Sinners & Saints (Sinners & Saints #1)

by Ballinger, Chelsea

  “Peace for what?”

  “I took her virginity. She used to cut herself. She came to me and asked me to have sex with her. She had these scars on her stomach. The next day she cut the scars too deep on the beach… on purpose, of course. She made sure to tell Denton to provide a letter to me. She thanked me for making her feel beautiful. How I did that? I have no clue.”

  “Yes, you do,” she says and I can’t help but look at her. I’m not ready to see her reaction. Her eyes seem frightened and tears are forming. I don’t understand.

  “Okay, fine. I was gentle and I provided her with sex,” I say to her.

  “No, for fucks sake, no.” She’s mad. I haven’t really seen her angry before. I also see pain. A lot of it. “She chose you because no matter how much of a bastard you are… you wouldn’t gloat about what you saw. You made her feel beautiful because of your ability to show no emotion. When you saw her scars, you didn’t react. You probably even caressed them… stared at her as you did, ultimately telling her that it was okay. She chose you because of your lack of care. The one moment where your negligence did someone justice.”

  How does she know these things? How does she know so much about everyone? Why the hell does she have to be right? That night with Lydia, I did feel the need to be kind just once to someone. I never told anyone this. Why am I telling her part of it?

  “Would you have told if Denton went any further?” she asks.

  “Eye for an eye,” I say adamantly and look back out the window.

  Truthfully, thinking about it now, I don’t know what I would do. Good thing a lot of people I know are predictable. Juliet, though? She isn’t.

  Once we reach home the silence and change in mood between us is apparent.

  “Everyone must be sleep,” she says, kicking off her heels in the living room and heading to the mini bar. “Sit and drink with me?” She seems different now. Something is bothering her and it feels as if she’s itching to get it out.

  I never turn down a drink, so I will drink with her. We knock back shots, she more than I. I watch as she runs through her thoughts, looking down at the almost empty bottle of vodka.

  I stare at her for a few more minutes until she finally looks up at me.

  “Let’s play a game.” She says.

  I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Fine. I am deeply bored right now, so your pointless persistence should amuse me.”

  “Alright then. We will play the show me game.”

  “Rules.”

  “Nope. No rules.” She thinks about it. “Well no, let’s put some rules out there. No asking to see me naked.”

  I want to smile.

  “Okay, I’ll start so you can get an idea of it,” she says.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Show me…” She trails off thinking. “Show me the thing you lack of.”

  Really? I decide to go ahead and just play along with her. I place my hand on my chest where my heart was or the lack thereof.

  “Shocker.” Her brow jumps. “Although the exciting response would have been if you pointed down below.”

  “Then tell me to show you my best attribute.”

  “Sexy.” She arches her brow, biting her lip. “Anyway, your turn.”

  “Show me your greatest accomplishment.”

  She grins and points to her teeth.

  “Really?”

  “Damn right! I had to wear braces for most of my adolescence to achieve these babies. And don’t even pretend that you don’t believe that rude stereotype that British people have bad teeth. You already voiced your opinion.”

  “It’s not a stereotype—most of you do.”

  “Piss off.” She playfully snaps and it’s exciting to see her like this. It makes her look sexier. “Show me your greatest fear.”

  “You do realize that this game has its limitations, right?”

  “Yes, but if you’re creative, you can improvise.”

  I hesitate. “You have to tell the truth,” she urges.

  I point to my head.

  “What does that mean?”

  “My greatest fear is that I will end my life with my brains splattered on the ground like my mother and brother.”

  Her eyes broaden. “Mate, you are seriously dark and twisted.”

  Nothing new told to me. “I kind of fancy it though,” she says and by the look on her face, she means it.

  I grin and she gasps. Fuck. She has received a positive reaction from me, and my blushing exposes that said effect. I have to fire back.

  “Show me the ugliest part of you,” I ask

  I don’t even know where I’m going with this. Knowing her, she’ll probably be sarcastic and say her whole body or something.

