[Truyện Tiếng Anh] The Next Sin

Author: Georgia Cates

Bleu MacAllister
Southaven, Mississippi
My favorite violin and piano duet plays as I attempt to work. It’s bing more difficult to be productive without an office. Trying to do freelance investigation from my bedroom within our rental house? Challenging.
The song “Time Forgotten” plays. It’s a reminder that neither time nor Sinclair Breckenridge has been forgotten. Three months and more than four thousand miles separate us. It isn’t enough. I think of him all the time. And it’s a ****ing problem.
I push the thoughts of Sin from my head and scroll through the photos from my latest PI job—a clear case of a bitter wife looking to nail her cheating husband’s ass to the wall. My agingputer’s trackpad sticks and races through my collection of incriminating photographs.
“Dammit!”
Images of my client’s husband and his lover flutter before me, each picture flashing like a scene from a stop-motion movie I don’t wish to watch for a second time. I tap furiously against the trackpad in an effort to make it cease.
“Stop. Stop. Stop, you son of a bitch.”
My laptop finally obeys after a bit of physical abuse, but not beforeing to a standstill on the one and only image I have of Sinclair Breckenridge and me together.
Wow … talk about coincidence. I have thousands of pictures on thisputer. What are the odds it would land on this one?
It’s karma. Or bad juju. I don’t know. Maybe the universe wants to torture me.
The photo in front of me is a shot of us dancing during my initiation ceremony at Thane and Isobel’s country estate. We’re surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and Sin is cradling my face with his hands. I remember everything about that moment. He told...

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Chapter One

Bleu MacAllister

Southaven, Mississippi

My favorite violin and piano duet plays as I attempt to work. It’s becoming more difficult to be productive without an office. Trying to do freelance investigation from my bedroom within our rental house? Challenging.

The song “Time Forgotten” plays. It’s a reminder that neither time nor Sinclair Breckenridge has been forgotten. Three months and more than four thousand miles separate us. It isn’t enough. I think of him all the time. And it’s a ****ing problem.

I push the thoughts of Sin from my head and scroll through the photos from my latest PI job—a clear case of a bitter wife looking to nail her cheating husband’s ass to the wall. My aging computer’s trackpad sticks and races through my collection of incriminating photographs.

“Dammit!”

Images of my client’s husband and his lover flutter before me, each picture flashing like a scene from a stop-motion movie I don’t wish to watch for a second time. I tap furiously against the trackpad in an effort to make it cease.

“Stop. Stop. Stop, you son of a bitch.”

My laptop finally obeys after a bit of physical abuse, but not before coming to a standstill on the one and only image I have of Sinclair Breckenridge and me together.

Wow … talk about coincidence. I have thousands of pictures on this computer. What are the odds it would land on this one?

It’s karma. Or bad juju. I don’t know. Maybe the universe wants to torture me.

The photo in front of me is a shot of us dancing during my initiation ceremony at Thane and Isobel’s country estate. We’re surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and Sin is cradling my face with his hands. I remember everything about that moment. He told me I was special and then leaned in to kiss my forehead. He had not told me he loved me but I think he was wrestling with saying those three words. I recognized the look in his eyes because I’d been seeing it in my own reflection for some time.

I avoid this picture. Looking at it breaks my stupid heart all over again. I should drag it to the trash and delete it for good. I want to but I can’t bring myself to pull the trigger. That seems to be a common problem with me these days.

I was on the plane home when I discovered the picture on my phone. I wish I hadn’t seen it until I was back on the ground again. The image of us together sent me into a full-blown panic attack midflight. I was forced into the tiny lavatory to talk myself down. I was lucky. The episode wasn’t one of the bad ones but an enclosed area lacking proper ventilation couldn’t be worse when you feel like you’re smothering to death.

I took thousands of photographs while I was in Edinburgh. I must have at least five hundred of Sin—most of which are candid since he was usually unaware. Those are my favorites. I was always behind the camera—and never in front of it—so none of my pictures are of us together. That’s why I treasure this one. Many thanks to whoever used my phone to capture this moment.

I touch the screen. I stroke my finger down his face but it feels nothing like the real thing. I close my eyes so I can imagine the way his scruff felt against my skin.

He rarely grew what I would call a beard. He always kept his facial hair short and scruffy. And I loved it, especially when he would drag his face down the center of my body just to hear me squeal. But the best was when he’d push the crotch of my panties aside and rub his chin up and down between my legs.

“Holy ****, Bleu. That’s him, isn’t it?” I jerk when I hear Ellison’s voice over my shoulder. “That’s the man you were with in Scotland.”

I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I’ve allowed her to sneak up and catch me looking at this photograph. I was preoccupied. That’s my only excuse.

Ellison has interrogated me nonstop about my relationship with Sin. I’ve been vague. She’s on a need-to-know-only basis. That means I haven’t told her ****. But I want to. I need someone to tell me this excruciating pain in my heart is going to ease.

“Yes.” That’s my Breck. My admission feels like a ton of bricks lifted from my shoulders.

“Damn. That is one hottie Scottie.”

“I know.” I sigh as I prop my chin in my hand. I look at the handsome face of the only man in this world besides my father who has been willing to take me the way I am.

