“At least you two are nice.” Sawyer sighed. “Everything is simpler with you two.”
“Isn’t it?” Elijah laughed. “How is chess with Vincent, by the way? That seems much more complicated than anything we ever throw at you.”
She groaned and shook her head. They had played the night before, and it was tense and awkward. She was able to play black side at least, but that didn’t stop Vincent from beating her. The game on the board was casual, the game between them was not. It had been strangled conversation about growing up. Neither of them had really wanted to talk about anything, but they had tried. They both had also promised to continue to try after the game was over, when they admitted that it was difficult. The only thing they needed to talk about was the one thing they hadn’t.
“It’s a thing. We’re going to try and find some common ground that isn’t…” She took a deep breath and shook her head. They needed to find common ground that wasn’t Axel or Henry. Common ground that didn’t involve graves and pools of blood.
“I understand, and in the end, it will help the team work cohesively,” Elijah said to her softly. “Thank you for working with him on it. We all need to be able to trust each other out in the field and here at home. As for the romantic stuff… that’s more complicated, but don’t let it bother you. Remember, I can get Vincent to listen to me. I can also knock some sense into Zander.”
“Wrong.” Sawyer sighed. “No one can knock sense into Zander. You can only knock him around and hope it sticks.”
That made Elijah laugh, and she smiled. Quinn just nodded wisely as they got to the weapons building.
“Need me to order you a box of batteries? AA or AAA? Those are the ones vibrators normally use, right?” Elijah teased, and she grinned.
“DD,” she answered, and he lost his mind in a fit of laughter. When he finally looked back up to her, his grin had turned naughty.
“Well, if you double D…”
“I meant the bigger batteries,” Sawyer groaned but she couldn’t stop the laugh. “Fuck, you are so immature.”
“Yes,” Elijah confirmed, smiling.
Quinn just continued to nod. She didn’t know if he was following the conversation or not, but she found it a bit funny that he kept a straight face and just nodded the entire time.
“Quinn, do you know what a vibrator is?” Elijah asked, trying to hold back a snicker. “Have I told you yet?”
Sawyer groaned. Did they really need to have this conversation?
“Is it the purple thing in Sawyer’s bedside table? It had a button and vibrates at different speeds? I would assume that’s what one might call a vibrator.” Quinn asked her, turning to look at her with a curious expression. Sawyer’s jaw dropped open. “I opened it and saw batteries. I put it back together before I put it away.”
“Quinn,” Elijah was still laughing. “I told you not to go through her things. And if you did, not to let her know.”
“That’s right…” Quinn frowned. “But is it?”
“Yeah,” Elijah mumbled, trying to control himself. Sawyer was still opening and closing her mouth, trying to figure out what absolute fuck her life had turned into.
“What’s it for?” Quinn asked softly, looking at her. She saw the light for new information dance in those ice eyes. He was genuinely curious. This was new and exciting territory to him.
“It stimulates women to please them sexually,” Elijah answered him diplomatically. He looked insanely pleased with himself, even if there was a touch of guilt in his eyes. “Then there are dildos, which are replicates of a penis, to do the same thing.” Elijah looked at her and shrugged. “There’s never been a reason for him to know before or to introduce the information to him…”
“I’m leaving,” Sawyer said under her breath. She did just that. She turned on her heel and walked away before the conversation went any further. It had already gone too far.
“Why would…. Oh, because she doesn’t want to have sex with anyone here.” Quinn sighed.
She left before she could hear any more. Well, she ran before she heard any more. She hustled all the way back to house and made it to her bedroom. She would have locked the door, but she still didn’t have a damn lock on it.
She went to her bedside table, found the purple vibrator and glared at it. She picked it up and inspected it. She tested the button and the batteries. Nothing seemed off with it. She wondered when Quinn might have gone snooping and found it.
Probably when he stole the picture that he used to track her in Atlanta. So, early in her stay with them. Probably in the first week of her being here, since at the time, she was a criminal in protective custody who might make a break for it.
