The Sins that Ruin (Obsidian Knights Secret Society #3)

Epilogue

SCARLETT

“You asshole.”

Those aren’t the words I planned to say. At all. My heart’s shredded, thrumming and aching, and I know that somewhere between when we met and when he walked away without a word, I fell in love.

I never meant to, but how could I not?

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Hard, sensuous, wild, cruel, sweet. And sweet’s not a word people use for him. But it’s there, down in the depths of him. And when you know what to look for…

It’s there. Precious. Tiny, shining, pure.

But his beauty isn’t why I fell in love. It’s why I was attracted to him. His touch is why I fell in lust.

The path, that twisted, dangerous path to his heart, to the things he is at his core, that’s how I fell in love.

He’s funny and dark. He’s dangerous with that nugget of sweetness. He tests every limit I have.

And this is the cruelest part.

I know he’s an asshole.

But he’s mine.

He’s staring at me, his expression the most naked I’ve ever seen. Thoughts fly across his face, and he looks like he’s about to fall. I can almost see the crush of his heart, it trying to beat, uncertain about whether or not it’s about to break.

“What…? Scarlett, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I called that number Amelia had, the one you gave her. They said they’d pass on the message.”

His eyes narrow. “So I don’t have to bring something in to headquarters?”

I stare at him. The gulf between us is a few feet, but it might as well be the Grand Canyon.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“Probably not. Go home, Scarlett. I’m not in the mood.”

My hands shake as my heart starts to lacerate. Maybe I read that naked expression wrong. Maybe he doesn’t care after all.

“Malone, you let them live…”

“And you thought that was enough to think you, what?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Love me?”

He stalks over to the bar and pours himself a drink. This time he reaches for the bottle of Japanese whiskey.

“No, I thought… I thought I hated you for a few days. You…” I swallow. “You?—”

“Threatened to kill your father and shot your uncle.”

“Stop,” I say, frustration lacing my tone, “interrupting me. I need to say this.”

I hold his gaze, trying to get my words in order.

He downs his drink, then pours himself another. “I’ve got a date, so if you hurry, I’d appreciate it.”

“No, you don’t.” He might, just might. But he also looks like he hasn’t slept, his clothes are rumpled, and he needs a shave. It’s the most disheveled I’ve ever seen him. No, I don’t think he has a date.

And if he does, I just might borrow his gun and shoot her in the toe or something.

“I’m busy.”

“I don’t believe that either.” This time I cross over to him and take the drink from his hand.

His eyes glint with a spark of green fire as he pours himself another.

“I hated you. Not because you shot my uncle and wanted him dead. Not even over Dad. I don’t… I don’t think you’d have done it.”

“I would have.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I hated you,” I say, “because you lied to me. You betrayed me. You should have told me what happened, who you thought killed your mom. But you didn’t trust me enough to help you.”

“Would you have?”

I think about it. “Yes. Even if it was just to prove you wrong.” I rub my eyes and take a swallow. “Amelia’s okay. She’s messed up, but she’s staying with some friends. She’s not ready to go home and live with Dad. Her father—uncle—father… he wasn’t her birth father, but he raised her. Uncle Grant deserved that bullet, and if you killed him, I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Christ, you would have.”

He’s wrong, I’d have probably blamed myself, and as he looks at me, a muscle twitching in his jaw, I think he knows that.

“But the thing is, I also fell in love with you.”

“I’m not good, Baby Red.”

My heart throbs hard with that. It’s a slip of the tongue, but I’ll take it.

“I’m not a good man.”

“Did I say I wanted a good one?” I swallow hard. “Why didn’t you kill Grant?”

“Amelia had been through enough.” The words are so glib, I crash down again.

“And my father? If he’d been to blame, would you have pulled the trigger?”

He slams his glass down and stalks off, but there’s no way he’s getting off that easy. I follow and he spins to face me. “Do you want fucking blood, Scarlett?”

