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

by Logan Fox

  Even Trinity.

  Maybe even Zach.

  Because instead of me or Zach speaking up, mapping out the next course of action, Trinity clears her throat and says, “We need to get cleaned up.”

  We’re on our feet in an instant, Cass and Zach heading for the corpse.

  “No. Leave him.” Trinity gets slowly to her feet and I scramble up a second later. She stares up at each of us in turn, and then pushes Apollo and me aside so she can see the dead man in the chair. “Leave the door open, and let the animals have him.”

  “That’s not safe—” Zachary begins.

  “Someone could identify—” Cass says right over him.

  Trinity holds up her hand again. “Pull out his teeth. Cut off his fingers. Take his clothes.” Her honey-gold eyes study us, and the faintest smile touches her full mouth. “God can decide where his bones will rest.”

  Chapter Two

  Trinity

  I was still groggy when the elevator opened into the penthouse suite of the hotel we’d booked for the night. Couldn’t stop myself from falling asleep in the car, especially since Reuben insisted on cradling me in his lap the entire way. They woke me up a few minutes ago and smuggled me through the hotel’s foyer—Cassius keeping the receptionist occupied so no one would see my dirty face.

  Zach doesn’t even wait for Reuben to bring me out of the elevator first. He swarms past all of us and heads straight for the master bedroom down the hall.

  I flinch when the door slams, and Apollo lets out a nervous laugh. “Think he’s packing his bags?”

  “He should,” Cass mutters under his breath as he heads for the open-floor kitchen a few yards away. “It’s a night for celebrating, not sulking.”

  I wriggle in Rube’s arms until he reluctantly puts me down. “He’ll come around.”

  Cass spins on his heels, eyes narrowed. “I admire your optimism, but sometimes even you have to admit when you’re wrong.”

  I’m tired. I’m dirty. And I feel strangely weightless at the same time. It’s surreal thinking we’re done. That it’s all finally over. But it’s as if there hasn’t been a second to feel the joy associated with such a momentous achievement…because Zach is hurting.

  Zach is always hurting.

  I don’t know what to do anymore. Cass is right—even I’m starting to tire of constantly hoping he’ll change. They say you should never get into a relationship with someone expecting to change them, but I can’t help that I fell in love with him.

  All of them.

  “I’m going to sleep,” I say, ignoring Cass’s imploring stare. He wants to argue, wants to debate, but I don’t have the energy. And I’m not the only one.

  Apollo slumps onto the closest couch and turns on the flat-screen television, one leg dangling over the side of the sofa, the other propped on the armrest. Reuben sighs and washes his hands over his face.

  Usually, we’d all be in bed right now…but no one would be sleeping. We used to celebrate every kill with a night of wild abandon, often staying up until the sun painted the horizon pink and orange.

  Before I get halfway down the hall, Zach slips out of the bedroom and pulls the door shut behind him. When he looks up and sees me, he stops.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I snap, stalking closer and shoving him out of the way when he tries to block me.

  He stumbles, and that catches me so off guard that I pause to glance back at him. But he rights himself an instant later, and then pushes away from the wall with a grimace.

  As I close the door behind me, I hear Zach say something that sounds like, “Give me ten,” but all sound cuts off the instant the bedroom is closed off from the rest of the suite.

  I lean my head against the wood for a second before dragging myself into the en-suite bathroom.

  Why did Zach leave the shower on?

  But I don’t bother trying to figure him out—I strip down and climb straight into the gushing water. The temperature is perfect. Most of my men like hot showers, but I can’t handle anything hotter than lukewarm. I immediately start washing my face and then move on to shampooing my hair, eager to get rid of every trace of blood covering my skin.

  When I hear the shower door sliding open, I splutter out a disgruntled, “Hey!” and try to blink through the suds streaming down my face. The shampoo immediately starts burning my eyes, of course, and that just pisses me off even more.

  Lately, I’ve barely had a handle on my emotions. Things that normally wouldn’t even annoy me, make it feel like the entire universe is conspiring against me. Which makes my men start creeping around me on tiptoes…which pisses me off even more.

