The Sinners Touch (A Manwhore Series Book 2)

by Apryl Baker

  “Kade,” Angel whispered.

  He turned to face her, and all his shock was mirrored in those cat eyes of hers. She looked lost, alone, and so very sad. This wasn’t her fault—well, no more her fault than his. She didn’t need to see him freaking out. She was hurt and scared. That trumped his own fear of what a pregnancy meant.

  His hand cupped her cheek. “Hey, now, it’s all going to be okay.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her misery washed over him like a tidal wave, and it helped to clear some of his own shock away. She needed him to take care of her right now more than she needed him to be freaking out.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Angel.” He gave her a smile, trying to reassure her and fight back the panic at the same time. It probably came out more of a grimace, if he was honest with himself.

  “She sure as fuck doesn’t.”

  Peter’s angry voice sounded right behind him, and he turned. Damn, but his friend looked pissed. Kade might be in for a beat down. Not that he blamed him. The fact they had no sisters was one of the few things the Kincaid brothers thanked God for. The poor girl would never have survived six brothers. Nor would any guy she ever dared to so much as glance at. What if he had a daughter? God’s sense of humor would surely bite Kade in the ass in the form of payback.

  “Peter, don’t.” Angel’s plea made her brother’s expression harden.

  “Outside. Now.” He turned and stormed off.

  Kade gave Angel a quick kiss on the forehead and followed his very pissed off best friend to an empty hallway away from the staff and patients. Peter’s fist was balled and ready to land when they finally came to a halt.

  “Wait.” Kade held up his hand. “I know you’re mad…”

  “You think?” Anger vibrated off Peter, and Kade winced, hoping this would end better than he thought it would.

  “No one expected this. We were always so careful.” Kade shook his head. “It is what it is, and…”

  He barely registered the fist that swung at him with brutal efficiency, let alone have time to dodge it. The blow landed squarely on his eye, and pain burst to light amid an array of stars. He staggered backward, the wall breaking his fall. Damn, that hurt.

  “You stupid, irresponsible…”

  “Look, Peter, I don’t know what we’re going to do, what Angel wants to do. This is her decision."

  “But what do you want to do?” Peter eyeballed him, begging him to say the wrong thing.

  Hell, what was the right thing to say? He didn’t know. This was too fast, too soon, everything sprung on him with no warning. Did he even want a kid? Could he take care of one? What if Angel didn’t want to keep it? He swallowed. He knew he wanted the baby to have a chance, but he also knew ultimately it wasn’t his decision.

  Did he want the baby? He loved Angel, and he knew as panicked as he was right now, he’d love the baby because it was a part of her.

  “I want what she wants.” That was the best answer he could come up with.

  “And if she wants an abortion?” Peter relaxed slightly, but only slightly.

  “As much as that bothers me, I’d support her if that’s what she decided.”

  “So, you want the baby?”

  “Shit, Peter, I don’t know what the fuck I want.” Kade felt sick, his fear bubbling. “I just found out a few minutes ago there even is a baby. Can I have five minutes to process before you finish the Inquisition?”

  “No. You can’t have five minutes, because she’s in there twice as freaked as either one of us, scared to death you’re going to walk out…”

  “I love her. I wouldn’t walk away from her because she’s pregnant.”

  “That’s all you had to say.” Peter cracked his knuckles. “You’re going to marry her.”

  Whoa, what? Marriage?

  The air went out of his lungs, and a few spots of darkness crept up around his vision.

  Pregnant.

  Marriage.

  Peter snapped his fingers in front of Kade’s face, bringing him away from the brink of darkness. “No passing out. I mean this, Kade. You knocked my sister up, and you damn well will marry her.”

  “But…”

  “You said you loved her.”

  “I do, but…”

  “Then that’s the end of it. You’ll get married. I’ll call Father Joe when I leave. Two weeks should be enough time for you to get the marriage license.”