“I want the truth, and then I’ll go away.”

“Promise?”

I blink back the tears that blur my vision and sting my eyes. “Yes.”

He breathes out. “I’d planned to kill him. I knew it would hurt you, leave you broken and then I…” He stops. “Then I found I couldn’t do it. I was driving like a maniac to get to you at the warehouse and I just knew. I’m not going to say I didn’t want to shoot him. And it took everything I had not to shoot your fucking uncle dead. So many crimes against my mother, you, Amelia. And he hurt you.”

Malone’s mouth twists into something ugly and violent, and all I want is to smooth it away. “He fucking hurt you. No one, no one gets to put hands on you and live. No one.”

“The other man?—”

“I know what he did now. But he deserved to die because he also hurt you. And he hurt Amelia. Crimes, Scarlett, always need to be paid for.”

“You—”

“Yeah, I told you I’d let others touch you, play with you, fuck you. But I didn’t mean it. Not a word. Fuck, even if I meant it, I think if they physically tried, I’d have cut them down. As I said, I’m not a good man.”

I nod, tears slipping down my face. I swipe them away angrily with the back of my hand. Then I put the drink I took from him on a nearby table, turn, and stumble toward the front door. I try to find my bag, but my vision is blurred, and suddenly I’m in strong arms.

“Don’t fucking cry, Baby Red. I’m not worth it.”

“Let me go.” I punch his chest, but he holds me tighter. “I made you a promise and…”

I wrench myself free and snatch up my bag where I dropped it on the sofa.

“I love you, Malone. I’m in love with you. I thought… I thought maybe you could love me back, but I was wrong. Just know you are worth it. To me.”

My heart’s in pieces, turning into bleeding dust, and I head for the door when he speaks.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He sounds surly, angry, outraged. “Who wouldn’t love you? Good God, Red, you’re perfect. Of course I’m in love with you. But I shouldn’t be, and you deserve better. I’m trying to let you go.”

“Okay.” Hope surges so bright I almost have to shade my eyes. But those are just words. He needs to mean it.

So I keep walking to the door.

It’s not enough to say it after telling me to go. He needs to fight for me.

If he doesn’t, then I’m going. And I will never see him again.

I reach for the door and twist it open.

He doesn’t say a thing.

The tears push at my eyes again, but this time, I won’t let them fall.

I press the button for the elevator at the end of the private foyer.

“You’re going to leave?”

His words ride through my blood, but I don’t turn. “I made a promise.”

“Goddammit, Scarlett.” He spits the words like angry bullets.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to turn the fuck around.”

The command in his voice calls to me, wraps around me like love. But it’s not enough.

“You’re a coward, Malone. You ran off on me. Never checked if I was okay. Never said a word. You just left. And now? You made me promise to leave. I’m no coward, so I’ll go.” I wait a second. “I’m getting on the elevator.”

“And if I don’t want you to?”

“I’d say you need to make up your goddamn mind about what it is you want.”

He’s silent, and the elevator dings. The doors open. Then his hand slams down on the button and his other one curls around my arm.

“You.”

I stand there. The word vibrates through me with a sweetness I’m not sure what to do with.

“I want you.”

His other hand coils into my ponytail and he pulls my head to one side, his mouth skimming along the skin of my throat, making me shake and shudder, and everything inside me lights up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree.

Malone stands behind me, his body heat seeping into me, and he whispers, “What the fuck do you think I want?”

“I don’t know, Malone. You told me to go.”

“I was trying to save you.”

“Fuck you, you’re not the demon you think you are.”

“And you’re not the good girl, are you?”

Heat streaks through me as he spins me around. “Malone,” I whisper.

He kisses me, a soft, sweet kiss full of promises he doesn’t know how to voice.

“I fucking left the city for three weeks. And I missed you. Every fucking minute of every fucking day. Not one woman could catch my attention. They weren’t you. But I stayed away because, fuck, Red. You deserved better. You do deserve better.”