She put it away and sighed.
She fiddled on her computer, bored. She sent a couple texts to Liam, hoping he would answer her. Charlie had made zero progress in lessening his anger at her.
She read a chapter of the IMPO handbook.
She checked the time and groaned. Only fifteen minutes had passed.
She took the purple vibrator back out and used it. Then she took a nap.
A knock on her door later woke her up, and she groaned. She sat up, nude, as the doorknob turned.
“Sawyer?” Elijah called. He didn’t sound as happy as he had been earlier in the day, and she noted that immediately.
“Hold on,” she called out and slid off her bed. She grabbed her sweats and a tank, throwing them on quickly in order to answer the door. She walked over to the door and pulled it open.
“What’s going on?” she asked, yawning. He seemed a bit forlorn.
“Me, Jasper, and Zander are heading to Atlanta for the night. You can come with or stay here, your choice,” Elijah informed her, playing with his shirt. He seemed a little upset.
“What are you guys doing in Atlanta?” She looked him over and saw that he was wearing some of the nicest clothes she’d ever seen on him. Something like what he had worn when they had first met. A button-up shirt that was a bit too tight on his muscles with a white undershirt. He had on clean, nice, blue jeans and his midnight black cowboy boots, looking they had been cleaned recently. He held his hat in one hand, and his hair was even combed.
“Just going to hit up a few clubs, have some drinks. We normally get a few hotel rooms and stay out all night,” Elijah answered with a sigh. “It’s a tradition. If you don’t want to come, you’ll be here with Vincent and Quinn for the evening.”
“You all go and pick up chicks,” Sawyer guessed, with a smile. She kept that smile plastered on her face, but she felt a curl of jealousy. “Even Jasper?”
“Eh, some girl will get him to third base, and he’ll chicken out of finishing the deal. Happens every time.” Elijah chuckled. “Zander and I have a bit more fun.”
“Yeah, I think it’s going to be a no from me,” Sawyer said laughing. “I’m not sure I want to witness that. Even if I tried to get a man, he’d have to compete with all of you… Yeah, no thanks.”
“You know, I have feeling if you went, things would go down much differently. I think you said that I was irresistible when you were drinking,” Elijah purred at her, and she pushed him back gently.
“Go have fun,” she chuckled. “Keep those two out of trouble. How’s Jasper going to handle it?”
“He’s going on a simple leg until I finish the prototype I’m planning. He can walk well enough, and I think it might help him, not hinder him.” He threw a wink at her, and Sawyer only nodded.
“Women love a man with battle scars,” she confirmed with smirk. “Anything I need to know about what’s going on here?”
“Quinn will be unreachable in the woods for the entire evening. Don’t mess with him. Vincent… if he’s not in the office, then he’ll be down in the entertainment room,” Elijah sighed. “Check in with him sometime tonight so he knows you haven’t run.”
“Can do,” Sawyer said with a nod. “Go on. Have fun. Tell those two the same.”
“Will do, little lady.” Elijah chuc
kled and swooped down to kiss her forehead. She jerked her head back and frowned at the retreating cowboy. She didn’t say anything, though. She had a feeling that Elijah was just being Elijah with that kiss, nothing more. She hoped. She knew what those lips could do to a person.
She closed her door and checked the time. It wasn’t too late, only seven.
She scrounged up some dinner for herself, then read for several hours. It was nearly eleven when she decided she should check in with Vincent. She made sure to get dressed more appropriately before heading down to find him, which meant she put on a bra and thong to go with the sweats and tank top.
She checked his office first, knocking before she walked through the door to see if he was there. She frowned at his desk, noticing it was in complete disarray, something that was not normal for Vincent. She walked closer and gasped at what she found.
Pictures of boys with dark curly hair. Playing together, standing stiffly for professional pictures. There were about five, along with hundreds of scattered papers. News clippings, documents.