  “Slow down, Peter.” Kade braved Peter’s ire. “You’re making plans for your sister. She might not want to marry me. Have you thought of that?”

  Peter frowned then marched back the way they’d come. Kade stared at his retreating back, dismayed, but then took off after him. God help him, what kind of situation had he gotten himself into? His mother and grandmother would kill him.

  “Angel, do you want to marry Kade?”

  Peter’s harsh question hit his ears as he crossed the threshold into Angel’s room. Real smooth, Peter.

  Her pale, bloodless face turned from Peter to Kade and back again. Her eyes hardened. “I don’t want to marry anyone because they feel forced into it, Peter.”

  “He’s not being forced.” Peter crossed his arms. “Now answer the question.”

  “Peter, get the hell out. Your sister and I need to talk, and you’re not helping.” Kade pushed his way past Peter.

  “No. I…”

  “Out. Now.” Kade spread his legs, taking up his best fighting stance. “I’ll bring her home in a while.”

  Peter’s lips thinned, but he nodded. He turned and walked out, his back ramrod stiff. Kade sighed and turned around to face Angel.

  “So, a baby, huh?”

  She nodded and looked away.

  He walked over and leaned into her good arm. “How far along are we?”

  “About seven weeks.”

  “The shower, then.” He supposed he should have known better, but he didn’t regret that afternoon at all.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” She cleared her throat. “About Peter…”

  “He’s just looking out for you.”

  “I know, I…you don’t have to marry me, Kade,” she blurted. Her face flushed crimson, and she looked all of the nineteen years old she was in that moment. Young, vulnerable, and ashamed.

  It was the last thing he wanted.

  “You tell me what you want, Angel. Do you want the baby?”

  “I…I was so scared when I found out, but…”

  He grasped her chin and made her look at him. “Whatever you decide, Angel, I will support you. Do you want the baby?”

  “Yes.” Her green eyes sparked defiance.

  “Then marry me.”

  “No. Not because of Peter…”

  “Hey, have you ever known me to do something I didn’t want to do?”

  “No.”

  “Then answer me. Will you marry me?”

  “You might hate us both later, me and the baby, if you marry me because I’m pregnant.”

  “But I’m not marrying you because you’re pregnant.” He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “I’m marrying you because I love you, Angelique Renae Lemoraux.”

  A small gasp left her and her eyes widened. “You love me?”

  “Yes. I realized it while I was driving over here, terrified you were in some kind of accident and you might die. I couldn’t bear the thought, and that’s when I knew I loved you. Do you understand? I love you, Angel.”

  “What if I don’t love you?” The sparkle of devilment was slowly leaching back into her eyes, and a small fission of relief settled in his stomach.

  “You do.” He kissed the corner of her mouth.

  “Is that so, Kincaid?”

  “Yes, it is so, moye serdtse.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because you love me too.” He leaned back and smiled, his body warming with the sight of her own smile.

  “So, you’re telling me how I feel now, are you?”

  “If I have to, yes.�
�� He brushed her nose with his. “But you do love me.”

  “But what if I don’t?” She leaned forward, her lips meeting his.

  “Then I’ll just have to work a little harder.” He kissed her, his lips stealing over hers in a swift assault.

  “Ahem.” Someone cleared their throat.

  Kade reluctantly pulled back to see a nurse staring at them, amused. “I take it you are the baby daddy?”

  Kade laughed outright. “Yeah, that’d be me.”

  “Let’s get her all signed out so you can take her home.” The nurse smiled warmly, and Kade stepped aside as she went to work having Angel sign papers and explaining to her about swelling and medications.

  It wasn’t lost on him that she hadn’t answered either of his questions. Did she love him? Maybe it was too soon for her. They’d only been dating six months. It was a new revelation to him and one he’d come to on his own. Maybe she needed more time.

  It was a sobering thought. They didn’t have all the time in the world. They would be parents in a few months.

  Parents.