Two men. Both know the darkness I carry inside. But they love me anyway.

I’ve lost one. I’m losing the other. And it’s killing me.

“My God, Bleu. Look at the way he’s holding you … like you’re his everything. I don’t know how you walked away from him.”

You’d be surprised by the things you can do when you’re staring death in the face.

“My job was over.”

“You haven’t told me anything about it. Or him. Was it good?”

I recall the words he used to describe what being together was like for him. “The best ever.”

“You don’t think you’ll see him again?”

“No.” I won’t if I want to continue to live.

I feel Ellison’s supportive hand on my shoulder. “That’s too bad, sis.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Ellison plops down on my bed. “At least now I understand why you’ve been brooding for the last three months. I would mourn the loss of that hottie too. But it’s time to get out and move on. You can’t sit in this house and never socialize again.”

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Has she lost touch with reality? “Do I need to remind you that I’ve never socialized? This isn’t new for me.”

“But you didn’t know what you were missing before. You’ve had a taste of great ***. There’s no turning back.”

“I don’t want to have *** with anyone else.” No one will ever make me feel the way Sin did. I’m certain it would only be a disappointment so there’s no point trying.

“I get it. You don’t have to go out and find your next lay tonight but you do have to go out.”

Says who? “No, I don’t.”

“Please, Bleu. I’m going to Memphis with some work friends tonight. We’re going to Beale Street.”

Beale is Memphis’s version of Bourbon Street. I was assigned to patrol it when I was on the force. Nothing but trouble.

“We’re meeting at Coyote Ugly in a couple hours. You’ll have fun. I promise it’ll help take your mind off your Scottish hottie.”

I have some serious doubts about that but Ellison has dated a lot. She probably knows the remedy for this pain better than I do.

“Who’s going?” I don’t really handle people well, specifically silly females. I have no patience for them.

“Clancy and April.” She’s counting people off on her fingers as she says their names. “Bree, Ashley, and Callie for sure. Maybe more. I never really know until I get there.”

I don’t like to make small talk with people I’m not acquainted with. I wasn’t blessed with the gift of gab.

Besides, I have a date. I’m spending the evening with my camera. I have shots to get for a photo contest I plan to enter.

Ellison must see my hesitation. “I know you don’t love crowds but they’re all cool. Swear.”

My sister doesn’t understand how painfully awkward going out is for me. “I’d rather have toothpicks driven into my eyeballs.”

“That can be arranged if you say you won’t go.”

I guess I can drink whisky until I drown out the lady chitchat. “I’ll go for the Johnnie Walker.”

“Yes!” Ellison gives the air a fist pump. “Be ready to leave at seven.”

* * *

I’m not sure what I was thinking when I agreed to this. I’m southern but not country. There are too many cowboy hats and boots in this place for me.

I’m not a fan of drunken people dancing on the bar or letting strangers take shots from their bared abdomens. I swear I will beat Ellison’s ass if she tries either.

Ellison’s new work friends aren’t my kind of people. In their defense, I suppose not many are. At least they’re better than the ones she had at her old job in Memphis.

I hold up my empty glass when our server comes around and she returns with my third Johnnie Walker of the night. It’s going to take quite a few more of these to achieve an acceptable level of amnesia where Sinclair Breckenridge is concerned.

“You go, sista.” Ellison holds up her drink. “Here’s to getting wasted and forgetting about …” She shrugs and giggles. “See? I’ve already forgotten what I’m supposed to be forgetting.”

Her poison for the night is Long Island iced tea so she’s already drunk. I know this by her annoying horselaugh. Classic Ellison.

Is she referring to the doctor who asked for the threesome with another man? I should go kick his ass for hurting my sister. “Who are you drinking to forget?”

She shakes her head and purses her lips. “Not going there, Bleu. We’re here for one reason and one reason only—to have a ****ing fantastic time so I refuse to talk about that douche rocket.”

I’ve been so wrapped up in myself lately that I’ve failed to consider the problems my sister has been having. She had a humiliating incident with the ER doctor she was dating, which was really unfortunate since she was already choosing baby names for the four children she planned to have with him. She left her nursing job of more than two years because she was passed over for a promotion, which by all accounts should’ve been hers. She took care of Harry by herself the entire time I was gone. And although I’m back, she’s the nurse. I’m not sure I’ve been all that much help since returning.

She has a lot resting on her shoulders. I’ve been selfish, too focused on my own hurt to be mindful of Ellison’s troubles.

“You’re right. I want you to have a good time. But I want to talk about the things going on when you’re ready.”

Oh God. She has her “I’m gonna clobber you with a drunk hug” look. And she does, nearly sending me off my barstool onto the floor. “I love you, Bleu.”

Ellison’s an affectionate drunk. She loves everyone. I guess a friendly drunk is always better than a fighting one. I’ve seen my fair share of those while working undercover and it never ends well.

“O … kay, Elli. Maybe you should slow down with the Long Islands.”

“Come on, Bleu. This is only my third one.”

Her speech is slowed but not yet slurred. I’d prefer it didn’t come to that. I’m not in the mood to babysit a drunken Ellison.

“It’s your third in an hour and a half.”

