The Wrath of Sin

by Melissa Andrea

  Picking up the remote, I turned off the TV and turned on my side, facing away from Emily. Having her in my bed, sleeping soundly next to me, was different. I can’t say I hated it.

  The next morning I woke to the smell of bacon and eggs. I didn’t freak out since I knew I’d locked the door and put the key in a special place, but I couldn’t remember having bacon or eggs in my refrigerator, which was weird.

  Rolling onto my stomach, I crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a piss. By the time I opened the bathroom door, I could also smell cinnamon. My stomach growled its approval loudly.

  Padding through the apartment on bare feet, I stepped into the kitchen area and was met with Emily’s back. She was turned toward the stove cooking. She swayed her hips back and forth to a song in her head and I couldn’t help but get excited every time I was able to see a tiny hint of hip.

  She looked amazing in my clothes, even better in one of my football jerseys. I was managing some major morning wood as it was. The last thing I needed was to wake up to her looking all sexy, wrapped in my team’s colors, and cooking bacon. It was so right and so wrong on so many levels.

  I cleared my throat to let her know I was there, and she swung around with a spatula in her hand and a sweet smile on her face.

  “Good morning, lunatic. Your stomach was growling in your sleep. I thought you could use some breakfast.” Her smile started off mischievous before turning sweet.

  She turned off the stove and scooped a heaping of scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate. When she bent to open the oven, her shirt rode up on her hips and revealed her lace-covered ass and center. I growled and threw myself into a chair at the kitchen table.

  Turning with a pan of cinnamon rolls, she looked at me like I was crazy. “Is it bad that I cooked? You had all this in the refrigerator, and I was hungry, too.”

  She started to ice the cinnamon buns and hum to herself.

  I’d forgotten all about the food that Constance brought over when she took out all my beer and liquor.

  “It’s fine. It smells good,” I rasped as I ran my hands through my wild bed head.

  “Wait a minute. Was that a compliment, Mr. Sin?” She smiled at me over her shoulder. “I’d hate to think that you’re getting soft when it comes to me. You’ve spent all this time convincing me you were a bad guy.”

  “I assure you, Red. When it comes to you, there’s nothing about me that’s soft.”

  I saw a pretty pink blush rush up the back of her neck and I knew right away she caught my meaning.

  Flirting with my hostage… I was definitely going fucking nuts.

  We ate in silence, and it was as good as it smelled. I sat and finished up my orange juice as she went and got a shower. I used the time to figure out what the hell I was going to do. The situation, as much as I hated to admit it, was slowly turning out of my favor. I needed to get things back on track.

  “We need to talk,” she said sternly when she came out of the bathroom.

  She was running her fingers through her wet hair and her tank top stuck to the parts of her breasts and stomach that she didn’t dry well enough. It was hell—sexy, lustful, make-me-want-to-jack-off hell.

  “Then talk,” I said.

  “Sin, you can’t keep me here. I have a job to get back to and patients that depend on me. I know you’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours, but I assure you, my father isn’t a murderer.” She sat at the table in front of me and reached out for my hand. I pulled back. “I know you’re grieving, and everyone grieves differently, but what you’re doing is wrong. You’re misplacing your anger and hurt onto my father… and on me, too.”

  I’d heard all I could. I stood quickly, my chair scraping across the floor and smacking into the wall behind me.

  “Listen, Doc, with all due respect, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’m trying very hard right now to contain my anger, so I’m going to walk away.”

  “Sin, please just listen…” She started to talk, but I held up my hand and walked away.

  I wasn’t about to let her get me all fired up again. She was damn good at that.

  I was halfway across the room when she spoke again.

  “Okay, I call truce. But is there any way we could go outside today. The walls are starting to close in on me. I’ve been locked in here for three days. Please, Sin.” Desperation struck her voice.

  I remembered being mentally stuck in my apartment. I remembered not leaving for days and being trapped in a drunken stupor. It was hell, and as much as I wanted payback for what her father did, I could understand how easily the walls could close in on you. Just thinking about it took my breath away.

  I sighed loudly, as if she were annoying me, and then nodded in agreement. “Let me get a shower, and maybe we’ll go for a walk. If you pull any shit while we’re out, I’ll take it out on your father. Got it?”

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  I was closing the bathroom door when I heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

  An hour later, we were walking through a nearby park. Most of the time, I was stressing that she’d call out for help or take off running. Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for any of her shit.

  After walking around for an hour, I was ready to get back to the apartment.

  “Let’s head back,” I said as I reached out for her arm.

  As soon as we turned, we were face to face with a girl that looked familiar.

  “Emily Gelding! What the fuck? I’ve been calling you for days and nothing.” Her eyes switched from Emily to me. “Oh, I see what’s going on.” She smirked.

  Then I remembered the girl’s face. The night that Emily walked up to me and kissed me, she was with her.

  My heart rushed into my throat. I’d threatened that if she did anything I’d take it out on her father, but could Emily resist with her friend so close.

  I looked over at Emily and she was looking back at me. Her expression was apologetic, and I knew for sure she was going to squeal, but she surprised me.