  Damn, how had he gone from being dumbstruck over the word pregnant to thinking the word parent so easily?

  The more he thought about the baby, the worse his panic got, but not at the actual pregnancy itself. It had more to do with all the lies surrounding his and Angel’s relationship. He needed to tell her the truth, but if he did, she’d kick him out, and the thought of losing her…it was more than he could take.

  No. He’d marry her. He’d show her how much he loved her. If he could convince her of that, maybe she wouldn’t leave him.

  The buzzing of his phone snapped him out of his memories. He picked it up off the table and saw the front desk’s number flashing at him. What did they want this time of night?

  What if it was another package?

  He swiped the bar and answered. “Kincaid.”

  “Mr. Kincaid. I have some people here who would like to see you. They are from Kincaid Securities. They said they’d be handling security for Miss Lemoraux? If that is the case, then they need to fill out the proper paperwork, but…”

  “But?”

  “But they are being difficult.”

  Of course they were. He glanced at the stairs. She should be okay for a few minutes. No one could get up here without a key.

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  He stretched, his arm muscles rippling. He walked to the dresser where a pan of water sat. He dipped the washcloth in it and proceeded to scrub the blood from his arms. He rinsed the cloth in the water, fascinated as it turned red.

  The whimper from the bed caught his attention. He regarded his canvas. The blood had run and pooled, drying in places. It swirled in a myriad of patterns that spoke to him. Beautiful.

  It was all about the glory of the patterns.

  Everyone looked for patterns. Even the ordinary souls found patterns in their everyday life. It was human nature. A slow smile curved his lips as he thought of the police and the FBI. They had to be driving themselves nuts trying to find a pattern in his kills.

  The simple truth was they’d never find a pattern. His patterns weren’t in the canvases he chose. His patterns could be found in the beautiful lines created with each drip, each small stream of blood as they trickled down the body that served as a perfect canvas to create upon. He chose his canvases young only because they tended to be fit, their blood quick and sure.

  And they needed to be women. Men really held no appeal. A woman could satisfy other needs as the paintings drew themselves. Though he supposed it might be an experiment to see how differently the patterns formed on a male canvas. He didn’t know if he’d be able to sate his needs on a male canvas.

  No, he decided. Best to stick to what gave him pleasure.

  He walked back over to the bed and released his beauty from her restraints. She cried out when he picked her up. The burns on her skin had reddened up to just the right color.

  “Come, love, let’s get you to the bathroom.” He picked her up and carried her to the toilet. He helped take care of her business then turned on the shower. “We need to get you cleaned up. We have a date tonight. I have something special planned.”

  It took him a few minutes, but he got her bathed and her hair washed. It cleaned all the blood away, but that was fine. He had photographs to look at. Besides, the new games he had planned would put his beloved chaos theory to the test again. He took his time and towel dried her body, relishing every small cry where he rubbed a burn just a little too hard. Her hair took a little longer, but once he was finished, she looked fresh and clean.

  “Come, you must be starving.” He picked her up off the bathroom floor and carried her into the living room. Her eyes examined the room, looking for exits. He knew this without looking at her, because they all did this. There was no escape, though. The door was padlocked on the inside and bars adorned the windows. She could get up, walk around, scream, pound on the door, but with no one around for miles, her efforts would be moot.

  He put her on the couch then wandered into the kitchen. He popped a frozen pizza in the oven and grabbed two beers from the fridge. She cringed when he sat beside her, popping the tops.

  She tentatively took the bottle he handed her. “Drink.”

  That pert little mouth sipped at the beer and he felt himself harden. So many things she’d already done with that mouth. So many more things she could do.

  No. He shook his head. Best not to get sidetracked. He flipped on the television. Scandal was on. He enjoyed the show. Leaning back, he threw an arm over her shoulder, his fingers curling into her arm and pulling her close. She tensed and tried to pull away. “Now, now. We’re trying to have a nice movie night. Don’t be like that, sugar. You don’t want to upset me, now, do you?”