“That’s a mighty fine high horse you sit upon. I wonder if you’d give me a ride some time.”

I’m straightening in my seat and helping my sister do the same when my eyes catch those of a man I haven’t seen in ages.

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“Bleu MacAllister.”

I push Ellison upright. “Cody Wilson.”

He grins and those dimples I remember from years ago make an appearance. “Wow. It’s been years.”

“At least seven or eight.”

God, I once adored Cody. We met when I was seven, after I came to live with my new family. He was my neighbor, eight houses down the street. We were best buddies until junior high. He was my only friend in the world—until he kissed me. I kicked him in the balls and that was the end of our friendship. I’ve always felt badly about doing that to him.

I didn’t dislike being kissed by Cody. In fact, I liked it very much after I had some time to think about it, but I was caught off guard in the moment. Harry had been training me for several months and I guess I had a snap reaction. It’s unfortunate his balls were the ones to pay.

What is he doing back in Memphis? “The last I heard from Dad, you were in the Air Force stationed somewhere on the other side of the world.”

“I was but I got out a few years ago and moved back. My mom’s health hasn’t been great for a while now.”

That’s right. Mrs. Wilson is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She didn’t have a clue who I was the last time I saw her.

“I’m a pilot for Delta now.”

Weird. Knowing he flies planes just made him a little more attractive. “Nice.”

“What about you?”

“I was a police officer for a couple of years and then a special agent. I left the Bureau to go freelance.” Not the whole truth.

“What does freelance involve?”

More naked asses than I’d like. “I get hired to obtain the proof of cheating husbands and wives. My clients are mostly people in the midst of nasty divorces.”

He lifts a brow. “Sounds interesting.”

Interesting is not how I’d describe it. “More like disturbing. I feel like I’m mostly shooting really bad porn with middle-aged people during their midlife crises.”

He laughs.

“Sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t put such unsavory images in your head.”

“You don’t sound fulfilled by catching cheaters in action. Have you considered going back to police work or the FBI?”

If only I could.

“I was following in Dad’s footsteps but it turns out it wasn’t for me.” Lie.

I was awesome at being an officer and an agent. I think it’s a job that could’ve made me happy for a long time but I ruined my career when I chose to pursue Thane. I’d be screwed if the FBI investigated me and discovered my connection to The Fellowship.

“I’ve considered opening a professional photography studio.” I’d prefer babies and brides over naked, cheating asses any day.

“You always had a camera around your neck. Or a violin in your hands. Do you still play?”

“Every day.” It’s the only thing that brings me comfort, as though it bridges the gap between Sin and me. I sometimes imagine he’s with me and we’re playing Canon in D Major together.

I know. Totally nuts.

“I play bass with a band. It’s just for fun but we have a gig here tonight. We go on in forty minutes. I’d love for you to stick around.”

“Oh, that’s right. You play guitar.” I can’t believe I forgot that. I always thought he looked hot strumming that thing.

“Our fiddler had to cancel on us at the last minute.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Very, and even more so considering we’re in Coyote Ugly. This crowd always expects to hear ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia.’”

“Yeah, that’s a super one.”

“And not possible without a fiddler.”

“Definitely not,” I agree.

A grin spreads across Cody’s face. “You still know it?”

“Hell, yeah.” It’s the only country song I know.

“What a coincidence.” He shrugs and points toward the door. “I happen to have Digby’s violin in my truck.”

“Oh God, no.” I’ve never performed publicly except for recitals as a kid, and those were involuntary.

“I don’t play for other people.” I use my violin as private therapy.

“You’d be surprised by how much fun it is.”

He’s crazy if he thinks I’d go on stage without practicing. “We’d need to rehearse.”

“We have forty minutes.”

“Really? You expect me to practice with you for less than an hour and then join your band on stage to perform in front of all these people?”

“Why not? You’re a fantastic fiddler. You have the song memorized forward and back.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Probably. Have a few more whiskies and you’ll forget your nerves.”

I’ve played my violin a lot since returning from Edinburgh so I’m in tiptop playing shape, probably the best ever.

I’m desperate to feel anything other than the misery of living without Breck. Although I’m certain this isn’t a good substitute, it’s a start.

I hold up my JW and toss it back. There’s no way I’d agree to this if I weren’t buzzing a little. The whisky has clouded my judgment. “Okay. But you’re buying.”

“Understood.”

I have three more Johnnie Walkers for good measure as I do a run-through with Cody and his band in the back room.

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“Damn, Wilson. This girl is good. We might need to use her to replace Digby on a permanent basis,” the drummer says.

“Ohhh, no. I’m not a performer. I’m only doing this because I owe Cody one.”

He looks puzzled for a moment before bursting into laughter. “You talking about busting my nuts?”

I’m laughing hard, and it feels good. Nice to laugh in place of crying for a change.

“Playing one song with us won’t begin to make up for that. Mmm,” he groans as he shifts his hips. “I’m still feeling that one.”

“I never apologized. I’m really sorry.”

I feel I owe an explanation for my reason but what do I say? Sorry, Cody. I was being trained to become a killer so I was a little overly responsive to being pounced upon.