“Vincent,” she muttered to herself, looking through it more. This must have been everything he had on Axel. “Oh, Vincent…”
She left the office, taking the photos with her, and headed down into the basement. She held the pictures to her chest and wondered what she would find in the entertainment room. She had an idea.
She didn’t knock, just walked in through the door. She was being overly lazy with her powers, she knew it, but it was still nice to use them again...
She immediately noticed the smell of scotch and looked at the large TV. She gasped, dropping the photos she’d taken from Vincent’s desk. Her idea flew out of her head.
It looked like Henry, running and playing in the bright sun. But a woman’s voice called for Vincent. Then a second young boy was on the screen, though he was a bit older, and the woman asked Axel not to tease his brother. They scuffled and laughed.
Sawyer’s heart broke as she heard a soft cry. She picked up the photos and thought for a moment. She stepped around the large recliners and saw Vincent, a little bit drunk, watching the video with a few obvious tears on his face.
“Why did the guys go to Atlanta?” she asked suddenly, making him look over at her.
“It’s tradition to go out to Atlanta and party when our cases are officially closed and sentenced. The WMC has finished their official sentencing of Antonio ‘Axel’ Castello. He’ll be put to death once they feel he’s given them all the information he has about his and other criminals’ activities,” Vincent said hoarsely. “No date… just… whenever they fucking want to.”
Sawyer felt another small, tiny piece of her heart break. Some piece of her heart that must have been holding on to the precious few good moments and that naïve childish love she’d had for the man that had ruined her, that had broken her into a thousand pieces. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“They’ll torture him,” Vincent continued, clearing his throat, “within an inch of his life, if he doesn’t give them everything they want.”
Sawyer went to the bar and poured a hard drink. She didn’t know what she grabbed, and she swallowed what must have been three shots at once. They had all known when they left for Atlanta that this had happened. She had known this was going to come.
Nothing had prepared her for it.
“Why does it hurt so much?” Vincent asked roughly. “Why?”
“Because we once loved him,” Sawyer mumbled, pouring another drink. She hated the words as they came out of her mouth, but it was the truth. A bitter, hard truth, but the truth nonetheless.
“I never—”
“Don’t lie to me or yourself, Vincent Castello,” Sawyer growled. And she wouldn’t lie to herself. After everything she had gone through, something about it still fucking hurt, and she knew Vincent was feeling exactly what she was: shame that they pitied a monster his fate, a mix of sadness and joy that it was finally over, and relief underneath it all that someone they once cared for was going to die in an awful way. Add in a touch of guilt for feeling the relief. “He’s your brother.”
It made the entire thing so fucking complicated.
“I thought you would be excited to hear the news,” he growled back to her, and she recognized the painful lashing out of a confused and heartbroken human being.
She also thought she would be excited. And some part of her was. She was happy Axel was in a cell somewhere and not hunting her, not ruining the lives of people all over the world.
Nothing stopped the hurt.
She hated the hurt.
“Tell me about Axel the boy,” Sawyer said as she sat next to Vincent. It was Elijah’s normal spot. “Tell me about Axel the brother.”
“Why?” he snarled.
“Because he seems like a better man than the one I knew,” Sawyer whispered. “He can be someone we feel alright being sad over his death.”
“You…” Vincent looked frustrated. “You are handling this all too well. You know that, right?”
“I have years of fucking experience handling it,” Sawyer bit out. She was as good at the mask as he was. Her grief would be private because she was experienced. Vincent was new to this. He needed someone to tell him the truth and divert his attention. “Tell me about Axel the boy.”
“He was cool. A big brother, intelligent. He taught me to play chess because he was good at it,” Vincent mumbled. “He was good with numbers. He helped me with my math homework.” She waited for something she knew was coming. “He was a momma’s boy.” There it was. Vincent switched over to Italian and his voice broke all in the same sentence.
“What happened to your mother?” Sawyer asked softly.
