All We Are (8th Sin Book 2)

by Holly Hood

  I bite down on my lip thinking just how many people he probably knew that did just that. “What about you? Have you claimed your role in the 8th sin? Do you know where you stand?”

  He licks his lips, zoning in on my lips again. I hate when he does that because I just want to forget about everything we are talking about and grab him by the back of the neck and make out with him.

  “I love when you ask me about the dangerous things in life. It’s hot.”

  I roll my eyes. “Answer the question.”

  “I’ve managed to hold my own. I’m not afraid to do what I have to do to protect what is mine.” He lifts his chin. “Is that a good enough answer for you?”

  “Is that who you want to be? A dangerous, intimidating person in control of everything.” I watch his hands, he’s really thinking about what I just asked him.

  “I only want to be in control of the things that I care about. What anyone thinks about me I could give two shits,” he runs a hand down the back of his neck. “My dad wasn’t always there for me but he has been the one constant in my life and I owe him.”

  “Why?”

  He makes a face. “Because he’s always made a point to come back for me. He could have left me with any of those people and took off. He’s always came back. And I wasn’t always a peach let me tell you.”

  He lightens up at the thought. “I was a dickhead my teen years.”

  I can’t help but smirk. “You still kind of are, but it’s attractive in a sick way.”

  I sit back enjoying the moment.

  “We should go back to your place so I can show you how much of a dickhead I can be,” he toys with my side until I jump off the bench and he backs me into the guardrail overlooking the water. “What do you say? You, me, a couple of bad choices in hopes of several orgasms.”

  I laugh and he presses his lips into mine, his hands on the railing using only his lips to control me.

  “A couple would be nice but I will settle for one—this is real life not a movie.”

  He nods in agreement, kissing me again. “If I make you come more than once, what say you we do this once a week?”

  I grip his t-shirt, and he bites down on my lip. He’s asking me to fuck him and nothing about it seems wrong. It seems awesome.

  “Maybe several times in a week if we want,” I insist.

  “Several times a week seems like a commitment,” he smirks, grabbing me by the arms when I shove him away from me. “But hey, if I managed to get you off that many times I might as well. And we haven’t fought yet.”

  “I have a feeling we are going to fight if you keep treating everything as a joke,” I tell him. “Lets go.”

  He slaps my ass following alongside of me back the way we came so we can get to my car. As ridiculously laidback as Nash is about just about everything going on around him I don’t mind it.

  It’s nice to see someone not stressing about properties or their next skating gig.

  “By the way what do you do for a living?” It’s something we never really discussed. I hoped he wasn’t going to tell me he mooched off of his father.

  “I’m a jack of all trades. You want them dead, beaten, stabbed, I’m your guy.”

  I throw him my most serious expression I can muster. “You have to be kidding me right now. Please tell me you are kidding me.”

  He leans over the hood, his eyes not giving in and letting me see the truth. “If I did would that change the way you feel about me?”

  Before I can tell him hell yes he says. “I really want the gods honest truth. If you knew someone did bad things after you already felt a connection, would that change the way you felt about them?”

  I swallow down the angst. “Of course it would. If I told you I killed puppies on the weekends you would think differently of me.”

  “That’s puppies. And I would hate you.”

  I sigh. “If you are telling me you are off killing people on the weekends that would really bother me.”

  “Bad guys. People who deserve it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Just like when we were kids. Would that make a difference?”

  I’m beginning to wonder if Nash turned into a homicidal maniac all the years after what happened to me. Maybe I am to blame for his need to live this lifestyle.

  I know I don’t hate him for saving me when we were little. I could imagine what an even bigger mess my life would have turned into if not for him.

  I look away and he notices.

  “What’s the matter?” His need to protect me kicks into gear and he rounds the car before I can answer him.

  “I think my dad killed my mother.”

  He touches his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Thirty Five

  I shut the door and pray I said the right thing.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I round the counter going into the kitchen.

  Nash takes a seat on one of the barstools and shakes his head again. He hasn’t answered me about the drink. So I get him one anyway and sit it in front of him.

  “Are you going to say something because right now you are kind of freaking me out?”

  “Why do you think that your father killed your mother?” He looks at me, waiting for my answer.

  I start to speak and then hold back.

  He raises his eyebrow, he knows I am holding back. “You already said so, you might as well spit the rest of it out.”

  I take a deep breath, thinking about the bloody clothes in the safe.

  “He’s keeping two bloody shirts in his safe. One is a woman’s. And I got in that safe because I used the date she was killed and low and behold it opened.” I bite down on my lip, plucking away at the counter. “If that doesn’t say guilty, I don’t know what does.”

  The thought that I lived with a murderer my entire life makes me sick.

  He scratches his head and sighs. “Do you really think he could kill someone…I mean you are the one who has known him your entire life?”

  I take the seat next to him. “Now that I think about it maybe I could see him doing something like that. He’s always had a temper and he’s always been downright controlling. My mother keeps quiet on just about everything, she would rather not say anything at all than argue with him.”

