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

by Logan Fox

  “Where do you want to—” I begin.

  “Right here. Right now.” Trinity plants her ass on the couch opposite to the one I was sitting on, putting a small coffee table between us. Then she spends a few seconds rearranging her robe, as if she doesn’t dare let me get a peek at her legs.

  “Fine.” I sit again, run my palms down my thighs, and wish my heart didn’t feel like it missed every other beat.

  And then Rube leaves. I stare at his retreating back, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline.

  So much for moral support.

  “Can we hurry this up?” Trinity says.

  I turn back to her, my lips thinning. But then I remember what Rube said before he went into the bathroom to talk to her.

  Don’t let her get in your head.

  He doesn’t know she’s been in there since day one. Wasn’t able to get her out back then, sure as fuck won’t be happening now.

  I start off the only way I know how. “I’m sorry.”

  She sniffs, crosses her legs, and stares out the window at the black ocean. There’s a moon out tonight, so the beach glows under its pale light, but I’m sure she’s watching the waves. They’re hypnotic at night.

  But nothing compares to her.

  With her eyes off me, I have a rare opportunity to study her. Her dark curls, heavy with water, cling to the side of her neck. I want nothing more than to peel it away and lick up the beads of water it will leave behind.

  With the apology out of the way, I can get onto the good stuff.

  “I’m not going to defend what I did. Or try and reason with you. It was wrong. Dead wrong. And I shouldn’t have done it. But I can’t go back. I can’t change what I did.”

  But she says nothing. Just keeps staring out the window.

  “Trinity.”

  I bite my tongue, keeping back another prompt.

  When she finally turns to me, her amber eyes are fucking luminescent. “That’s it?” she murmurs. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have done it. That’s your apology?”

  I open my mouth, but she doesn’t give me a chance to speak.

  “You’re right, Zach. You can’t change the past. But what’s stopping you from doing it again? Leaving them again?”

  “I just said—”

  Wait…Them?

  That’s what this is about? She’s pissed because I left my brothers behind?

  I frown at her, stand, hesitate. And she tips back her head to stare at me, as if daring me to walk away from the conversation.

  Because that will be the end of it. Then I might as well keep walking until I’m out the fucking door.

  I move around the coffee table, slow so she doesn’t bolt. And she lets me sit next to her, which is the closest I’ve been since I shoved her out of the way of Gabriel’s bullet.

  “I was protecting them,” I tell her. I reach for her, but she pulls back, eyes slitting warily. “I’d…” I trail off, and then it’s my turn to look away because I’m not sure I can bring myself to tell her the next part. Not if I’m still trying to get her to trust me.

  “You what? Thought they’d be better off without you? That they’d just go on with their lives?” She twists, facing me, her knees knocking against mine. Then she stabs a finger into my chest, ruthless, no concern for the scar less than an inch away.

  “If that’s the case, then you should never have come back because it’s obvious you don’t give a fuck about them.”

  I open my mouth. She cuts me off.

  “If you did, you wouldn’t have left them when they needed you the most. They almost got killed, and that’s on you.”

  I can’t take another stab in my chest, so I grab her wrist. But as gently as I can, only tightening my grip when she tries to tug her arm free.

  “You almost got killed too,” I tell her. “Or did you forget?”

  My brothers told me she had a bout of amnesia when she came out of the anesthesia. According to them, her memories all came back. But she’s acting like she has no fucking clue what almost happened back then.

  If she had died…

  Her pulse throbs under my thumb. Quick, strong. She’s angry, but she’s keeping it under control. I guess we’ve both learned some tricks the past few months.

  Her eyes flick left, right. “We’re alone now,” she whispers fiercely, leaning in close enough to kiss. “You can drop the act.”

  My heart slams into my rib cage. Before I can stop myself, I’m grinding her wrist bones together.

  She winces, and then a spark of victory lights up her eyes. “They’ll believe anything you tell them, Zach, but you showed me your true colors. And I can’t unsee that.”

