Confess (Sin City Salvation #1)

by A. Zavarelli

  “Oh my God.” I could only imagine the devastation this would cause Emmanuel. The sudden realization that even though your mother raised you, she always secretly resented you. It would tear him apart.

  “Isn’t there anything else we can do?” I asked.

  I said we as if we were a team, but realistically, I knew that the entire burden fell on Lucian.

  He shook his head. “I’ve done everything I can. The only option I have now is to tell him.”

  I sat back and digested his words. It wasn’t fair. There was so much in the world that was unfair, and it stung my eyes when I thought about the awfulness of it all. My heart ached for Emmanuel and for Lucian too. I knew how difficult this would be for him. “When are you going to tell him?”

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “First thing in the morning.”

  I nodded. “What can I do to help?”

  He looked at me, offering a weak smile. “Your presence is all I need.”

  “Then you have it,” I whispered.

  EMMANUEL WAS QUIET, AND HE had been for so long, I didn’t know if he planned on speaking at all. Inwardly, I understood that he was numb. His eyes were cloudy and unfocused as he stared at the wall. Another cut marred his cheek, and he’d limped his way in here. It was something I told him I’d address, but Emmanuel argued. He didn’t want to go into confinement, and I couldn’t say that I blamed him. But it was the only way to keep him safe, and now I had to decide what was best for him.

  Considering the news I’d just delivered, I didn’t think he could handle any additional stresses. There was only so much life could throw at a person before he broke.

  “Mr. West?” An eerie calmness settled over his features as his eyes moved to meet mine.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for telling me the truth and believing in me anyway. I know you didn’t have to, and that means a lot.”

  “You’re welcome, Emmanuel.”

  He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I always kinda suspected something was off, you know. My mom got really weird whenever I asked about my dad. She would just shut down.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Probably didn’t want to hurt me.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “I wrote that for her, though. Finally found the words I wanted to say. I just hope she’ll listen.”

  “She will.” Maybe it was a lie, but I wanted to believe she’d change her mind.

  Emmanuel hung his head and stared at the table. “It makes sense if she doesn’t. I get it.”

  “Don’t let this define you,” I told him. “Whatever your father was, that isn’t you. You are your own man. I need you to believe that, and I need you to be confident in that one steadfast truth on Monday.”

  When his head came up, he seemed to look through me as he nodded. “I won’t let you down, Mr. West.”

  I couldn’t tell if his confidence was authentic, but I had no choice other than to accept it.

  I gestured to the wound on his face. “Will you tell me what happened?”

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “You know how this place is.”

  “Let me report it,” I insisted. “It would be best if you had some peace and quiet during the trial.”

  Emmanuel drummed his fingers against the table. “I don’t want that. I’ll go crazy if they lock me up in one of those rooms. It’s okay, I swear. I’ll be okay.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I was afraid that as timid as Emmanuel might be, he was still capable of blowing up if they continued to provoke him. We didn’t need that. But in the end, it was his call to make.

  “We’ll take it day by day,” I said. “If anything changes, you can let me know. I need you to let me know.”

  “I will.” He jerked his chin.

  I secured the letter in my briefcase before standing. “I’ll deliver this to your mom.”

  His eyes were glassy when he nodded. “Thanks, Mr. West.”

  IT WAS PAST TEN WHEN I wandered toward the kitchen in search of my morning coffee. I’d slept in, figuring it wouldn’t make a difference, considering that Lucian was already at work and I no longer had class. But I found that wasn’t the case at all when I rounded the corner and saw him sitting at the breakfast bar, paper in hand. He was dressed in his casual clothes, shirt and jeans, and he had an empty cup beside him waiting for me.

  I sat down next to him, and he looked at me with a wry grin.

  “You’re not at work today?” I asked.

  I expected him to question what I was doing. Staying home and sleeping in would most definitely be against Lucian’s rules, and considering I hadn’t told him about the test yet, I was certain he would be angry and assume the worst. But he didn’t. Lucian never did, and I wasn’t sure when I would finally learn that.

  “I took the day off,” he said. “Like you.”

  “I passed my test last week,” I blurted. “That’s why I’m home.”

  “I know.” His eyes collided with mine, warm and proud.

  My heart skipped a beat, and heat gathered in my cheeks. I didn’t think I would ever get tired of hearing him say he was proud of me.

  “I was wondering when you were going to tell me,” Lucian said.

  “You were working so much, and I didn’t want to burden you.”

  He turned into me, his knee bumping against mine as the warmth of his hand found my shoulder. “You are never a burden to me. What you’ve done is nothing short of amazing, Gypsy, and I want you to feel comfortable enough to share those things with me.”

  “It’s just a GED,” I murmured. “It’s nothing compared to what you do.”

  “It’s not just a GED,” he argued. “It’s the first step to whatever you want to do with your life. You’ve proven to yourself that you can conquer your fears, and I hope now you understand there isn’t anything that can hold you back from your goals.”