  “Nicole, this is my friend Sin. Sin, this is Nicole,” she said with a half smile.

  Nicole looked me up and down in appreciation and it made my stomach turn. “Sin, huh? What a unique name.” She reached out and smacked playfully at Emily’s shoulder. “Looks like Truth or Dare worked out for you, Em. Sin, please make sure she doesn’t disappear completely. I know all about new loves and all that, but she needs to remember she still has friends.”

  Truth or Dare?

  Emily stiffened next to me, prompting me to put my arm around her shoulders. “Don’t you worry, Nicole. I’ll make sure you see plenty of Emily.” My face hurt when I smiled.

  I didn’t breathe again until the girls said their good-byes and we were back to my building. The whole going for a walk thing was bad for my blood pressure.

  “Thanks for that,” Emily said as I shut the door and locked it.

  “Everyone needs fresh air,” I said as I walked away.

  “What’s your real name?” she asked from behind me.

  I knew there would be a point when she’d ask. It wasn’t like I was going to give her that information. If by some chance she got away before my plans were complete, she’d be able to go straight to the cops and tell them.

  “That’s not important. My name’s Sin to you. Okay?” I pulled off my hoodie and threw it on the couch.

  Going into the kitchen, I pulled open the refrigerator and popped open a beer.

  “Fine. Can I ask you something?”

  I took a heavy swig. “What’s with all the questions? How about I ask a question?”

  She looked at me with wide eyes. “Sure. Ask whatever you want.”

  “Your friend said something about Truth or Dare. What was she talking about?”

  Her face turned three shades of red before she spoke.

  “It’s a really long, stupid story.” She waved away my question.

  “Good thing I have nothing but time,” I said as I took
another swig.

  She looked up at me with wounded eyes and then looked away. “I just needed to do something fun. You’ve teased me enough about Ethan. It’s not some great mystery that he’s not the most exciting man in the world. Honestly, I don’t even know why we’re together. You were right. He doesn’t love me any more than I love him.”

  She shrugged and it hurt my chest when I saw her eyes glaze over. “Anyway, I decided to be reckless with Nicole. We were out having drinks, and she dared me to kiss the next person who walked in the door. The next person just happened to be you. So as you can see, being reckless can get you kidnapped and held hostage. I’ll never be reckless again.” She sarcastically laughed.

  “You’re wrong,” I said.

  She looked up at me in confusion.

  “I told you why I did this. Don’t blame yourself. Blame your father.”

  I was tired of talking. I stood up and walked away.

  29

  Emily

  I was getting nowhere when it came to Sin. Every time I attempted to get close to him or question him, all it did was piss him off. He was going to be a hard nut to crack, but I knew I could do it.

  When I’d asked for some time outside¸ I had no idea he’d go for it. That alone proved he wasn’t the evil person he pretended to be.

  After we talked for five minutes, he left the room and left me alone for the rest of the night. Even though I knew it was locked, I tried the door once. A few hours later and I was falling asleep on the old plaid couch.

  I would’ve rather cleaned his nasty apartment again than go to his room to get in the bed, so I slipped off my flats, pulled my feet up onto the couch, and fell asleep in the fetal position.

  My toes were cold and the couch springs dug into my side, but it would have to do. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice.

  I don’t know how long I slept, but at some point during the night, I was taken into a pair of warm arms, placed on the bed, and covered with a thick blanket. Not once did I open my eyes, and when the warmth soaked into my pores, I fell right back to sleep.

  The next morning I woke in Sin’s empty bed. Wrapping the warm blanket around my shoulders, I walked into the living room to find Sin on the uncomfortable couch, wrapped in a sheet.

  I removed the blanket from my shoulders and covered him before going into the kitchen to cook some breakfast.

  I didn’t have to do it, but I really needed to get on his good side. Food seemed to do the trick when it came to him.

  I was almost done with breakfast when he woke. Stretching with his arms above his head, I was able to see his bare chest completely. His shoulders were thick, and so was his chest. His abdominal muscles rippled as he turned at the waist to stretch his back.

  “Like what you see?” he asked with a smile.

  I quickly averted my eyes as he walked by to go to the bathroom.

  I scrapped the semi-burnt eggs onto two plates, threw some bacon on there, and fixed us both a glass of orange juice.

  I sat at the table and started in on my food. When Sin came out of the bathroom, he went straight to the refrigerator. Pulling out a bottle of vodka, he unscrewed the top and held the bottle above his glass of orange juice.

  I reached out and stopped him from pouring it.

  “Would you please just eat breakfast with me? No alcohol—just us and the food.”

  I thought for sure he’d say something super sarcastic, pour the entire bottle into his glass, and suck it down just for spite, but he didn’t. He nodded once, screwed the lid back on, and sat down to eat.

  It wasn’t a lot, but little by little, I was making an impact. Even if it was just a tiny bit, I was helping, and that made me feel a billion times better.

  We spent the day watching reruns and once I even heard him laugh a little. He had a nice laugh when he wasn’t being a sarcastic prick. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Grabbing the remote, I turned off the TV and turned toward him on the couch.

  “So let’s talk,” I said with a smile.