“Do you really love me?”

“With every cell in my body. I… Love is fucking chaos and I thrive on that. But shit, that kind of chaos is living on the edge. You know you’re better without me and now… now you’ve made me admit I love you, and how the fuck do I let you go?”

“You don’t.”

“I watched a rope display, and all I could think and see was you. How perfect you were. I want that with you naked. I want you up there and me fucking you. I’m not the happy house guy.”

“Just because I make cupcakes,” I say, “doesn’t mean I want that, either.”

“What the fuck do we do now?”

The great, strong, dominating man is asking me that?

My heart swells.

“What the fuck do we do? You deserve the world, Scarlett.”

“No, I deserve you.” I look up at him and rise up, kissing him.

His arms come around me and he drags me back into the apartment, his lips plastered against mine the entire time. Then he slams the door and pushes me up against it. “I don’t live here, by the way.”

“No shit.”

“Brat.”

“Do you want to be with me for a day? A month? A lifetime? Because…” I stop and take a breath. “I know what we do.”

“And what’s that?”

I slide my arms around his neck, and he brings one up to circle my throat and it’s like coming home, the endorphins strap on wings and fly.

“Marry me?”

He squeezes, light, firm, perfect. I can breathe but I feel it. His strength. His ownership. My belonging.

“Are you proposing, Scarlett?”

“Yes.”

He grabs me and swings me around, guiding me toward the sofa in the living room. I reach for his jeans once I’m rested against the plush cushion, but he just gives me a hard look. “You know better than that. I want you to ask again. Properly.”

“Marry me… Sir?”

“Oh, Baby Red. Yes. Fucking yes. On your hands and knees.”

The euphoria is strong like the vanilla in the air from the cakes cooling in the kitchen. He flips up my skirt. I know I’m wet. The moment he put his hand around my neck, heated desire pooled between my legs.

He tears off my panties and thrusts his beautiful, hard cock into me, shuddering to a stop when he’s balls deep.

I come.

Immediately.

I’ve missed this, I’ve missed him inside of me.

Malone wraps his hand in my hair again and grabs my waist with the other. He slams into me with hard, brutal thrusts, the kind that bring cascades of pleasure showering down. The kind that own. Stamp me as his. And his shuddering groan tells me he is, in no uncertain terms, mine.

I push back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and soon I’m coming again.

“Fuck, I love you.” He comes hard, tremors rocking his body, his cock a violent twitch, pushing hard against that spot deep inside that amplifies my own orgasm.

He pulls out and flips me around so I’m wrapped around him and we’re face-to-face.

Malone kisses me hard and deep. It’s a claiming of a different sort. Of souls and forever. And when he breaks the kiss, I let out a deep sigh and rest my head on his shoulder, his heart beating erratically, yet in time with mine.

“You didn’t let me go,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says. “I told you, I’m not a good man.”

“If you not letting me go means you’re not good, then I’m glad.”

He brushes his mouth against my cheek as I lift my head. “Baby Red, you own my heart, and it took you almost walking out of my life to realize I can’t live without you.” He pauses, then he pushes me off him and gets up, tucking himself away. “So…”

I look at him.

There’s evil in his eyes, amusement. This is Malone. He turns like quicksilver. “Wanna come see your new home? I think you’ll like the basement.”

“Does it come with ropes?”

“Absofuckinglutely.”

“Yes.”

He takes my hand and draws me in, kissing me again, a soft, dreamy kiss, full of love and romance and spice.

“I guess I have a lifetime to make this all up to you.”

“I guess you do.” I smile. “Cupcake for the road?”

And I know, as we head to the kitchen, tonight’s going to be a wild one. A good one.

Maybe Amelia can live with us.

Maybe we’ll travel the world.

Maybe I’ll open that bakery.

So many possibilities shine, but I know that whatever comes, it’s going to be with Malone.

And it’s going to be good.

Perfect chaos.

For the rest of our lives.