  “Get out!” I punch out randomly, my eyes squeezed shut because I don’t want more soap in them.

  I hit solid flesh, but then someone wraps their hand around my wrist and tugs my arm away from them.

  “Get—”

  Fingers grab my chin and push up. Water hits my head, washing the shampoo from my hair. A hand swipes over my face, wiping away the suds clinging to my forehead and cheeks. Gentle hands. Soothing fingers. Rube or Cass, I’m sure.

  When I finally dare to open my eyes, my stomach twists.

  Through the steam and the spray of water, I see Zachary standing in front of me. Naked. Grim. Bloodstained.

  I quickly scan the rest of the bathroom, but it’s just the two of us. And it scares me, because Zach is still broken. He still can—and has—snapped. The meds help, of course, as does the counseling…but a Band-aid is never as good as stitches.

  “I’m done,” I say, trying to sidestep him. “It’s all yours.”

  “But it’s not, is it?” Hands slide around my waist, and I instantly stop moving. Zach’s fingers caress the curve of my belly, his dark green eyes moving down my body as he steps closer, drawing me into an embrace.

  Is he talking about me, or Malachi? My heart picks up speed—suddenly all I want to do is yell out for the others, to have them close in case Zach acts on the dark promise of those words.

  “Malachi is yours, Zach,” I say, laying my trembling hands over his as he wraps me in his arms. “And I’m yours too…if you want me.”

  “You know that’s not true,” he growls into my ear. “That’s never been true.”

  A hard lump lodges in my throat. Pressure builds behind my eyes, and I don’t know if I want to cry or scream. “Zach—”

  “I’ll never be okay with that,” he says.

  My chest is so tight, I can’t breathe. “I never meant—”

  “But it’s fit in or fuck off, right?” His hands glide up to grip the back of my neck, drawing my head away and forcing me to look into his eyes. “That’s how it’s always been.”

  What am I supposed to say? I mutely shake my head, my mouth working as my mind reels.

  Something in his face changes. The darkness in his eyes draws back, the tightness around his mouth eases. He blinks, staring down at me as if he’s only now seen me for the first time in his life.

  Goosebumps break out over my skin, and it has nothing to do with the water, or our proximity, or even the fact that I can feel his dick growing hard between us.

  “That’s how it’s always been, right from the start.” He frowns, his gaze latching onto my mouth. “We forced you to fit in. Made you take all of us. Didn’t allow you to choose. Would you have, if you could?” He strokes wet ribbons of hair from my face, cupping me in his hands. “Who would you have chosen, if we’d given you a choice down there in Saint Amos’s library?”

  I shake my head, but he tightens his hands to stop the motion.

  “Come on,” he murmurs, dropping his head lower, staring deeper into my eyes. “It’s just us. No one else will ever know.”

  My eyes dart between his as I try and read his motives. Because that’s something I learned about Zach many years ago—he always has an agenda.

  “No one,” I say.

  He blinks, confusion flickering over his face. “None of us?”

  “I wasn’t loo
king for anyone—or anything—when I arrived at Saint Amos,” I tell him, reaching up and grabbing hold of his wrists. “I’d just lost my parents.” My voice hitches, but I soldier on, determined to get done with what I need to say before he interrupts me again. “I was hurting. Alone. Terrified.” My eyes narrow. “And then I found you four. You want to know who I wanted? Not a single one of you.” My words pick up speed, my voice leveling out and growing stronger. “You scared the living shit out of me. All of you. Psychos, stalkers, deviants.”

  I dig my fingers so deep into his skin that I’m sure it’ll leave a mark. Zach doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, then he doesn’t care. He seems fixated on me, on what I’m saying, and that’s all I need. Because the others will realize he’s not with them, and they’ll come looking for me. For us.

  Give me ten.

  Except if they agreed they wouldn’t.

  A chill courses through me. It almost snatches me under, but I fight it.

  He wants to know? Well, there’s no time like the present.