“It’s okay. You got your message through loud and clear.” It’s been twelve years and I still hate that I did that to him.

The lead guitarist comes into the back room, interrupting our conversation. “Showtime.”

I skulk onto the stage with the four band members, violin in hand. Each guy takes an instrument while Mark, the lead singer and guitarist, goes to the mic. He introduces every member and lastly comes to me. “Digby couldn’t be with us tonight so Miss Bleu MacAllister has graciously volunteered to step into his shoes on a number we couldn’t possibly do without a fiddler.”

He plays a few chords to liven up the crowd. “‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia.’” I drag my bow over the strings since it seems like a cue. “This is the way it sounds when you put a Tennessee girl on a fiddle.”

We jump straight into the song, which is good. It means this will be over quicker.

The crescendo of the song approaches and Mark motions for me to take center stage. ****. I don’t want to be seen. It’s bad enough being heard. It becomes clear he isn’t going to give up so I concede and move forward until I’m front and center. Not my forte.

I shouldn’t have had those whiskies.

I’m thrilled when the song ends. Without a word, I quickly sneak away from the stage and back to my table.

Ellison gives me another drunk clobber hug. “Bleu! I haven’t heard you play like that in years.”

She turns to her friends. “My sister is a total badass, am I right?”

Five drunken voices agree and shout comments about my playing.

Cody is back at our table as soon as his band finishes. “You did a great job. Thanks for being a good sport.”

“You can thank Johnnie Walker. I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.”

“Why not? You’re amazing. It’s a shame to keep that kind of talent to yourself.”

Has Cody forgotten me entirely? “Have we met?”

Cody laughs. “I see not much has changed with the MacAllister sisters in twelve years. You still prefer to hang in the background.”

“I’m content with not being seen or heard.”

Ellison and her friends squeal loudly over some sort of nonsense. “There was only room for one attention whore in our family. She was there before me so I never had a chance.”

Ellison leans in between us. “Heeeey, Bleu. We’re tired of this place. We want to go hear the dueling pianos at Silky O’Sullivan’s.”

Oh God. I shouldn’t have agreed to come. I am not up for pub crawling. But I’m stuck.

I look at Cody and shrug. “You heard the boss.”

“I guess they’re in the mood for piano music,” Cody says.

Ellison’s not really a fan of the country scene either. I’m guessing her friends are the ones who chose this bar. “I think they’re more in the mood to troll for guys. The ones here aren’t Ellison’s type.”

“I see.”

I hug Cody. “It was really great seeing you again.”

“You too. Thanks again for bailing us out. It was really nice of you.”

“Then I can consider us even?”

“Yeah.” Cody laughs and his dimples reappear. “We’re even.”

I follow Ellison and her band of nitwits down Beale Street to Silky’s. We luck out and find a recently abandoned table. They order two divers, the bar’s specialty drink—a secret blend of libations served in a gallon bucket with no fewer than a dozen foot-long straws.

Oh lordy. As if any of these airheads need *****ck on anything containing a gallon of alcohol.

I realize an hour into our excursion that our DD has been partaking in the divers and is wasted. What the hell? That means we have no sober driver to get us home. “Ellison. Ashley is hammered.”

“Yeah?” She’s completely oblivious to what that means.

“She’s supposed to be our ride home.”

“It’s cool, Bleu. She’s a nurse. She isn’t going to drive drunk and risk losing her license. We’ll just get a couple of rooms.”

Get rooms, my ass. There’s no way I’m sleeping with any of their drunken asses and waking up with crusty puke in my hair.

“I did not sign on for a drunken slumber party.”

“Chill, Bleu.”

**** this. “You know what? I’m not feeling great. I think I’ll head home.”

“It’s that damn medicine you take. Your doctor shouldn’t have increased your dosage. She’s dumber than snake mittens.”

Oh goody. The drunken buffoonery begins. “Stay. Have a great time with your friends. I’ll see you in the morning. And please be safe.”

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I leave the bar and walk to the spot where taxis are lined and waiting for drunks in need of a lift.

“Hey, Bleu.” It’s Cody’s voice I hear in the distance.

He jogs up to me right before I get into the cab. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Bar hopping is not really my scene.”

“I know what you mean. I only came out because we were playing. I rarely come to Beale anymore. I sort of got my fill of all this in the Air Force.”

It’s impossible to enjoy this type of atmosphere after you’ve experienced whisky bars in Scotland. It puts this place to shame.

“Need a ride?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to take a taxi.”

“No way. Let me drive you.”

He must not know we no longer live in Memphis. “Thanks for the offer but I live in Southaven now.”

“That’s not too far.”

“It’s over twenty miles to my house.” I don’t want to put him out.

He shuts the door on the cab. “A taxi will cost a fortune. I’m taking you home.”

I can see this isn’t an argument where I’ll be the victor.

“Okay. As long as you don’t try to talk me into joining your band. ’Cause I’m never stepping foot on a stage again.” ****. That was brutal.

“I make no promises.”

Chapter Two

Sinclair Breckenridge

I’m in the background of Bleu’s life, as I have been for weeks. I have eyes on her at all times, even when they’re not my own. I safeguard her from harm. It’s all I’ve done since tracking my lass down in a small town in Mississippi, right outside of Memphis. I act as her protector from afar and she has no idea. She believes she’s hidden from The Fellowship—and me—but she couldn’t be more wrong. I’m always here, keeping a watchful eye on her and the MacAllister family.