  She shook her head and forced herself to relax.

  He nuzzled her hair. “Good girl.”

  The fight in her wasn’t nearly as strong as the last girl. His attention was waning. If it weren’t for the red hair, he’d probably already have disposed of her as a failed effort. His disposals were never left for the world to see. They ended up in the ground, away from prying, judgmental eyes. No one would see his failures. Perhaps he should give up on this one and find another?

  But no. The police already knew about her. He’d made no attempt to hide her abduction. He wanted them to know, to see that he planned on taking Angel. It made the game that much more fun. If he disposed of her now, they’d start asking questions he didn’t want them to ask. Why get rid of her of her so early? Was he escalating?

  Truthfully, he wanted to rush, to get this part over and done so he could focus on taking Angel, but he needed a plan first. She was locked away from him. He’d hoped she’d come to work tonight, but she’d stayed away. Agent Pretty Boy’s doing. He was sure of it. How to separate the two of them?

  He absently stroked his canvas’s hair while he muddled through all the logistical problems bound up in his masterpiece. Angel. He’d pose her just like an angel, spread open, her body covered in the most exquisite markings. Perhaps he’d go look up angelic symbols and carve them into the suppleness of her flesh, just to add a bit of artistic flair.

  So many possibilities.

  What was his angel doing? Was she sleeping, safe and locked away in her tower, or was she lying there, afraid? Was she dreaming of him? Of all the things they would do together? Perhaps he should show her? He had her email address, after all.

  Yes, he’d give her a peek into his world and all the beauty that awaited her.

  The smell of pizza wafted his way, and he stood. He detested burned pizza.

  Once they’d eaten, he wanted to take his canvas downstairs to the garage. He’d set up a display. Bound, fucked, and marked. His fingers twitched, aching for the feel of his brush—his knife, in this instance.

  Food first. They’d both need their strength for this.

  Then they would play.

  Chapter Fo
urteen

  Rain.

  How dare it threaten on her wedding day? Angel stomped her foot as she watched the weatherman. The dark clouds outside mocked her. Why did it have to rain on her wedding? It had to be a bad omen.

  Not that it was anything special. There would be no big church wedding, much to Peter’s disgust. It was more of a visit to the Justice of the Peace with Jasmine and her brother as witnesses. Kade said his family wouldn’t be able to make it on such short notice, as they all lived in Russia. Peter wanted Father Joe to perform the ceremony, but he gave in when Kade put his foot down. Peter wanted her married, and he’d do what was necessary to get the job done.

  Pregnant and married at the age of nineteen. Well, she’d be twenty in less than a week. It wasn’t what she’d planned. Not by any means. Her hand went to her stomach. The nugget didn’t care about that, though. Not his fault either. The longer she had to get used to the idea of a baby, the calmer she became. And she was pretty sure it was a boy. Just a feeling, but she knew she was right.

  She’d call him Matthew, after her dad. It was a good, strong name, but until she was sure it was a boy, she’d keep calling him Nugget.

  Despite Kade’s reassurances, she knew they were only getting married because he’d knocked her up. Not to say that in a year they wouldn’t have ended up at the altar. She wouldn’t be waking up to doubts on her wedding day. Would the marriage last? They were so young. She was headstrong, stubborn, but so was Kade.

  Her wedding dress mocked her from where it hung on her closet door. A simple white dress that no more resembled a wedding dress than her stripping gear did. It certainly wasn’t the wedding dress she’d dreamed of. She’d had her wedding mapped out since she was five. Big church ceremony, her dad walking her down the aisle, the dress causing everyone to ohh and ahh.

  Not what she got, though.

  Her hand rubbed her belly, reassuringly. It would be fine. It might not be everything her dreams were made of, but Kade was. A smile tugged at her lips. He was kind, sweet, sexy as all get out. He’d been so solicitous since he found out she was pregnant, daring her to lift anything more than five pounds.