  Her face stills for a moment. She suddenly stands up. She bites her lip and pulls her hair back behind her ears. She’s nervous. She raises her skirt, slowly to the top of her thighs. I could be turned on right now, but I’m not and it’s not because she’s ugly. It’s because something else is getting my attention… and empathy. The inside of her left thigh consists of several straight jagged lines. Perfect lines just like the ones in one of August’s mazes. My heart is beating faster and my empathy is growing. This is why the tale of Lydia affected her so. It’s personal. Tragic beauty. Everyone has one. This is Juliet’s.

  She drops the skirt back down. For the first time, her face shows sorrow and regret.

  “I guess I wanted to test my theory. I’ve never shown anyone that… well except my therapist.” She starts picking at her fingernails. “I’ve kind of been dying to tell someone about that. Once you told me about Denton’s sister, well… I figured you. A person who doesn’t have feelings.” She uses air quotes when referring to my lack of feelings. “Because you don’t care, right? You don’t care that I used to do this?”

  I don’t answer. I only continue staring at her. I’m being ambushed. If Scarlett were here, she would laugh. That’s the same thing I thought when Lydia showed me hers, but I could never laugh just like I can’t laugh now or berate them. Lydia, I pitied her. Juliet… I want to hold her. I am not disgusted in her scars but in awe. God, if you do exist, what the hell have you’ve done to me?

  “I’m gonna go to bed now,” she barely whispers. She stumbles a bit. She’s drunk but picks herself up and heads to her room. I clench my fists, seething out all the need to go after her, all the right words to say to her. Her scars are not ugly nor is she. They are only a reflection of the beautiful human being she is. I’ve never met a beautiful human being before. Never wanted to.

  JULIET

  I’m crazy. No literally, I think I’m insane. I have to be, right? To do what I just did, I have to be.

  When Hugo told me the story about that girl every memory I had of bringing harm to myself appeared. It’s my dark door. The door that hides every vile thing I want to forget. Funny thing, self-inflicted harm is the only thing behind that door. I wanted to forget it and in return I would embrace the past sins. That’s how much it pains me to remember, but I just told Hugo of all people. I saw a way to open that door and place into another one. His. I figured his door was more willing to let it in. Is that selfish? Maybe it’s stupid, but I still feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders.

  I see the light on in the kitchen as I reach the stairs. I follow it to see if anyone is in there.

  Ms. Eleanor is. She’s humming to herself a melody I am not familiar with. She seems in a daze. No wonder why—she’s smoking a joint that’s inserted in her black cigarette holder. She looks and smiles at me.

  “Juliet, darling, are you alright?” she asks me.

  “Yes, I’m okay.” I wipe my wet eyes. “Just tired. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, as fine as one should be in this devilish world.” She ashes the joint and passes it my way. I smile at her, grabbing hold of the cigarette holder with my fingers and taking a few puffs. This will help me sleep.

  “Thank you.” I pass it back and proceed to my room.

  “Juliet,” Ms. Eleanor
stops me. A look of concern shows on her face. “Be careful playing games with dark hearts, my dear. Cupid’s arrow for them is only made up of broken ones. A perfect arrow has the power to pierce love’s gift without a worry on one’s soul, but a broken arrow is unpredictable. It’s never sharp enough to go deep within the flesh or the feathers are never equipped enough to provide a less discouraging flight. Never truly do they make a kill with one shot.”

  I soak in her words. I understand what she’s saying. It’s frightening to hear, but instead of running away from it, I ask the important question of the night.

  “What if instead of Cupid, the hunter shoots the arrow?”

  She smiles softly. “Then I hope your pull on the bow is vigorous.”

  I smile and head to my room. God, there are too many bloody emotions running through me tonight. I feel almost as if I can’t breathe.

  I unzip my dress and let it fall to the ground once I get inside my room. I look at myself through the tall mirror. I specifically stare at the scars on my thigh. I still can’t believe I showed them to Hugo. I keep doing things out of the ordinary. Yep, I’m as crazy as they are. Then maybe that’s why fate brought me here.