“She was murdered… by a lover she had taken. She didn’t want to leave my father for him, and he took it out on her.” Vincent sighed. “She had been so perfect to us as children. We had no idea. Axel was thirteen and I was twelve.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“You don’t know your parents,” Vincent said suddenly, “at all.”
“Nope. I wasn’t even named by them. My mother died giving birth to me. A nurse in the hospital named me,” Sawyer huffed, finishing her drink. She grabbed the bottle Vincent had left on the floor and poured herself another one. “What’s this video from?”
“I was seven, he was eight. We were playing at our summer home outside of the city,” Vincent whispered.
“You both…” She trailed off, thinking about the initial reaction she’d had to the video playing. Laughter was the soundtrack to the heavy sadness layered on them both.
“Say it,” Vincent growled.
“You both look like Henry,” she said, feeling a bit depressed that she knew men who looked like what Henry would have. That young boy would have grown up to be a wonderful man.
“It’s the Castello stamp,” Vincent grumbled. “We got it from our father. He got it from his.”
“He was nicer than you both,” Sawyer added.
There was another heavy silence.
“Will you tell me about him?” Vincent asked finally, and she heard the broken man hidden deep inside the words. The man whose world had been completely altered by her own winding, dark history.
“You and Axel are two sides of the same coin,” she sighed. “Dark in different ways. Both a little mad. Both capable of great and awful things. Henry… Henry was the sun.”
“I hate being compared to him,” Vincent snarled.
“Doesn’t change reality. You became a counterpart to him to catch him, didn’t you?” Sawyer glared at him and, once again, focused on all the differences. How truly different he was from Axel. Axel was beautiful, at the top of his game from the moment he woke up to the moment he closed his eyes… Vincent wasn’t. He was rugged and worn, tired in ways Axel had never been. His eyes were darker, his hair messier. He was leaner than Axel, almost a little starved-looking, maybe underweight.
Axel was beautiful, but Vincent was handsome, she realized. Axel was crisp
and controlled and Vincent wasn’t. Vincent strived for control but fell apart. His appearance was constantly a little disheveled. His eyes showed the strain, she realized now, even when he put on that cold mask of control to get things done.
“Tell me more,” Vincent whispered, looking over to her.
“He loved Midnight, for the short time they could be together. He loved everything.” Sawyer sighed. Her heart ached. “He was smiles and cuddles and love. He wanted his Papa to play games with him and, instead, got me. He wanted his mother back on some nights, and instead, I would hold him.”
“Did he ever know…” Vincent frowned at her and she saw the tears on his cheeks again.
“No. He didn’t know his mother was dead. He didn’t know his father was a monster. He didn’t know about the world he was being raised in or the horrors of it,” Sawyer told him quietly. “Henry had no idea anything was wrong until the night…”
He died.
“Oh God,” Vincent mumbled, looking a little sick. “I need another drink.”
“Me too,” Sawyer groaned.
“Will you tell me stories?” Vincent asked as he poured for them.
“I will,” Sawyer agreed, “if you tell me some.”
They watched videos and drank together. They exchanged stories of better moments. She tried to give him as much of his nephew as she could. She couldn’t bring him back. Nothing could. And he gave her an innocent boy named Antonio. A boy who changed after his mother died and he failed to live up to his father’s expectations. A boy who was so crushed by the weight of his failures that, when he came into his powers, he decided he would rule over everything he could get his hands on. He’d been raised to play the game because he hadn’t had power. Then he had both, and he’d become nearly unstoppable…. Until he went a little mad trying to clean up the one mess that escaped him. The only mess. Her.
They finished the bottle and pulled out another one, and Sawyer felt something shift in her heart, a piece of her soul. Vincent helped her as they stumbled to the bar once, and something raced through her. When they made it back to their seats, she watched him continue to talk, and she gave him more about Henry. He loved coloring books. He loved watching TV cuddled on the couch.
A Heart of Shame Page 12