  I gave him a weak smile. The problem was that I didn’t know what my goals were. Lucian wanted me to be something great, but I still wasn’t certain I was capable of that.

  “Here.” He reached beneath the bar and picked up a paper bag, sliding it over to me. “I got you something.”

  “For passing my test?”

  “For the other thing you forgot to mention.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Happy Birthday, pet.”

  My chest cavity flooded with warmth, and I felt like I was going to cry as I examined the present on the counter. The last time anyone had given me a real present was before my mom left. When we got older, Birdie would steal me a Twinkie or something, and that was always sacred to me, but this was something else. This was a gift from Lucian, who had remembered my birthday even when he was working himself to death.

  “Is that why you took the day off?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he answered. “You’re stuck with me for the entire day.”

  “That’s why you let me sleep in,” I smirked.

  He gestured to the present. “Are you going to open it?”

  I brought my trembling fingers to the bag and delved inside, retrieving two separate, small boxes.

  The first one that I opened was a simple bar necklace with an engraving of a scripture, Isaiah 43:2. I looked at Lucian in question, and his voice was thick when he spoke.

  “There will come a day when you will want to leave me,” he said solemnly. “I’m prepared for it, and I won’t blame you for it. It’s important to me that you know you have nothing to regret. When you do walk away, I want you to carry no shame or guilt.”

  Tears burned my eyes as I shook my head, unable to give voice to the words I wanted to say. That was never going to happen. I was so certain of it at that moment, and I wanted to hate him for bringing it up. This wasn’t a birthday gift. It was a goodbye gift.

  “Gypsy.” He stood and wrapped his arms around me, cocooning me against his chest as he buried his face in my hair. “I want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you.”


  My heart slammed against my rib cage, and the tears I’d tried to hold back fell freely. I didn’t understand him. It always felt like he was preparing to send me away yet desperately trying to hold on at the same time. I couldn’t return his words. I was terrified and hurt and warm and vulnerable. He’d said the words I never knew I wanted to hear from him more than anything, but they came with a price much steeper than I wanted to pay. Those words were conditional. They weren’t timeless. There was a limit to how much he could love me, and for how long, but I just didn’t know what those limits were.

  “Please open the other box,” he said.

  I turned away from him and wiped my tears privately, gathering myself together for the next uncertainty he might spring on me. But when I opened the box, there was nothing more than a piece of paper folded together with a scribble inside.

  Thank you.

  Lucian didn’t explain what it meant. Instead, he showed me, lifting his shirt to reveal the fresh tattoo on his chest. It was my name, concealed in the outline of a sparrow, perched upon a morning glory. The entire image was inked in blue, and it had stolen my breath.

  “I know you’re thinking the worst,” Lucian murmured as he brought my fingers to his skin. “You always do. But this is my promise that for as long as I live, and even in death, you will be a part of me.”

  “I HATE DOCTOR’S OFFICES.” BIRDIE removed a tongue depressor from the jar on the counter for her own amusement.

  “You didn’t have to come with me,” I grumbled.

  She’d been here for two days, and already, she was taking over my life again.

  “What else would I do?” She popped her bubblegum. “Sit at Lucian’s house since you won’t let me go anywhere else on my own?”

  “It’s for your own protection,” I snapped.

  Birdie blinked at me and shook her head. “You’re cranky.”

  “I’m not cranky. I’m nervous.”

  I hated doctor’s offices too. I always imagined the worst and usually never worked up the courage to go because I was certain they were going to diagnose me with some incurable condition.

  “Do you think it’s a thyroid problem?” Birdie prodded.

  “Why would you say that?”

  She poked my stomach with her tongue depressor. “You’ve gotten a little soft around the middle. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Gee, thanks, B. I can feel the sisterly love.”

  She scrunched up her nose and shot me a playful smile. “You know I’m just joking around. I’d love you no matter what you looked like.”

  “Even if I had a huge growth on my face that couldn’t be removed?” I teased.

  Birdie made a gagging noise but managed a nod. “Sure, even then.”

  She plucked a cotton ball from another jar and tossed it at me right before the doctor entered.

  “Having some fun, I see?” the doctor muttered her disapproval.

  I shot Birdie a warning look that told her to behave as I sat up straighter in my chair and clutched my purse against me.

  “Would you mind getting on the table?” the doctor asked as she looked over my chart and typed in some notes.

  I did as she asked, and she went about the process of lifting my shirt and applying some goop to my stomach, explaining that she was performing an ultrasound. Naturally, I assumed that I must have had a tumor or something equally nasty growing in there, and I was so tense I couldn’t relax even though she’d told me to several times.

  “Did you find anything?” I wheezed.

  A whooshing sound filled the room at a steady interval as she paused. “Yes, I did. Congratulations.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glanced at me briefly. “You’re having a baby.”

  A dry cough got lodged in my throat when I tried to process what she’d just said. “Inside me?”

  “That’s usually where babies grow,” she mused.

  I looked at Birdie, who had gone white as a sheet, and I could only imagine that I must look the same right now.