I often need to be reminded that this is Bleu’s world. Every person she has contact with isn’t a threat but there’s an enormous problem with that. I have no idea who’s friend or foe.

I was concerned when Bleu disappeared at the bar with a man earlier tonight. I was on the verge of barging into the back until my lass came out on stage to perform with the band. I don’t think I’ve ever been so surprised in all my life. I knew she played but I never pegged her for a public performer. That doesn’t seem like my Bonny at all.

But I guess I don’t really know the real Bleu MacAllister. I only know the woman she pretended to be.

Her father is dying. I’ve hidden in the shadows so she could have these last days with him but we’re running out of time. Abram’s men are hunting her. According to the tabs I’ve been keeping, they’re getting closer. That means it’s time for Bonny to know I’ve come for her.

Bleu and Ellison’s residence is transient. There’s not a single item they couldn’t bear to part with. These two are prepared to flee and leave everything behind at the drop of a hat.

I’m waiting in Bleu’s dark living room when she comes home. She’s with him—the man from the bar. I wasn’t expecting that. In the weeks I’ve watched her, she’s never brought a man home. I’m not at all pleased about this. My immediate reaction is to get up and beat the piss out of him. I fight the urge and remain on the sofa since I don’t know who he is to her. It wouldn’t go over well for me to assault a member of her family.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. I didn’t mind at all.”

Aye, I bet he didn’t mind.

“Well.” She hesitates as though she doesn’t know what to say next. It’s that awkward silence thing. Good. “It was nice catching up with you.”

“It’s been too long. How about we don’t wait seven years to see each other again?” Ahh. He’s an old acquaintance.

“Sounds good.” No. That doesn’t sound good at all.

He reaches up and pushes a strand of stray hair behind her ear. If I know my lass, she’s fighting the urge to untuck it since she despises her hair like that. “I’ve always hated the way things ended between us.”

What does that mean? Is it possible Bleu had some type of romantic relationship with this man?

“Me too,” she agrees.

Please, don’t invite him inside, Bonny. I’m not sure how I’ll react to that.

He moves closer and I can see it coming from a mile away. He’s going to kiss her. And I don’t think I can sit here and watch it happen.

He touches the side of her face with his palm and I twitch to go to her, to get between them. “I’d really like to kiss you but I’m afraid you’ll kick me in the nuts again.”

If she doesn’t, it’s likely I will.

“Cody,” she sighs. “You’re a great guy but the timing is all wrong. I’ve just gotten out of a really intense … situation. I’m nowhere near ready for a new relationship.”

“I get it, Bleu. But you should be aware that I’m a very patient man. I can wait.” He leans in and kisses the side of her face. “Goodnight, Memphis Bleu.”

This man has a pet name for my Bonny. I’m not okay with that.

She shuts the front door and turns the deadbolt. Her high heels clang across the tile floor until she reaches the carpet of her bedroom. Everything goes quiet. Walls separate us but I imagine she’s kicking out of her heels. It was always the first thing she’d do when we’d come home from a night out. I doubt that’s changed. I’d bet money she’s sitting on the edge of her bed right now rubbing her feet. She hates wearing heels because they’re uncomfortable.

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“Hey, Dora.” That’s one of Harold MacAllister’s hospice nurses. “How’s Dad tonight?”

Bleu is calling to check in on her father—part of her nightly routine before going to bed.

“Good. I’m coming in the morning. You can tell the dayshift I’ll be there in time for breakfast. He eats better for me than Myra, but mostly because I force him.” She laughs. “Have a good night and call if anything happens.”

A moment later, I hear water running. She’s going to have a soak in the tub. It’s something she does almost every night.

I recognize the smell of her signature fragrance floating in the air—peaches and cherry blossom. I inhale deeply. Damn. I’ve missed that scent.

I sit on her bed and it feels like the longest wait of my life. I don’t know how she’ll react to discovering me inside her home. I’m certain she’ll initially be startled. Fear will likely follow. I expect a physical struggle. She’s an agent so she’s going to make a move for the gun she hides at the head of her bed. But she won’t find it there.

The door opens and she comes out of her bathroom wearing a short, satiny robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She jolts from surprise and then goes completely motionless.

“Hello, my sweet Bonny.”

She takes a few steps back and darts around the bed when I stand. I’m certain she’s going for her gun. “There’s no need for that because it’s not there.”

She makes a move for the door and I catch her around the waist from behind. I hold her tightly to prevent escape. She throws her head backward and slams it into my nose. I immediately feel warmth ooze down my upper lip.

I walk backward to the bed and fall with her on top of me, her back pressed against my front. She’s struggling with every bit of strength she has. It’s like wrestling a wild animal. “Stop fighting me, Bonny. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Liar! I don’t believe you.” She tries to kick my knee where it joins my prosthesis.

When you physically struggle with someone, it isn’t long until one or both of your bodies give out to exhaustion. I’m fit but she’s more con***ioned so I have no doubt she’ll outlast me. I must use words, not strength, to convince her.