  I slap my hand against his bare chest, pushing at him to try and make room between us, but he barely moves.

  “We scared you?” he prompts, his eyes devouring me like he’s getting some kind of perverted pleasure from my words.

  “Of course you did. But that was your plan, wasn’t it? Because if I was scared, then I’d do whatever you wanted me to.”

  “How scared were you?”

  “I could barely breathe.”

  “And when we fucked you that first time? Did that scare you too?” His lips quirk as if he’s suppressing a smile.

  I was so wrong about him. We haven’t made progress. If anything, his visits to the psychiatrist were probably all just some twisted game he was playing. He does that, Zachary. He plays games with everyone in his life. Not the kind where he has opponents, but the kind a little kid plays with a dollhouse. He controls all the people inside that miniature house, staging them just the way he wants, mimicking whatever twisted world view he holds inside his mind.

  But I’ve had enough. He’s been pushing for years, but this is going too far.

  “I’m not your fucking doll,” I hiss, shoving him hard.

  He sways, and I take that brief moment to try and slip past him. But he’s too fast. Too strong.

  Always has been.

  Always will be.

  An arm slides around my throat. Zach pulls me up against him, my back rubbing against his wet chest. Now it’s impossible to ignore the rock-hard cock between us.

  Violence excites him. It breathes life into him.

  Even the promise of it.

  He was so rough with me the day we’d located Adam that Rube gave him a black eye and told him if he ever touched me like that again, he’d kill him.

  But they’re not here now. It’s just me and Zach and the pounding water…

  And Malachi.

  “Zach, please. Calm down!” I grab onto his arm, tugging at it.

  Which is when I realize he’s not gripping me tight enough to cut off air—just enough to hold me in place.

  His other hand grasps roughly at my breast, tweaking my nipple between finger and thumb hard enough to make me gasp.

  “Want to know a little secret?” he whispers in my ear, his hand moving down my belly. “Those times you were so scared…I knew it. I could feel it, taste it, smell it coming off your skin.”

  “Zach.”

  “Like now. You’re scared now. I can feel you shaking.”

  I swallow hard. “Please.”

  His hand moves lower, cupping my belly. Going around and around like I have a tummy ache he’s trying to soothe. I want to laugh, want to yell out that it’s his kid inside me, not fucking indigestion.

  Has he lost touch with reality? Does he even understand what’s happening? He must—he’s not a fucking idiot—but does he really, truly understand? We’re bringing a baby into the world, him and I. All of us. How the fuck did he expect the killing to continue? Would we eventually be taking Malachi with us on our hunts? Have him take turns with the binoculars as we scoped out a suspect’s house?

  Just how the fuck was this all supposed to play out?

  But I don’t get a chance to ask. Zach’s hand moves down, his mouth pressed hard against my ear as he ducks to reach my pussy. He shoves his hand between my leg and drags his fingers over my slit so hard that I can feel the scrape of his fingernails.

  A shudder spills through me. My traitorous body responds instantly to his rough touch, coating his fingers with my warm, slick arousal.

  “I love it when you’re scared, and you want to know why?”

  “Because you’re fucked in the head.”

  He laughs, his chest pushing against me, forcing me closer to the wall. We move out of the range of the water, but he doesn’t turn it off. It hammers down on the tiles behind us as my cheek slams into the cold wall, as he pushes a hand between my shoulder blades to keep me in place and slides the other between my legs from behind.

  “That’s true, but it’s not right.”

  He crowds against me, his cock pressing against my entrance. I moan, and I’m not entirely sure if it’s with panic or need. Zach must take it as the former, because I feel his cock throb against me as it grows even harder.

  His teeth nip at my ear. “When you’re scared, Trinity…I’m not.”

  Zach thrusts into me, driving thought from my mind. I gasp, my mouth staying open as I struggle with the titillating mess of pleasure and pain wreathing through me. He draws out and then slams back in again, immediately falling into a punishing tempo. My core clenches around him, and I let out little gasps of pain that quickly transform into pants of deep-seated need.