  And then it hits me.

  She’s talking about the knife. What I said when I told her to leave.

  I drop my head, huff. “Fuck,” I murmur.

  She huffs too. “Yeah, fuck.” Then she pulls her hand out of my grip and gets to her feet. “I won’t ever let you hurt them again. Not now, not ever. And if that means you’ll always hate me, then you’d better strap in, because it’s gonna be a bumpy fucking ride.”

  Trinity moves to walk past me, but then I’m standing, my body a wall she can’t pass. She rears back, glaring up at me, mouth opening.

  I don’t give her a chance to speak.

  She makes an angry sound when I grab her wrist and force her hand against my heart, pushing her palm flush against the thick scar left behind by my surgery.

  “You’re wrong about a lot of things,” I tell her.

  “Am I?” she mutters, trying to pull her hand away.

  “You were wrong to forgive Gabriel.”

  She ducks her head, laughs bitterly. “Oh my God.”

  “You were wrong to forgive your parents.”

  Her head snaps back, her plump mouth distorting into a snarl. I don’t try and stop when she slaps my face with her free hand, but then I grab it too, press that against my chest.

  “And you’re wrong not to forgive me.”

  “You don’t get to decide who—”

  “You want the truth? I told you to leave that morning because I couldn’t stand the sight of you anymore.”

  She gapes at me, indignant, but far from incredulous. How she saw this coming, I don’t know. I guess I got my point across better than I thought the morning Gabriel snatched her from Saint Amos.

  “You make me sick, Trinity.”

  Hurt flashes in her eyes.

  That tiny spark of pain reminds me of the beast I harbor inside my mind. The one that seeks out violence and chaos…and vulnerability.

  That’s all it takes.

  Just one spark.

  And I’m done.

  I can never hurt her again. Never bring her pain again. Not like this. I wasn’t going to carry on talking. I was going to leave her with those bitter words. But for the first time in my fucking life, I want to ease her pain. Even if it denies me the thing I’ve always craved so deeply.

  But she has to understand.

  I slam her hand into my chest. “Every time I looked at you, my heart would twist. Every time you came close, my skin would go cold.” I manipulate her hand, bringing it up to my cheek. Not the one she slapped—that one’s still stinging, but the other.

  I press her knuckles to my flesh and will her to feel that chill.

  “Every time we were together, the five of us, I felt like I was dying.”

  Slow realization turns her bronze-dark eyes to bright amber.

  “So yeah, I told you to leave. I shouldn’t have, it was selfish as fuck, but when I thought about how I felt around you…a sadist like me…I couldn’t even imagine how you made them feel.”

  I glance past her, to where my brothers said they’d wait.

  “So I made you leave. And I told myself I was doing the right thing.” I shake my head, let go of her hands. “That we’d be better off if you were gone.”

  Her hands drop to her sides. The hurt is back in her eyes, but it’s different. It doesn’t fuel me like it
should.

  I clear my throat. Rake fingers through my hair.

  “When I realized how wrong I was…that’s when I came back. And it was wrong. I shouldn’t have pushed you away from them, Trinity. It wasn’t my decision to make.”

  She stares up at me, silent, barely blinking. Her chest rises as she takes a deep breath, but she exhales without saying anything.

  “And what I’ve been trying to tell you…” I look down, reach for her hands.

  I wait for her to pull away so I can turn and leave.

  She doesn’t.

  Trinity lets me take her hands again. Does nothing as I lace my fingers with hers. As I pull her a little closer.

  I clear my throat again.

  “I’m waiting,” she says.

  I start to growl at her impatience, but I check myself immediately.

  Swallow. Fucking breathe.

  “I don’t forgive you, Trinity Malone. I don’t think I ever can.”

  Her eyes go wide. Her fingers tighten around mine. “What?” she says, but it’s barely a whisper.

