sigh that shifts strands of hair against my face. He ducks down, leaning in until his nose is almost brushing mine. “If you believed us, you’d be snug in your little bed right now, not wandering around sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  I have to cleave my tongue from the roof of my mouth before I can speak. “Fuck you! I do belong here.”

  We frown at each other.

  “I mean, I have every right to be here. I have every right to ask questions. You can’t expect blind faith from me.”

  He throws back his head and laughs. When he looks at me again, my body goes cold. That crazy laugh didn’t add a single degree of warmth to his dead eyes.

  “Do you honestly think we live in a world where you have rights?” He arches against me, pressing me into the ridge of the shelf. I wince, but quickly smooth my face.

  Don’t show a flicker of what you’re feeling, Trinity. Cass says they can read me like a book? Well it’s time I closed the goddamn cover.

  “Of course I have—”

  “Wrong,” he cuts in, grabbing my jaw. “This is the real world. And in the real world, you’re not special, Trinity.” His eyes grow hooded. “None of us are.”

  I grab his wrist. He’s too strong for me to pull him away but at least this way I can feel his pulse.

  It should be racing, like mine.

  But it’s dead calm.

  Fear worms deep into me and starts squirming around in my intestines like a fat snake.

  I didn’t expect anyone to be here. I could have sworn they’d said it was risky staying out here. That they all went back to the dorms at night. But I guess he couldn’t go back reeking of weed and booze like he does. Or with that purplish bruise on his jaw. He’s in no state to be seen outside of these walls.

  And I’m not safe down here with him.

  “I should leave,” I say.

  “You should never have come.” He ducks lower, his glare pinning me like a butterfly to a corkboard. “Tell me, little girl, why did you come?”

  He’d see right through me if I lied. And honestly, how much worse could I make this?

  “Because I don’t trust you. Any of you.” I swallow hard and muster up every bit of courage I have left. “But you can change that. Tell me. Tell
me everything.”

  His lips quirk into a dark smile. “Everything?” he murmurs.

  He tucks a curl behind my ear before trailing his fingers down my jaw. It shouldn’t, but that touch sends a thrill down my spine.

  It could be fear masquerading as something else, but I have a feeling it’s not. I’m trapped in the lion’s den and instead of looking for a way out, I’m poking the fucking lion.

  I know Father Gabriel isn’t capable of hurting anyone. But that doesn’t matter to the Brotherhood, does it? I’ve been drawn into their war, despite my protests.

  I don’t have a choice but to fight but I’m going to make sure I’m on the right side of the battle line first.

  “You couldn’t handle hearing what happened to us in one day, never mind the years we spent down there,” Zachary says.

  “We? It’s always we.” I poke him right between the dripping fangs of his snake tattoo. “I want to know about you. I want to know what kind of person you are. How else can I trust you?”

  He laughs. “You want to know what kind of person I am, Trinity?”

  The only warning I have is the darkness shadowing his eyes as he scans my body.

  Zachary grabs me, spins me, shoves me.

  Hard.

  I tumble over the arm of the couch, barely stopping myself from bouncing onto the floor. Expecting him to pounce on me—perhaps even try what Cass tried—I scramble into a sit. But he just stands there watching me, his chest heaving like he went three rounds with the world champion.

  “I used to think I was a good person, back when I was a kid.” His hands curl into fists and then open again as he steps closer. “Thought I’d become something great. Astronaut, doctor. The usual shit kids fantasize about.”

  In my fantasies, I was a ballerina. But my parents made it clear that the only career they approved of was me becoming someone’s wife and, eventually, someone’s mother.

  It didn’t faze me that much. I was probably too short to be a ballerina anyway.

  Zachary moves to the front of the couch. And I stay right where I am, because for the first time since I’ve been pressing him for information about his past, I’m actually getting what I want.

  So instead of bolting, I pull my legs into my chest, hugging myself as he stands in front of me.

  Does he like towering over people? My neck’s already aching from craning up to look at him.

  “So what happened? What changed?”

  There’d been a faint smile on his mouth. It fades as his hands slowly unfurl again.

  “You really want to know?”

  I nod.

  He inhales deep and lets out everything as a long sigh through his nose. “There’s something I want, too.”

  His smile returns.

  I wish it hadn’t.

  It makes my stomach coil.

  “But you’re not going to like it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zach

  No one’s ever shown such interest in my past. My brothers already know everything, and we’re not exactly the type to sit around a campfire trading anecdotes. Not any that touch on the basement, anyway.

  So what is her ulterior motive? Why is she still here?

  “Deal?” It says a lot that I’d give her a chance to back out.

  She nods.

  It’s possible Trinity doesn’t fully comprehend what she’s agreed to. Not because she’s dumb—far from it—but because she’s literally that naive.

  “Get up.”

  She stands, her eyes not staying on mine longer than a second before flickering away.

  She should be nervous.

  I move behind the couch and pat the headrest. She visibly steels herself, lifting her chin and pushing out her chest before following.

  When she’s close enough, I grab her hips and shove her into the back of the couch. My cock stiffens at her surprised gasp. It’s still a long way from being hard, but just the thought of what I’m about to do to her sweet, innocent little ass has my body readying itself.

