10. Sin
SIN
I lean against my motorcycle, second-guessing why I rode all the way here.
Do I really want to drag Sapphire into my family drama? It’s fucking pathetic.
Then again, I’ve never been able to get a handle on the women in my life, including the woman riding toward me. A trail of dust flails behind her as she gets closer, and my cock hardens. I’ve missed her, truth be told, and I don’t care admitting it.
These last few days have been hell without her.
When she dismounts, her short-sleeved vest hugs her in all the right places as she struts toward me, sapphire-colored stilettos on her manicured feet.
“You wear those to bed, princess?”
Her lips twitch. “You already know the answer to that, Sin.”
My first instinct is to reach for her, but I told her I’d give her time and space—yet here I am after two days.
I palm the back of my head. “Was it a mistake comin’ here?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “How do you know where I live?”
I chagrin, giving her a ‘really?’ look, then purse my lips. Her eyes dart to my mouth. “It’s a small town, not that hard to figure out. Plus, you have a big mouth. All you ever talk about is your cabin at Rustic Grove whenever you’re in Blackstone.”
“Wow, I have a big mouth? Any more insults you’d like to throw my way?”
This time I do reach for her, pulling on the lapels of her vest. “Not an insult,” I mutter, my lips close to hers. “You know I love what that big mouth can take.”
Is it just me, or does she shiver involuntarily?
“Thanks to you, I’ve been walking around with a limp for the last few days.”
I grin wider. “I told you I liked it rough. You didn’t complain when your legs were wrapped around my face.”
“Not your tongue that did the damage, big boy.”
I love her fucking praise, but talking about my cock like that? Yeah, it’s a massive head swell.
I press a kiss to her lips, but I don’t linger. “I missed you.”
She blinks in surprise. “Sin.”
“I know, I know, I’m a fuckin’ sap, tell me about it. But shit went down with my mom, and I had to get out of town.”
I pull back, releasing her from my clutches. Her face softens. “Let’s talk inside.”
I nod, following her as she leads me to the front.
The second the door opens, I jump in surprise as a huge cat comes flying at us.
“Holy fuck,” I mutter.
She bends, then picks the thing up. “Pickles, meet Sin. Don’t worry, sweetie, he’s a big softie underneath all that brawn.” She turns to face me. “Be nice to Pickles, he rules this house. If he doesn’t like you, well, sorry, but you’re toast.”
Not a cat guy, never have been.
“That’s not a cat,” I say, pointing at it. “That’s a fuckin’ Bengal tiger or some shit.”
She rolls her eyes. “He’s a Maine coon, and he’s sensitive, so watch it.”
“Is it friendly?” Just as I ask, the giant furball rolls onto its back, purring as Sapphire coddles it and strokes its tummy.
“Duh.”
“So if I try to stroke it, he won’t take my hand off?”
“I guess the only way to find out is to be brave and see.” There’s humor in her tone that I don’t appreciate because I like my hands. I fucking need my hands.
The beast stares me down, and I don’t know whether he’s gonna lunge or purr some more, but when the back of my knuckles brush against his head, he closes his eyes.
“Weird, he usually hates strangers,” Sapphire says, kissing him on the head.
And now I’m jealous of a cat.
My eyes narrow as I pull away. “You knew there was a possibility he’d bite me and you still let me pet him?”
“Relax,” she chides. “I’m joking. Pickles is a softie through and through. He’d never hurt anyone who’s good to his momma.”
I swallow, unsure as Pickles opens his eyes and stares at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s a stand-off. He knows the pussy I’m here for ain’t a damn Maine coon.
“I think I’ll take my chances and keep my hands to myself.”
“Wuss,” she says, setting Pickles on the ground. He sits, staring up at her with awe in his eyes. I can see I have some competition here if he rules the damn house.
“So, what happened with your mom?”
I almost forgot why I came, and the main reason wasn’t to talk about my mom. It was to see her.
I fill her in, and when I’m done, she has sympathy in her eyes. “I get where you’re coming from, but you still should’ve told Mika.”
“I was going to.”
She levels me with a glare that reads: bull shit, and says, “When? After your meal?”
“Don’t give me a hard time. You know what it was like growin’ up with that woman. She didn’t give a shit about us, and now all of a sudden, she’s ready to be our mom? What if I’m not ready to be her son?”
I’ll never say it out loud, but my wounds run deep.
I looked up to my mom. No matter what she did to us, no matter how many times she left us alone at night to go partying with her friends, I was always glad when she returned home safe.
I was the protector, even as a seven-year-old who looked after my baby sister.
It wasn’t right, but it’s all I knew. My mom’s abuse started early in her life, and I never knew about it until much later in mine.
While that kills me, it doesn’t excuse what she did.
We deserved better. We were innocent, too.
“Maybe she didn’t know any better,” Sapphire says, her smile small.
“Her best wasn’t anywhere near good enough, and I’m not saying you should forgive her, but this is an opportunity to go one way or the other.
It’s also up to Mika what she wants to do.
You can’t shield her from seeing your mom forever. ”
I rub my chin. This woman calms me—she always has. I ran to her because she’s the only one who will give me solid advice without sugarcoating it.
“I can’t trust her.”
“Then you need to decide whether you get to a place where you can, or you cut her off for good.”
I swallow, looking at the ground. “She hurt us.” Hurt me.
Sapphire reaches for me, cupping the side of my face. “I know that, and I’m sorry. I wish it could’ve been different for you, for all of us, but life throws curveballs, and it’s up to us to make sense of which direction we take when we’re older.”
“Am I just supposed to forget what she did?”
“Of course not, but if you decide to move forward, you also can’t keep throwing that in her face. Have it out with her, by all means, but once that’s dead and buried, you’re only torturing yourself if you keep reliving it.”
To be honest, I’ve never really looked at it like that.
“I’ve been avoidin’ her for a long time because of how much damage I know she can do. I’m a big boy; I’ll get over it, but Mika? She won’t recover if Mom decides to up and run again.”
“I can’t tell you what to do,” she says. “But Mika is an adult. You can’t protect her from what she really wants to do. And if she wants to have a relationship with her mom, you can’t stop her. That’s the chance we take when we forgive.”
I stare at her. “Is that what it was like for you and Reap, with your father?”
Her lips part, and a strange look washes over her face, as if she’s recalling some memory she’d rather not drag up. “I wouldn’t know. I never forgave him.”
“That I can understand. You know what? I’m glad that bastard is six feet under.”
Her voice is small when she says, “Me too.” Her eyes meet mine, and she stuns me into next week when she adds, “Because I’m the one who killed him.”