  I hear a footstep. I didn’t even realize I left my door open. I turn around and see Hugo staring at me, holding my clutch in his hand. It’s no secret what he wants to do to me at this moment, given my half naked body and his eyes stilled on it. Thank God I’m wearing black lace.

  I’m not scared to appear to him like this. I’m not scared of him grabbing me and throwing me on the floor or saying anything rude or crude. I just know that this battle between us is starting to truly heat up and tonight I have to win this round with darkness and seduction. I walk over to him, slowly. His chest rises as his eyes continue to examine me. His jaw tightens and his eyes start to blink more than usual. His fists are balled up. I’m near him now. I can hear him breathing heavily. I reach for the hand that is holding my clutch. He releases it once I grab hold of it. I stare at his lips, licking mine then I look into his eyes. Complete agony within them. They’re dark and hungry, starving.

  “Thanks,” I say smirking.

  I take four steps back, just enough space for me to close the door.

  HUGO

  Only she can go from broken, tainted and pure to just purely erotic.

  “Fuck,” I mumble in defeat.

  13

  JULIET

  “You seem happy this morning.” Cody notices the bright smile on my face. My humming while I’m eating my omelet is probably giving him a clue also.

  “I suppose I am.” I glance at Hugo who doesn’t look as pleased as I am.

  “Oh my God!” Poppy squeals.

  We wait for her to give a reason as to why she screams.

  “I got invited to a listening party!” she gloats.

  “Whose?” I ask, but Poppy doesn’t answer. She’s looking over our heads, her mouth and eyes wide open. We follow her gaze and see a man in a gray suit staring at us. His hair is jet black with grey hair peeking out on the sides. He’s very handsome and well-tailored, but his scowl reminds me of a certain someone.

  “Hello, Dad,” Hugo confirms my suspicions. I glance at August who starts to sink in his chair.

  “Living room, now.” His look of disdain for Hugo is evident. He’s here about Denton.

  “No hello?” I ask before even thinking.

  He looks at me, narrowing his eyes before heading back in.

  “My father’s not usually for introductions,” Hugo says, rising up from his seat. August quickly follows closely behind him.

  HUGO

  “Why is it so hard for you not to embarrass me?” he asks me as August and I stand shoulder to shoulder in front of him in the living room.

  “I’m talking to you, Hugo.” My father steps to me. “Answer me damn it!”

  August flinches while I stand still. As expected, he starts to cry. My father looks at him in a disgusting manner and snaps his fingers in August’s face. “Hey! If you’re going to do all that whining, then go to your damn room. Go!”

  August runs away. While I wait to be ridiculed.

  “Craig’s son was admitted into the hospital for a damn stab wound to the leg.”

  “It was a flesh wound,” I say.

  He shoves me so hard, he stumbles back. Pointing his finger at me, his face turns red. “You outta be glad that I talked him out of pressing charges, but because of your shit I had to lower the price on that pipeline deal. You have cost me.”

  “The billionaire loses a few million—oh what shall you do?” That sarcasm gets me another shove to the chest.

  “Your recklessness, Hugo, is all you have amongst your pathetic need for attention. You will cut the shit and grow up. You will no longer embarrass me. I have a disabled son and I will not leave my legacy to a shit head like you. ”

  “Yes, let us all weep for the man who can do no wrong. His wife and children just kill themselves because he’s the best rendition of a husband and father.”

  The back of his hand comes across my face before I can blink. I keep my hold and glare at him as the throbbing pain on my cheek begins to burn.

  “You do it again, I will withhold your inheritance from your mother.”

  “You can’t do that. Besides, if you could you would’ve already threatened me with this.”

  “No Hugo. You see, I don’t care about you shoving your dick in anything or failing your classes purposely, prolonging your education. But when it comes to my money and my business… that’s when I give a shit. As your father and her husband, I am legally bound to withholding it if I fear the security of the fortune you are about to come into. I made sure of that when your mother had it written up. Don’t test me, boy.”