  Running his hands down his face, he sighed loudly. “Oh God, not this shit again.”

  “Come on. It could be fun. Let’s play a game. It’s called ask-tell. I’ll ask you a question or tell you something about myself, and then you do the same to me.”

  I was running out of time. I could tell every day that he was thinking harder and harder on his big plan. I needed to get in his head sooner rather than later.

  “That sounds like hell,” he said bluntly.

  I kept talking. “Okay, I’ll go first. My full name is Emily Gelding, and I work as a grief counselor at Creekside Medical. Okay, now you.”

  He looked at me like he was bored out of his mind. “Okay. My name’s Sin, and the color red gets me hot,” he said with a smirk.

  I reached out and playfully smacked his arm. “I’m being serious, Sin. Tell me something real.”

  “Seriously, Red. This is stupid.”

  I playfully stuck out my bottom lip and tilted my head. “Please. You are holding me hostage, you know? The least you could do is play a game with me.”

  He chuckled to himself, earning himself another smile from me.

  “Fine. I want to go to Paris one day.” He took a swig from his beer.

  “Okay, that’s good. Why Paris?” I asked.

  He leaned his head back on the headrest of the couch and closed his eyes like he was in pain.

  “Because of Chelsea,” he said with a frown.

  “Tell me about Chelsea.” I felt him tense against me, and I put my hand on his chest before he could turn into evil Sin. “Please. I just want to know more about her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s important to you.”

  “I told you not to patient me, Doc.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Give it a rest already, Sin. Unlike you, I have no master plan. The least you could do is tell me about your daughter since you think you need to avenge her death.”

  “I don’t think I need to do it. I have to do it. I won’t let that bastard kill anyone else.”

  This was not going the way it was supposed to, and I felt a spark of anger at his words.

  “My father didn’t kill anyone,” I said tightly.

  He turned toward me. “And what if he did, Red? What will you tell yourself then?”

  “If I’m wrong, I’ll deal with it. Now will you tell me about your daughter?”

  He sighed but asked, “What do you want to know?”

  “What’s your favorite memory of her?”

  He took a deep breath, as if the air were courage and he needed as much of it as he could handle.

  “She loved fairy tales. She lived off them, and while she was in the hospital, it reminded her that there was still beauty in life. Even if it was make-believe.”

  “That’s sweet. What about Paris?” I asked with a smile, and he smiled a little back at me.

  “Paris.” His smile grew larger when he said the word. “Princesses were her favorite, and before she died, she used to talk about going to Sleeping Beauty’s tower in Paris. She said something about meeting her Prince Charming there. I didn’t know what she was talking about. Sometimes when she was on her medicine she’d get kind of loopy and talk craziness. Then one day we were watching TV in her hospital bed and she starting pointing and saying, ‘Look, Daddy, it’s my tower!’ She was pointing at the Eiffel Tower.” He put his head down and took another breath.

  I could tell it was killing him to talk about Chelsea, but I also knew it was good for him.

  “She said she wanted to go at night when it was all lit up to wait for her Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. He’d tell her something really sweet and then they’d shake hands.” I gave him a puzzled look and he smiled. “They didn’t kiss when I told the stories.”

  I giggled. “Gotcha. Continue.”

  “That’s it. And then they’d live happily ever after.” Sadness moved across his face. He looked at me with a serious expression. “I
never got to take her. So one day I’m going to go.”

  I felt a tear streak down my face and I quickly wiped it away before he could see it. His words broke my heart, and for the first time, I got an idea how badly he was really hurting. As a grief counselor, I should’ve known. I should’ve seen the symptoms, but I was too wrapped up in what was happening to me that I didn’t do what I promised I’d always do: put the patient first.

  “I hope you make it there one day… for Chelsea.”

  I reached out for his hand and for the first time he didn’t pull away.

  “Me too.” He turned away and took another drink from his beer. “Your turn.”

  We spent an hour asking and telling. I was careful not to ask things that I knew would send him over the edge, and I made sure everything I told him was something that would make him smile. I was slowly starting to understand him.

  “Tell me about Chelsea’s mother.”

  His hands made fists on his knees, and I waited, giving himself time to answer me.

  “Her name was Victoria.”

  “Were you married?”

  “Yes, we were high school sweethearts.”

  “Were you in love with her?”

  “Not the way she deserved, but I did love her. Victoria didn’t get along with her parents at all. She was a wild child and they were hell bent on breaking her spirit. They just wanted to control her and there was no controlling Victoria.” He smiled to himself, and I wondered what he was remembering.

  “Victoria asked me to run away with her three days after we graduated. She’d had a big fight with her parents. They were wanting to send her somewhere, but she wouldn’t tell me where. I’d been friends with her, in love with her, and then… I didn’t know.” His voice broke and I frowned in confusion, but he was talking again. “I’d never seen her so upset before. Her parents were getting to her and I couldn’t bear to see her that way, so I said yes. My parents were dead. It was just Constance, me, and our aunt, so I said yes.

  “I didn’t have much money or much of anything, really. I packed it up, took every penny I’d been saving from two summers of doing odd jobs, and took off into the night.”