I use the last bit of power I have left to flip us over on the bed. Bleu is on her stomach. She’s pressed into the mattress with me lying on top of her back. I move my hands to her wrists and bind them over her head. I wrap my legs around hers, locking them so she can’t move. “I would never harm you, Bleu. I swear.”

She stops struggling and I become aware of how hard we’re both panting. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I love you, Bonny.” In our scuffle, she has lost the towel from her hair. I release one of her wrists and use my free hand to push away the wet strands stuck to her cheek and neck. I press my face to the side of her head so my still-panting mouth hovers over her ear. “I claimed you, Bleu. I don’t take that lightly. You’re mine to protect so I’ll always do what I must to keep you safe.”

Her body relaxes beneath mine. I adjust my position so my weight is no longer pressing her into the mattress. She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “You’re here to protect me? From what?”

I don’t wish to have this conversation while restraining her. “Are you finished fighting me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” I move off her. We’re exhausted from our physical battle so we lie side by side on the bed catching our breath.

She drops her damp hair towel on my face. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Thanks.”

I wipe the blood away and hold pressure until the ooze stops.

“Abram’s men are coming for you. They’re getting closer. I expect them to track you here by early next week.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on their whereabouts because I’m responsible for your safety.” I still can’t believe what a poor job she’s done of concealing herself. “To tell you the truth, this whole hiding in plain sight thing isn’t the genius plan you thought. I expected a chameleon of your caliber to do a much better job of camouflaging herself.”

“Normally I would but my dad’s sick. I couldn’t go far.”

Staying puts her at risk. “I found you weeks ago.”

She bolts up. “You’ve been watching me for weeks?”

I rise so I’m sitting next to her. She’s angry. I see it in her eyes. “Aye. Three. But don’t be cross with me. It was the only way to ensure your safety without robbing you of this time with your father.”

Her face relaxes. “Then you know my dad is in hospice care?”

“Aye.”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and shakes her head. “I can’t leave him.”

I understand her wanting to be with her father but she’s left herself wide open for attack. “Staying here is too risky.”

“I can protect myself.”

“We both know I could’ve killed you just now if that had been my intention. You’d be dead if I were one of Abram’s men.”

She looks away, staring blankly at the wall. It’s because she knows I’m right, although she won’t dare admit it. My lass hates defeat.

“I won’t leave like some coward.” Why did I have to fall in love with such a hard-ass?

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“Your father is dying. He won’t be much leverage for Abram to use against you but what about your sister? Can you protect her and yourself around the clock?”

I know I’ve caught her attention—she looks shocked. “Ellison is innocent. She’s done nothing to The Fellowship. She doesn’t even know of its existence.”

“Abram doesn’t care. He’ll use her to draw you out if that’s what it takes.”

Her eyes grow large. “Oh God. How do I undo this?”

I’ve spent the last three months battling the same question and see only one fix.

“I know what you have to do.” Her baby blues gaze at me in anticipation. But I’m afraid my solution won’t be anything she’s expecting to hear. “Marry me.”

She goes completely silent. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Marrying you would pull me into The Fellowship even deeper. Why would I do something like that?”

I never taught Bleu the ways of The Fellowship. I spent my time ****ing her instead of teaching her our practices so now I must give her the quick version. “Every member takes a vow to never violate the family of another member. That means Abram can’t harm you if you become my wife.”

She’s shaking her head. “Common sense tells me betrayal overrides that vow. I lied to all of you about being a former agent. I came to Edinburgh to kill your father, the brotherhood’s leader. That alone is grounds for my execution. It won’t matter if I’m your conjoined twin. The brotherhood will never accept me for anything other than what I am—a traitor.”

“The brotherhood knows nothing of your betrayal. My father, Abram, and I all agreed it could spiral into panic and chaos if they thought they’d been compromised.” I know it must be killing Abram to keep this secret. He’d love nothing more than to make me look incompetent. “That’s the only reason Abram didn’t rat me out for initiating an FBI agent into The Fellowship.”

She hangs her head. “I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”

“Hey, you.” I place my fingers below her chin and force her to look at me. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. I would do it again if given the choice.”

“Marriage might save me from being killed by Abram but your father knows about my betrayal. That can’t be fixed.”

But it already has been. “I told him you were Amanda Lawrence’s daughter but lied about it because you were investigating her murder. I explained that you thought he might be more forthcoming about information if he didn’t know he was a suspect.” It’s mostly true, minus the part where she planned his murder. “He has no idea you came to kill him. I swear.”

“You may have fixed things with your father but Abram is still coming after me.”

I take her hands in mine. “He won’t if you marry me.”

“Abram will never accept your marriage to me.”

“Good thing his approval is not a requirement.”

She can argue all she likes but I’ve thought this through for months and looked at it from every angle. Marriage is the only thing that makes sense.

“What do the brothers think happened to me?”

“I told them you were called away for a family emergency and you’re home caring for your terminally ill father. As far as they’re concerned, you’re still one of us and nothing has changed. You could return today and they’d welcome you back with open arms. Especially my mum. She misses you terribly.”

“I miss her as well.”