  “I was broken before I met you. Broken, and selfish. And I was happy not giving a fuck about anyone but myself.” I tug her the last bit, until her body’s pressed against mine. “Then you came along, and you fixed me. You made me feel again. I’d promised myself I’d never be scared again. And then I met you.”

  I shake loose one of my hands, then the other. I finally get to peel the strands of wet hair from her throat, and run my thumbs down the side of her neck.

  “And now I’m terrified all the fucking time.”

  She puts her hands over mine, her lips parting. “Zach, I didn’t—”

  “I love you, Trinity. But I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”

  Her eyes are limpid, glowing.

  I duck my head. Aim for her lips. And they part oh so fucking invitingly.

  But then a finger presses against my mouth, hard enough to push my head back. My eyes fly open, and I glare down at her as she puts her head to the side.

  “No.”

  A most familiar frustration rises inside me. “No?”

  “I don’t accept your apology.” She shrugs. “That was a good start,” she says, and then clears her fucking throat. “But it’s not enough.”

  “Christ, woman, what the hell—” I start.

  She puts her finger back on my mouth. “Nuh-uh.”

  I pull away. Bite down on my lip and pretend it’s hers instead.

  It doesn’t work.

  I want to rip her to shreds…and then plaster her back together with kisses. I’m trembling from the force of stopping myself lunging at her.

  She puts that same finger to her own lips, purses them. Cocks her head again. Taps her lips once, twice, three times.

  “What?” I growl, when she stays silent.

  “You must be tired,” she says.

  I shake my head. “Not even a little.”

  “You should rest.”

  She takes my hands, laces our fingers, and leads us toward the bedroom. And then my heart does that thing I hate so much—twisting in place before thumping around like a tooth in a loose socket.

  “Why didn’t you just say you wanted to fuck?” I tell her as I leer at her ass through the silk robe she’s wearing.

  She stops dead in her tracks, and turns to frown at me. “Who said that’s what I want?”

  I blink, exhale hard. “What?”

  She points at the bed. It’s a king-size, covered with pillows and furry blankets. A girl’s bed. “Sit.”

  I don’t like the mischievous light in her eyes. “Or what?”

  “Or you can leave, Zach.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Forever.”

  At first I think she’s dead calm about it, her face not even twitching…but then I see her hands. They’re in fists at her side.

  So I go over to the bed.

  I sit.

  And she smiles at me like I deserve a fucking treat.

  Trinity turns her head without taking her eyes off me, and calls out, “Guys? I need a hand.” And then, with a twist of her mouth, adds a reluctant, “Please.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Apollo

  “Shut it, would you?” I whisper, waving a hand behind me. “I can’t hear if you two keep yakking like that.”

  “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping in the first place,” Rube says.

  “Aw, leave the kid alone,” Cass says.

  I turn and scowl at Cass over my shoulder. “Kid?” I’m almost two years older than him.

  He smirks at me from where he’s lounging in the hot tub. He practically lives in the thing. I’m surprised he hasn’t sprouted scales yet.

  I put my ear back to the crack in the sliding door. Rube pulled it closed when he came back a few minutes ago, and then scolded me when I tried to open it.

  Zach and Trinity are talking so quietly, I can barely make out more than a word or two. It’s driving me nuts.

  “Apollo, chill,” Cass calls out.

  “Shh!” I hiss.

  There’s a splash, and the slap of wet feet on the deck. The balcony is covered in slats of wood that stretch all the way to the eight-seat hot tub. A yard away, the balcony ends with a glass railing so you can soak up the bubbles while staring out at the ocean.

  I fucking love this house.

  I’ve never loved anything as much in my life…

  Okay, that’s a lie.

  “...forgive you, Trinity Malone. I don’t think...”

  I strain to hear more.

  Screw this.

  I grab the sliding door. “I need the—” I begin.

  Rube lets out a low, “Not a chance,” a second before Cass grabs the door and slides it closed all the way.