  “Maybe he’s just a dick,” he suggests.

  A lot of people are dicks but I never would think they would be capable of killing someone.

  “He could be a dick…he is most days, but most dicks don’t have bloody clothes locked away in a safe in their office. With the date of their ex lovers death as the combination.” As well as the deed to her father’s existence.

  “You’re not telling me something,” he says, looking me over.

  I guess it’s that obvious. “There was more.”

  “What?” he scoffs. “The murder weapon?”

  “It’s not funny, Nash.”

  “Murder never is.”

  “He had the deed to my grandfathers company in that safe. Jackson told me all about Lee and how he lost everything. That’s why he was in a homeless shelter. Maybe Lee knew what my father did and he used it against him to keep him quiet.”

  Now I really feel sick.

  “All these years my father was accused of killing Sarah. And I was the only one who ever believed him when he said that he didn’t do it.” He sighs, kneading his neck with his hand. “Who’d have thought it was your father who did it.”

  “You’re being an ass.”

  “No, if you’re father murdered someone and let someone else go down for it all these years, he’s the ass. Not to mention never telling you that your mother wasn’t your mother. That’s fucked up.” He drops his hand down on the table. “And let’s not forget leaving out the part about killing your real mother years before. He’s father of the fucking year.”

  Wow way to hold back.

  “So what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “Find out the truth,” he explains. “If he’s guilty of something you’ll know righ
t away, you call him out on it. Tell him that you know.”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m not. Are you crazy?”

  “Anonymously.” He looks at me. “We tell him we know what he did. And if he doesn’t meet us, we are going to the cops.”

  “And if he shows up he did it,” I realize.

  Nash nods. “Nobody in their right mind is going to meet up with some stranger if they aren’t guilty of something. They’re going to call the cops.”

  ***

  Nash runs across the street back to the old car he borrowed from Fuzz. That way we aren’t recognized while we are waiting for my dad to take the bait if that was what is going to do.

  “I didn’t think they even had payphones anymore,” I say once he is back in the car.

  “Some things never change,” he says. “Okay, we have about fifteen minutes to find out whether or not your father is the slime ball you think that he is.”

  I settle back into my seat, trying to get over the fact that I am on a stake out with a really hot guy. About to expose my father for what he might be.

  Our hands are a mere inch away from each other and if he just reached over he could touch me. I want him to touch me, because it might make me feel less horrible at the moment.

  And just like that his fingers curl around my hand. “It’s going to be okay. One way or another it’s going to be okay.” He tells me.

  “Okay.” I look at him, all of him. He’s always well put together even if he’s trying not to be. No matter what he wears, his eyes always house that same intensity that make me forget what color they even are because the only thing I care about when I am looking into them is what he is thinking.

  “How could I ever be afraid of someone like you?”

  “I would hope you never are afraid of me,” he says.

  I like that he cares about my feelings toward him. I want him to care about how I feel about everything.

  “I don’t think I ever could be.” I press my lips together at the thought of his against mine.

  He reaches out and touches my face and I’ve never felt more alive. It’s unavoidable. We connect more ways than anyone else I have ever known.

  When he pulls away I wish he hadn’t.

  “I think we got something,” he says, referring to the car pulling into the parking lot across the street.

  “That can’t be right.” I watch the dark car park. A car I am all too familiar with.

  “That’s your boss,” Nash does the honors of pointing it out. “And your father I’m assuming?”

  I can’t believe what I am looking at. I reach for the door handle and Nash yanks me back before I can do what I want to do.

  “You are not going over there.”

  “Let me go, Nash. I want someone to explain to me why they are together right now.”

  He’s not letting me go.

  “If anyone is going over there it is going to be me.”

  “No. I don’t want you getting involved. I don’t want something happening to you.”

  “Then we stay put. We have our answer.” He lets me go once he knows that I have calmed down.

  I sigh, just looking at them makes me horribly upset.

  “I just want to point out the elephant in the room.”

  I look at Nash. “What’s that, my father and my so called fling in cahoots?”

  “No. That you just said you don’t want anything happening to me.”

  I feel stupid. He’s right. I don’t know whether or not I should admit it or deny that I care.

  “They’re leaving,” I say, the moment leaving before I have to wiggle out of a tough situation.

  I pace Sophie’s apartment. “This makes absolutely no sense at all. Why would they come together?”

  Nash’s hands are resting in his lap, he’s a lot more at ease than I am that’s for sure.

  “Um. Maybe you just never realized they knew each other.” He shrugs. “I don’t really have an answer. If you were hanging around the guy you mean to tell me you never brought him around your family?”

  I pull at my hair. “Yes…once, the day I discovered the truth about my mother.”

  Nash listens.

  I go on. “My brother wanted help setting up my parents anniversary surprise and Jackson volunteered to come with me. When I was going through boxes of old photos, he found the birth certificate that I had never seen before.”