There’s still the matter of her wanting to kill my father. “I spoke with my dad about your mother’s murder. He stands firm that he isn’t her killer.”

She shakes her head. “No. I was there. I recognized Thane’s voice.”

“You were a frightened child who heard a Scotsman’s voice. You never saw his face. Even you must admit there’s room for error.”

I know my Bonny Bleu. She’ll never marry into the brotherhood if she believes its leader murdered her mother. I have to convince her my dad is innocent of this crime. “My father is The Fellowship’s leader. He answers to no one. That makes him untouchable. He’d take ownership of your mother’s murder if he were her killer. It’s our way. You know this about us.” She looks as though she’s considering my theory. “He was very much in love with your mother. He wouldn’t have harmed her.”

She looks as though she’s struggling internally. “Accepting his innocence means I’ve been mistaken for eighteen years. My whole life has been spent obsessing over killing the wrong man. You can’t possibly imagine the way that makes me feel—as a trained agent and as a person in general.”

“You were a young, traumatized child. It stands to reason you’d be easily confused.”

She looks as though she might burst into tears. “This means her killer is still out there. And I have no idea who or where he is.”

Bleu needs to know she won’t be alone in this. “We will find your mother’s murderer. When we do, I’ll help you kill him if you like. But first on our agenda must be making you safe.”

She nibbles her bottom lip for a moment before looking down at her hands in her lap. “Bonny. Look at me.” Her eyes meet mine. “Marry. Me.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to enter into a marriage for the wrong reason.”

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“Then enter into it for the right one.” She told me she loved me on the last night we were together but she thought we’d never see one another again. I have no idea if her feelings still stand. “You told me you loved me.”

“I do. I love you very much.” My body instantly relaxes when I hear her declaration. The heavy weight of not knowing has lifted. “But marriage is drastic.”

“Any man can see the good inside you. But what you need is one who sees the bad and loves you anyway. That’s me.”

“Becoming your wife means I marry The Fellowship as well. I’m not sure I can handle that.”

“Tell me what part of it worries you.”

“For one, you’ll take your father’s place as leader one day. When you do, you won’t be mine anymore.”

She’s wrong. “Bonny. I’ll always be yours. Nothing will change that.”

“You can say you’ll be mine but it isn’t true. Not really. I’ll always have to share you with The Fellowship. In a sense, they own you.”

The part she possesses is so much bigger. “I belong to you, Bleu. And you belong to me. That is never going to change.”

“All of this is a lot to take in without any kind of warning. I need time to sort out my thoughts.”

This is the worst marriage proposal in history. Marry me or die. No woman spends her life dreaming of those words. “My proposal is unexpected and unromantic. I can’t imagine a worse combination. I don’t even have a ring for you.” I cradle her face with my hand. “For that, I’m truly sorry but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I swear.”

She doesn’t reply.

“Say yes, Bleu. Take your place as my wife and mother of my children.”

“I can’t believe you just said something so cruel.” She jerks away. “You know I want to be a mother but there’s a very high probability that’ll never happen.”

I don’t believe that. I see our future when I look into her eyes and it has everything we dream of. “If you want babies, you will have them one way or another. I’ll see to it.”

“The Fellowship will expect you to produce a legitimate heir. What are they going to say when I can’t give you a son?”

“I don’t care what they say but we already know we don’t have the luxury of waiting. We’ll see the best fertility specialist right away. We’ll make our decision together based on what is best for us. Not The Fellowship.”

“I want to be crystal clear about one thing since we’re talking children. If I say yes and if by some miracle, I’m able to become pregnant and if it’s a boy, I won’t let you take him from me.”

“I know. I’d never expect you to go along with that.” I’m a little hurt she thinks I’d take our child from her. “I don’t think you fully grasp how much I love you, Bleu. I’m willing to change the rules for you.”

She reaches for my hand. “Believe me when I say it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Although I’m willing to move heaven and earth for her, some things I can’t get around. “As much as I love you, I need you to understand something. Any son of ours will be raised in the way of The Fellowship. That part is nonnegotiable.”

“And that’s only one of a million different things I have to consider.”

I’ve dropped a bomb on her. “Take some time to think everything over—but don’t tarry for long. Abram’s men are closing in. It would be a much better scenario for Abram to call them off because we’re married rather than be discovered and have a showdown.”

Bleu has no choice, even if she’s yet to recognize that reality. That’s why it’s all the more important that I give her time to adjust and accept her fate without feeling as though I’m forcing her hand. My lass is stubborn and headstrong. I’ll fare much better as her husband if she believes she’s the one making this decision.

“I’m going to leave you to your thinking.”

Bleu puts her hand to my chest, stopping me from getting up. She swings her leg over my body, straddling me. Her hands slide up my arms and over my shoulders as her lips meet mine. “Don’t go, Breck. There’s been too much space between us as it is.”

I don’t want to go but I must. “This is the most important decision of your life. You don’t need me in your bed clouding your judgment.”

“You aren’t going to cloud my judgment.” She leans forward and kisses my mouth again while her hands tug at the buckle of my belt.

I place my hand on top of hers to still it. “I don’t want you to look back on this years from now and wonder if you said yes because I seduced it out of you or you got caught up in the moment. You have serious things to consider.”