  Right in my face.

  “Come on, man. I won’t bug them.”

  “Let them talk,” Rube says. He’s standing by the railing, leaning on crossed arms as he stares out at the ocean. He faces forward again as Cass splashes back into the hot tub.

  “Come and get in,” Cass says. “Knowing those two, this could take hours.”

  Hours?

  I sigh, and stand for a few more seconds by the door. I guess Zach will tell us everything anyway when they’re done…but how am I supposed to wait that long?

  As I’m about to turn around, I hear something.

  I’m right up against the door a second later.

  “What?” Cass demands behind me. “What is it?”

  I love you. But I won’t ever...

  I turn wide eyes to Cass, then to Rube, who’s facing me now.

  I creep away from the door like Zach and Trinity are the ones listening to us, and beckon Rube over when I reach the hot tub.

  He frowns, but walks over anyway.

  Cass glances up at him and then shields his eyes with a flat hand. “Dude, can you put on some shorts or something?”

  Rube is still wearing the towel he came out of the bathroom with. “How about you stop looking?”

  Cass rolls his eyes, and then trains them on me. “What did you hear?”

  “He said he loves her.” I step back, clapping my hands together in front of me as I wait for their response.

  Cass rolls his eyes again and mutters, “Christ, finally.”

  Rube looks like he turned to marble. “He said that? You’re sure?”

  I nod feverishly. “I know what I heard.”

  Rube shakes his head. “You must have—”

  “Jesus, Rube, don’t put on that act. We all fucking knew it.”

  Rube’s one eyebrow cocks up. “We did?” he says dryly.

  “Fucking obvious from day one. She pushes his buttons just right, and he loves that shit.”

  And Rube doesn’t argue, because I guess he did know. We all did, just like Cass said.

  Zach’s mental, but under all that repressed rage, and hate…he’s just a guy. It’s been brutal for us, even after we got out of that basement, and it fucked us up in different ways. Zach went on the offen
sive. He’d push people away the moment he saw them as a threat. To himself, to us—it didn’t matter, because to him, we’re one and the same.

  I’m so fucking glad he was the one who said it first. Because holy crap, I’ve been wanting to tell her that for a while now.

  Zach’s not our leader anymore. We don’t need that kind of structure. But maybe it was some kind of respect.

  Unspoken, but unanimous.

  I love that about us.

  We have an unbreakable bond, the four of us. With Trinity…

  I don’t know if she’ll ever be on the same level as us—mentally, emotionally—but we have the rest of our lives to figure it out. And I’m not going anywhere.

  Now that Zach’s told her how he feels…I’m pretty sure he’s not going anywhere either.

  “So you think she’ll let him upstairs?” I ask them.

  Cass rolls onto his back and sticks his toes out of the water, not bothering to humor me with a reply.

  “Don’t know,” Rube says. He comes closer, grabs my shoulder, squeezes. “But that’s her decision, not—”

  “Guys!”

  All three of us spin around to face the door. And I’m sure my heart isn’t the only one that goes thump at the sound of Trinity’s voice.

  “I need a hand.”

  Cass lets out such a delighted chuckle, the hair on my arms stands up. He jumps out of the hot tub, streaming water over the deck as he races for the door. We shove and push at each other, jostling for pole position, but all it takes is a disapproving rumble from Reuben to make us stop.

  We look back at him. Cass shrugs, mouthing, “What?”

  Rube holds up a finger.

  And then Trinity lets out a sulky, “Please.”

  Rube nods his head.

  All it takes is elbowing Cass in the stomach, then I’m the first through the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cass

  “You called,” I say, walking up behind Trinity and sliding my hand onto her shoulder. The black robe she’s wearing does all sorts of delicious things to my fingertips, especially when I trace her collarbones through the silky fabric.

  Zach is sitting on the edge of her bed, looking mighty out of place against the pale pink bedspread.