  Nash stands up. “What a sweet guy unearthing your deep dark family secrets. You’re telling me your family just leaves things like that laying around in boxes but your dad has a safe?”

  I clutch my chest. “I am so stupid.”

  “Stupid is this guy thinking he’s going to pull one over on you. That’s not going to happen.” He looks at me. “Let me see your phone.”

  I hand it over. “Why, what are you going to do?”

  He keeps his eyes on me waiting. He doesn’t tell me what he is going to do.

  “Fuzz. Meet me downtown. Ten minutes.” He hands me back my phone.

  “Nash. What are you going to do?” I ask again.

  “I want you to trust me.”

  “I can’t trust you when I don’t know what you are doing.” I cross my arms. He pries them lose holding onto them.

  “Have I done anything to prove I am not trustworthy?”

  I shake my head. “No. But I don’t want you doing something you can’t take back.”

  “I’d never do anything that I didn’t want to.” He’s looking at me—and once again that’s all it takes for me to feel what he’s feeling and understand him. I don’t think he would do anything that doesn’t need to be done.

  “Come here.” He tugs me by the bottom of my shirt to him.

  My stomach is in knots but when he wants me that all melts away. How could one person do this to someone else?

  He stares down at me, his eyes on my mouth.

  He has my complete attention. I am useless now that he is focused on me.

  He lifts my chin. “I was going to kiss you when we were in the car but for obvious reasons I couldn’t.”

  I force myself to breathe, frozen in place.

  He touches my hair. “Before I go, I need you to promise you will stay here and let me do this for you.”

  I know I should be refusing but none of that matters once his lips are on mine. I don’t care if he runs out of here and shoots up the entire town. I just want him to take me in my bedroom and throw me down and make me feel what I did on the side of the bar that night.

  He’s such a good kisser—slow and precise. He explores my mouth like he isn’t in a hurry to run right out the door anymore.

  He grips the back of my head and it takes everything in me not to tear my clothes off and beg him to take me right there on the floor of Sophie’s apartment.

  He stops. “I got to go. Wait here, I’m coming back.”

  His hands linger for a few seconds before he lets me go and he’s out the door before my breathing starts again.

  “Shit.” I drop down on the couch. I’ve never wanted someone to come back so bad in my life.

  I just sit, replaying our kiss over and over in my mind, waiting for Nash to come back.

  Thirty Six

  Nash does show back up. Just like he said that he would.

  “Is that blood?” I grab him, yanking him into the apartment before someone sees him in his condition.

  “Nice to see you too,” he looks around. “Your roommate here?”

  I nod. “Yes in her room and if she sees you like this she is probably going to kick me out.” I yank him down the hall by his hand, shutting my bedroom door once both of us are inside.

  “What did you do, Nash?”

  He slips his shirt over his head. And I have to remind myself I am trying to be serious.

  “Do you trust me?” He starts on his belt.

  “Are you getting naked right now?” I follow his pants to the floor. “Don’t get naked…tell me what you did.”

  “I’ll tell you in
the shower,” his eyes move to my bathroom door.

  He wants to shower—with me.

  “I got answers,” he steps closer, in nothing but black boxer briefs. “Lift your arms.”

  I do as he asks and he takes my top off, his eyes meeting up with my bra.

  “Pink… nice,” he says, laying on the compliments.

  “You got answers by what, killing someone?”

  He shakes his head, spinning me around and undoing my bra. I watch it drop to the floor. His sexy little games is not going to work. I spin back around, a little part of me feeling a bit insecure to be topless in front of Nash for the first time.

  “Nice.”

  I roll my eyes. “Is this what you do? You seduce people so you don’t have to answer them?”

  He grins, slipping his fingers into the waist of my jeans and he tugs them down not even worrying about the button or the zipper. “I didn’t kill anyone…relax.”

  He kisses my neck reassuring me. “Nothing like that. I’ve just been thinking about this since I left.”

  Oh hell.

  I open my bathroom door. But I press a hand into his chest stopping him before he can enter. “Explain first. Sex next.”

  “Take those off and we have a deal,” he demands, pointing at my pink underwear.

  My legs weaken. I slip them down and kick them off. “Okay.”

  He doesn’t answer right away, he’s too busy checking me out. The most intimate parts of me.

  “I had Fuzz help me locate a guy that knows all about Jackson and his dealings. And I very carefully got some information out of him.” He yanks me to him, and I am very aware of his attraction to me—it’s pressing against the front of me. “Jackson is aware of the tie your family has to Lee. He’s known all along.”

  I sigh. “So why would he be with my dad?”

  “He agreed to help him out with something. Something that has to do with your father.” He kisses my neck. “It’s not as sinister as you think it is.”

  I press my fingers into his lips stopping him. “Then what is it?”

  Nash shrugs. “You can only beat so much information out of someone. My guess, Jackson still has feelings for you and is trying to protect you or he knows something and is trying to use your father to his advantage.”