  “I guess she agreed to that before she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you.”

  He laughs harshly, shaking his head.

  “You may throw shame at me for not coddling you, but always remember this.” He presses his finger hard against my chest. “She left you too. She left all of us and you can blame me all you want, but she didn’t think you and your brothers were important enough to stay. So don’t pretend I’m fully to blame for your disoriented behavior.”

  He leaves with that same smug grin he always has on his face. The flash of my mother smiling at me appears and it’s the first time in five years I’ve seen that smile before her death. I grind my teeth once the image of her smile, the leap off the balcony, and the blood surrounding her when I look over fade away. I feel I’m not alone anymore. I turn around. Of course she is here to witness it all.

  “What?” I nonchalantly ask.

  The sympathy in her eyes annoys me. “Your brother.”

  JULIET

  He quickly walks pass me, still in his sullen state, but after what I just witnessed I know he’s hurt. He’s always been hurt—that’s the problem.

  I follow him to August who ran to his room and started panicking. He’s in the corner banging his head against the wall over and over again. Cody has his hands on his shoulders begging him to stop. August stops just so he can push Cody off of him, showing how strong he really is. He goes back to the head banging while Jordana and Poppy watch helplessly. Cody stands back up and tries again, but Hugo pushes him out of the way.

  “Hey, I was trying to help!” Cody snaps.

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing, so I suggest you stay out of it.” Hugo wraps his arms around August and flips him over onto the floor flat on his stomach and sits on top of him. He now continues to bang his head on the floor. Hugo uses his right hand to cover August’s forehead.

  “Stop it.” He calmly says to him.

  The head banging still continues. I’m sure Hugo’s hand is hurting, but it doesn’t hinder his efforts to prevent damage of his brother.

  “No!” August yells trying to escape from Hugo’s grasp. I’m coming to understand that Hugo is not only strong physically but emotionally.

  “Calm down,” h
e says again softly. Slowly but surely August begins to calm down. “Calm down. It’s alright.”

  Hugo keeps on with the usual monotone while brushing August’s hair as he lays on the floor, crying.

  “What did I say about hitting your head on things when bad events take place?” Hugo asks him.

  “Men don’t do that,” August quietly sobs.

  “Yes and what are we?”

  “Men.” August stares off, biting his lip as Hugo stares at him, gently rubbing his head.

  The Mandrake twins are one. I understand what August means and what Hugo does for him. He calms him, gives him strength, gives him love. He can say it’s an obligation or pity all he wants, but it is clear to anyone that Hugo Mandrake profoundly loves his brother.

  “Can I get off you now?” he asks August who has stopped crying.

  August nods his head.

  “You want everyone to leave?”

  August nods his head again.

  “Everyone out,” Hugo says as he stands, bringing August up with him.

  We do as they request. Poppy and Cody leave while Jordana and I linger in the hallway.

  “He gets like that sometimes,” she tells me noticing my intense worry. “That wasn’t even the worst.”

  “Does it happen often?”

  “No,” she shakes her head. “Only when their dad comes around… and trust me that is not often.”

  She leaves and I should go with her, but still my feet won’t move. Oh my God, feet what are you doing? They’re taking me to Hugo’s room. I sit on his bed and notice the same black chalkboard as August’s. I didn’t even notice it before. Why didn’t I notice it before? Oh, yeah, Hugo’s abdomen and biceps distracted me from it. I notice the drawing of a chessboard. Names are on it. The virgin tells me everything I need to know. We are the names. It’s what Hugo names us. Virgin, Cody. Clueless isn’t Jordana. That’s Poppy. Unwanted Advisor must be Jordana. English Rose. That’s me. What I’m finding interesting is that I’m ahead of the rest by three or five spaces. The only name next to mine is Beautiful Serpent. That’s definitely Scarlett.