  “Hold on.”

  She hesitates and then spreads her arms, digging her fingers into the headrest’s cushion.

  “Like thi—?”

  I grab her dressing gown and yank it off her shoulders, letting it pool by her feet. When I grab the waistband of her yoga pants she tries to move away, but a shove to the small of her back keeps her in place.

  “Do they have to come off?” she asks in a tight voice.

  “Obviously.” I yank down her pants, baring her panties. My fingers itch to delve inside her underwear, to touch her…but that’s not what we agreed.

  I could have left her pants around her knees, but instead I draw them down all the way to her feet. I slip off her boots and slide her pants off, tossing them over the back of the couch.

  When I touch the elastic of her panties, she stiffens. “Please,” she murmurs. “Leave them on.”

  I should have ripped them off, but I fight back the urge. That thin film of fabric is inconsequential. If I want to admire my handiwork, I can do that when we’re done.

  “Spread your legs.”

  When she doesn’t obey, I kick them open for her. I run a hand over the curve of her ass and then up her plump cheek, massaging the flesh beneath.

  She shifts again. “What are you doing?”

  I’m not about to educate this girl on the intricacies of spanking. “Is that your first question?”

  She shivers under my hand as she gives her head a violent shake.

  My cock stiffens even more.

  I take off my belt, willing myself to move slowly so I can warm up her cool flesh and bring enough blood to the surface.

  It’s surprisingly difficult not to rush this part. The anticipation of hurting her is making me salivate.

  I fold my belt in half and then again. I move close to her, my now straining cock brushing the curve of her ass as I reach around and press open her jaw with my fingers.

  “Bite.”

  “Don’t I get to ask my question first?”

  I slap her ass with the flat of my hand.

  She lets out an indignant yelp and glares at me over her shoulder. I hold up my hand, showing her my reddened palm, and her scowl fades a little. She opens her mouth and accepts the belt when I shove it between her pink lips.

  “Face forward.”

  Usually, I wouldn’t be bothered if she was making eye contact or not but I can’t pretend she’s a meek sub if she keeps glaring at me like that.

  “This, then your question.”

  When she doesn’t say anything, I smack her ass again.

  “I need a yes, little girl.”

  Her shoulders stiffen, but she doesn’t protest the name-calling. Maybe she’s finally starting to accept just what a fucked up deal she’s struck with me.

  Soon, she’ll be begging me to stop, and this will all be over. Questions unanswered, I’ll send her back to her dorm, a newfound fear embedded inside her.

  Deep, deep inside her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Trinity

  What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Trading slaps for intel? You’d swear I’d been dropped on my head as a kid. From the third floor.

  My ass is already throbbing from the two smacks Zachary delivered. Fuck knows how I’m supposed to survive more.

  But that’s not what’s bothering me the most about this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear this was turning me on.

  Which is ridiculous, of course. What the hell is sexy about having a belt shoved in my mouth? Or the way I’m drooling around the leather? Or the fact that I’m standing here in my underwear, waiting for him to start spanking me?

  But if this is what it takes to get the answers I need—

  My teeth sink into Zachary’s belt as a hard slap thumps onto my ass cheek. I’m so surprised, I don’t even cry out.

  Whipping my head around, I stare at him with shocked eyes. I reach to take the belt out of my mouth so I can tell him he’s hitting
me too hard, but I don’t get very far.

  I catch one glimpse of the dark lust in his hooded eyes before he grabs the back of my neck and pushes me down again.

  The next time his hand connects with my ass, I scream.

  When I start squirming, he tightens the grip on my neck.

  Slap. Slap. Slap!

  I yell out wordlessly and grab his wrist, trying to pull his hand off my neck so I can straighten.

  He steps back, and I stagger to my feet.

  I snatch my yoga pants from the back of the couch. He doesn’t stop me. My breath hitches as I try to ignore the stings on my backside.

  “Fuck!”

  “All right there, little girl?”

  I grimace at him. “That was five,” I tell him breathlessly. Well, technically it was seven, but I have a feeling the first two didn’t count.

  “So ask your question.”

  I lick my lips. “How did you end up in the basement?”

  A massive erection bulges behind his jeans.

  How can anyone enjoy hurting someone else? Even though I said yes, this is just…it’s fucked up.

  I guess Jasper was right. Zachary is a sadist.

  He cocks his head a little. “Too vague.”

  I frown at him as I slide a cool hand behind my underwear. My skin feels hot to the touch, and stings when I touch it. How much will it hurt putting my pants back on? For now, I keep them bundled against my stomach.

  “Who took you there, to the basement? How did they catch you?”

  “That’s two questions.”

  I grind my teeth. “Who took you to the basement?”

  A fond look crosses his face. “My parents.”

  “W-what?”

  “Is that your next question?”

  “N-No. But…you have to explain. I mean…your parents?”

  He surges forward, grabs my hips, and flips me over. I claw at his arms as he tries to pin me but somehow, he gets a hold of my wrists and holds them against the small of my back.

  When he kicks open my legs again, my stomach bottoms out.