  “When?”

  She moved the wand around a few more times, pausing over the grainy image on the screen before she formulated an answer.

  “I’d say you’re about two months along at this stage, which would explain the dizziness. It’s very common in the first trimester.”

  “Oh.”

  It was the only thing I could manage to get out as she cleaned me up and instructed me to sit up. I felt like my head was underwater when the doctor explained the follow-up appointment and blood tests and all the things that happened next when you were diagnosed with having another human growing inside you.

  I barely heard a word of it until she sat down and examined me from her stool. “The other symptoms you described initially could be pregnancy related,” she said. “But they sound more like anxiety. Do you have any history of anxiety?”

  Only every second of every day. And now more of a reason than ever, though it felt like my anxiety was about to bleed into a full-on panic attack. My heart pounded against my chest in time to the word.

  Baby.

  Baby.

  Baby.

  All I could think about was Lucian’s face at that picnic. The kid with the toy gun. He told me how he couldn’t look at children anymore because they reminded him of Dawson. My heart was sinking in my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to hold it together.

  He didn’t want a baby. He’d been down this road before, and it all ended so horribly, I couldn’t blame him. But I had to wonder why he’d never even mentioned birth control. It gave me another reason to hate him, which I’d been carefully storing up in my arsenal for the inevitable moment when he would tell me our marriage was over and it was time to say goodbye.

  But I didn’t want to hate him. And I couldn’t hate this situation, no matter how much he might not like it. I was irresponsible too. We both were. And this was what happened when you played with fire.

  We both got burned.

  “Gypsy?”

  I looked at the doctor and tried to shake myself out of it, but Birdie was the one to answer.

  “She’s always been anxious. She has panic attacks sometimes, and she worries too much. She imagines every worst-case scenario, and she’s overly protective—”

  “All right, Birdie.” I glared. “She gets it.”

  The doctor nodded and scribbled down some notes before returning her gaze to me. “We have several options to cope with anxiety during pregnancy. There are some low-risk prescriptions available, but I’m hesitant to write you a script if it’s not necessary. I’d prefer that you see a therapist first to employ some behavioral therapies instead.”

  “I already have a therapist,” I told her.

  Birdie arched her brow at me, doubtful, but it was a half-truth. Father Hawk was like my therapist, and even if he wasn’t medically qualified, he did help to ease my anxiety. I already knew that when I had a spare moment to speak with him, that was the first place I’d be going.

  “Great,” the doctor answered. “I’ll just need their name.”

  “Cristian Hawk,” I replied quietly.

  Her eyebrows pinched together as she scribbled down the name. “All right. I’d like you to see him on a weekly basis for the time being, and we can go over any additional treatment plans at your follow-up visit.”

  I nodded, and it felt as though cement weighed me down against the table.

  “Any other questions?” the doctor asked.

  I offered her a pacifying smile. “Nope. I think we’re good.”

  “YOU CAN’T TELL LUCIAN.”

  Birdie looked at me from the passenger seat. “I thought you weren’t having sex with him.”

  I did not want to have this conversation with my sister. We didn’t have the normal introduction to the birds and the bees, and it was a topic we’d both avoided at all costs for most of our life. At least with each other.

  It was still too raw to discuss. Or
at least, that was what I told myself because it was more comfortable that way. I didn’t ever want to know the gory details of what happened to Birdie while I was in juvie. That was probably selfish of me, but I didn’t think my brain could actually handle it. But if there were ever a day that she came to me and told me she wanted to discuss it, I would have done it. For her.

  “We were having sex,” I said. “It happened later.”

  She was quiet for a while, staring out the window while I drove with an iron grip on the steering wheel. When she finally did speak again, her voice was softer. “You know I’ll help you. We can get a place together, and I’ll learn how to take care of babies. It’s going to be all right.”

  I shook my head. “Lucian’s going to help me.”

  I wanted to believe what I was telling her, but I didn’t believe it myself, and I just hoped Birdie didn’t sense it.

  “Please don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him, Gypsy,” she said.

  I shot her a defensive look and shrugged my shoulders. “We have a contract, remember? Two years.”

  “This isn’t about the contract,” she argued. “I can see it on your face when you look at him. Have you forgotten that this is the same guy who’s blackmailing you? Have you forgotten that he’s a piece of shit attorney who—”

  “Don’t say that about him,” I snarled.

  Birdie looked at me, eyes wide, and I immediately felt guilty. I’d never yelled at her before. But my limbs were shaking, and now was not the time to have this conversation. I wished she would see that.

  “You don’t know the kind of work he does,” I explained. “Nobody does. His cases are more complicated than they sound.”

  “Have you considered that maybe you don’t really know him?” Birdie replied. “What if he doesn’t even want kids?”

  Her words hit closer to home than she could ever know, and I had to rein in my patience before I answered. “Look, it doesn’t matter, B. You don’t need to concern yourself with this. Lucian and I will talk about it when I’m ready.”