  Somehow, despite his breathless growls as he slams into me, despite the pouring water, despite my own ringing ears…I hear the bathroom door open.

  I would be relieved, but all I feel is that intoxicating rush that fills me when I’m with Zach.

  When I’m with any of them. All of them.

  As if he knows he’s seconds away from losing his only one-on-one time with me in years, Zach thrusts into me and groans deep and hard, filling me with his seed until it drips down my legs. He slides a finger over my clit, toying with the engorged little nub as a stuttering breath washes over my ear.

  “When you’re scared, baby girl, all I want to do is protect you. Even when I’m the one hurting you, scaring you. And that brief fucking moment is the only peace I ever have inside this twisted freakshow I call a mind.” He rubs my clit so hard that my teeth clench. Still deep inside me, he moves his hips, forcing me to feel every inch of him.

  “But I don’t want you to be scared anymore,” he whispers.

  Pressure builds inside me, seconds away from tearing me apart. “Zach.” His name comes out mangled. His finger picks up speed, his other hand parting my cheeks and stroking a hard line over my backdoor.

  “Even if that means I’ll never have another moment of peace in my wretched fucking life.”

  I come with a strangled gasp, slapping my hands against the tiles above my head as I try and hold onto my sanity. A righteous shudder courses through me, and I’m dimly aware that Zachary’s suddenly not touching me anymore, that there are raised voices, shouts.

  But thankfully another warm body replaces his. Long, graceful fingers slide between my legs, some sliding into me, some cupping my pussy and toying with my clit as I unravel.

  Pleasure wraps me up tight and then slowly unwinds, leaving me lightheaded and breathless.

  I push away from the wall, letting Cass envelop me from behind. I almost lose myself in the feel of his embrace, but then I hear an unmistakable sound.

  A punch.

  A groan.

  Someone falling.

  “No!” I spin around, clutching at Cass’s naked body as his embrace suddenly becomes a prison. I fight him, but he pins me effortlessly against the wall. “Cass!”

  My eyes flicker to him, but his face is steel. “He said he
was going to apologize, not fuck you until you bleed.”

  “I’m not bleeding.”

  “You could have been,” Cass growls. Anger turns his eyes a sullen navy blue. “That fucking cunt isn’t going to keep using you like this. Enough is enough.”

  “He…” I swallow hard.

  Using me.

  He was, wasn’t he? All this time. He just told me so. I keep his demons at bay. I give him peace…if only briefly.

  I stand on tip-toes to look over Cass’s shoulder and yell out, “Leave him alone!”

  Rube lifts a fisted hand, about to deliver another punch to where Apollo is holding Zach against the bathroom wall, but he pauses. When he looks at me over his shoulder, his brilliant green eyes are narrowed.

  “You said it’s over,” he rumbles, his face twisting. “Well, it’s fucking over.”

  “Rube, no!” I shriek. “Stop!”

  Rube shakes his head and lands his fist squarely in the middle of Zach’s face. Blood gushes from his broken nose, and all he does is laugh. “See?” he calls out to me. “Fit in or fuck off, Trinity.”

  Rube lines up another punch.

  I shove at Cass, but he keeps me pinned.

  When I let out a frustrated yell, no one even seems to care.

  So I glare up at Cass and sink my teeth into his pec.

  “Christ!” he yells, pushing away from me. He slaps a hand over his pec and stares at me in shock as blood starts seeping through his fingers. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Rube, stop!” I hold my belly as I move toward him as quickly as I dare. Wet tiles are no joke, especially when I have a baby inside me. One slip is all it will take.

  I grab Reuben’s wrist, and he jerks me forward with the force of his next punch.

  But it never lands, because Rube stops and looks at me with a severe frown creasing his brow. “Let go,” he says calmly.

  If he’d been shouting, I might have listened. But I’ve seen this serenity in his eyes before.

  People died.

  “He told you he wanted to apologize to me,” I rattle off, tightening my fingers around Rube’s wrist. “Well that’s exactly what he did.”

  His frown deepens. “He was hurting—”