She must never question her choice. I won’t have her one day hate or blame me because she feels I swayed her decision.

I hold her face with my palms. “I won’t be far.”

She holds me firmly. That’s when I know she doesn’t plan to let me go. “If you’re not next to me, then you’re too far.”

I roll so she’s lying beneath me, my body pressing her into the bed. She beams, believing she’s getting what she wants, until I peel her arms from my shoulders and her legs from my waist. “I’m giving you three days to decide.”

“I love you, my sweet Bonny Bleu.” I kiss her quickly. “I’ll be back in seventy-two hours for your answer.”

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Chapter Three

Bleu MacAllister

That ****ing Scottish bastard! He waltzes into my life after we’re apart for three months and asks me to be his wife. Sort of. I’m not sure saying “marry me” constitutes asking. It sounds more like a demand. A man is supposed to go to his knee and declare his undying love with pretty words before asking his beloved to marry him.

That’s not at all what I got from Sin. No knee. No declaration of undying love. No pretty words followed by a question mark.

The jerk tells me to marry him and then swaggers out the door without making love to me. He claims he doesn’t want to alter my decision with *** but I’m not a fool. He wants me desperate for him. And I am. But I’m also furious. I would consider killing him if I didn’t already know how painful it is to live without him.

Sin presented his marriage proposal as though he was asking and the choice was mine. We both know that isn’t the case. He was being kind—and smart—since he can guess how well an ultimatum will go over with me.

I’m well aware of what my life looks like if I don’t marry Sin. That doesn’t mean I’ll accept without considering all the potential scenarios associated with becoming the wife of a Fellowship leader.

Divorce won’t be an option if things don’t go well. Neither Sin nor the brotherhood will ever release me. I’ll be married to Sinclair Breckenridge and The Fellowship until my dying breath. It’s literally a commitment until death do we part.

I’ll keep company with liars, thieves, and killers on a daily basis. In a sense, I’d become their leader as well since I firmly believe behind every great man is a great woman. Can I associate with these types of people every day?

If we’re able to conceive, do I really want to bring children into that kind of life? How would I possibly teach my kids right from wrong in The Fellowship world when they’ll be constantly surrounded by criminals?

If I decide I can’t become a permanent part of The Fellowship, I have the skills that will enable me to run so far, I’ll never be found. But even that scenario can’t happen before my dad passes. If I’m lucky enough to avoid Abram’s men until Harry’s gone, there’s still the matter of Ellison to consider. This isn’t my sister’s fight. She shouldn’t have to spend her life in hiding because of something I did.

I hear a crash in the living room and instantly transition into an agent on the defense. I streak to my nightstand and retrieve my gun from where Sin placed it before he left.

I move toward the door and do a visual check. I proceed down the hallway once I’m certain it’s clear. I’m doing a sweep of the living room when I hear a creaking noise in the wood floor behind me. I spin, arms locked, ready to fire on Abram’s men.

“****, Bleu! What the **** are you doing?” Ellison yells.

“Dammit, Ellison.” I lower my gun. “You’re supposed to be drunk and passed out in a hotel with your friends.” I look at the man she has her arms wrapped around. “Not traipsing in with some random guy in the middle of the night.”

I’m suddenly aware that I’m wearing my robe in front of a complete stranger. I wrap it a little tighter and cross my arms over my chest since I’m braless. “You know you shouldn’t surprise me like that.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. This is my sister, Bleu. You’ll have to excuse her. She used to work for the FBI so she’s sort of a freakazoid with a permit to carry a gun.”

“Nice, Elli. I totally appreciate your summary of me.”

She points at her male companion. “This is Tyler Blackwell. We work together.”

He’s good-looking and well dressed—just Ellison’s type. I’d bet my bottom dollar this guy is a doctor. He looks the part. I hope this one is into her instead of another dude, or whatever that guy had planned.

We do the “nice to meet you” thing and I promptly return to my bedroom. I climb into bed and pull the covers high but I can’t possibly fall asleep after tonight’s revelation.

I toss and turn for more than two hours. On a whim, I call the number belonging to Sin months ago. “Aye, Bonny.”

****. I can’t believe he still has the same number or that he answered my call. “I can’t sleep.”

“I’m not surprised. I’m sure you have a lot of things on your mind.” I hear him chuckle and I’m reminded how he enjoys laughing at me. It pisses me off.

“True, but I have one very specific thing on my mind.”

“Bonny.” He says my name as though I’m a child who’s misbehaved. “You need to be concentrating on our future and the decision you must make in the next few days, not what you’d like to be doing in the present.”

It’s been months since we’ve been together. I don’t understand how he can be so strong. Is it because he knows I’ll be weak enough for the both of us?

“Where are you?”

“In the car.”

“Where exactly?”

“Outside your house.” I should’ve known. He said he wouldn’t be far.

I go to the window. I pull back the drape and see the dark sedan. “It’s an unusually cold night. You can’t sleep in a car outside my house.”

“I won’t be sleeping.”

This is stupid. He should be in here with me. “Please, come inside.”

“No.”

He’s absolutely infuriating. “Are you going to force me to take drastic measures?”