Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series

by S. J. Tilly

“My grandma got me some bath bombs for Christmas last year. I like the glittery ones, but they drive my dad crazy.”

  I grin at that mental image of a scowling, sparkly Vincent. “I bet.”

  Annie holds up a dark purple one. “This one smells nice.”

  “Then that’s the one you’ll use.” I put the basket away and pull out a fluffy towel. I spoil myself with my clothes and with my toiletries. “I know you don’t need a shower, but they always make me feel better. Just drop that onto the shower floor and the whole room will smell wonderful. Plus, we have some time to waste before your dad gets back with his purchases.”

  Annie wraps her arms around herself and she suddenly looks younger. This shy, unsure girl is so different from the one that confronted me at the press conference yesterday.

  I sit down on the toilet lid, so we’re nearly the same height. “I get that we don’t really know each other, but I want you to know that you can trust me. It might feel uncomfortable, but you can ask me anything. I’m sorry that you’re having to deal with this today. And I’m sorry that the timing sucks so much. I’m sure you’d rather be with your grandma, but I promise that I’ll be here for whatever you need.”

  “Why are you helping me?” Her voice is quiet.

  “Because my mom would want me to.” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I’m saying.

  Something in my tone has Annie’s eyes snapping up to mine. “Is your mom dead, too?”

  Too. Oh my god…

  My breath catches and my throat goes tight. Is that why Vincent won’t talk about Annie’s mother? Because she’s dead.

  Pushing away my questions, I nod. “She passed away a long time ago. But she was the one who helped me when I first got my period. It made a big difference for me, having someone there. And I know she’d want me to help you. too.”

  Annie bites her lip, and I can tell she’s not sure what to say.

  I force a smile. “When you come out, I’ll tell you the story about when I first got mine. It involves a bike and a pair of white jeans.” She cringes and I nod. “Yeah, not pretty.”

  Standing, I gesture to the shower. “Feel free to use any of the stuff I have in there. I think there are like three types of body wash. I’m sure the shower at your place is more complicated than mine, but let me know if you have any questions.” I reach into another closet and pull out a bright pink robe that’s covered in red hearts. “Put this on when you’re done and then we can dig through my pajamas and find you something comfortable to wear.”

  Setting the robe on the counter, I give it a pat.

  “Thank you.” Annie says, her voice sounding a little stronger.

  “You’re welcome.” We look at each other for a moment, and I feel so weird asking this, but I also feel like I need to. “Do you, um, have any questions about what your body is doing?”

  This earns me an eye roll. “I took health class. I know what puberty is.”

  Seeing a bit of her attitude come back is a weight off my chest. “Okay, good. How does your stomach feel? Do you have any cramps?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I think that’s what I was having early this morning. That’s why I had my grandma bring me home. I thought it was something I ate.”

  The way she says that makes me think that she knew I was there, but I don’t bring it up. “I’m glad to hear it’s stopped. If it starts up again, I know a few tricks that can help. A nice hot shower or bath is a good place to start.”

  Pulling the bathroom door shut behind me, I slump against the wall. This is so not how I thought tonight would go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  SASHA

  T he bathroom door clicks open. “Sasha?”

  “In here.” I call out from my bedroom. “End of the hall.”

  Annie steps into my room, looking tiny and adorable bundled up in my bulky heart robe. Her hair has been towel-dried and twisted into a loose braid. She might be the daughter of a single father, but she has more hair skills then I did at that age. Hell, she probably has more skill than I’ll ever have.

  “How was it?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “It was good.”

  We both turn at the sound of the front door opening and closing.

  I raise an eyebrow when I glance at the clock. “I think your dad must have sprinted around the store to be done this quick.” Annie giggles. “Wait here, I'll grab the stuff.”

  I hurry down the hall to see Vincent toeing off his shoes and lining them up next to Annie’s at my front door. The sight of him here, in my apartment, looking like he belongs, is enough to put a stutter in my step. And watching him stride towards me in sock clad feet is too much for me to handle right now. His worried expression is just one more scratch on my exposed nerves. I mentally wrap my heart in ice packs. I can’t let my well-earned barriers melt this quickly.

  We meet in the mouth of the hallway.

  “How is she?” Vincent’s voice is raw

  His concern is another strike against my wall. I swallow against the pain. I can’t reconcile this man with the one who treated me so poorly only hours ago. It’s all just too overwhelming. My heart is sore from thinking about my mom. My heart is breaking for that poor little girl who’s also lost a mother. My heart hurts for a man who doesn’t know what he wants from me.

  The emotional turmoil must show on my face because Vincent steps closer. “What happened? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine, Vincent. I promise. I just…” I just what? I drop my gaze from his and reach for the bags. “Thank you for getting this. We’ll be out in a bit.”

  “Don’t thank me for buying stuff for my own daughter.” Vincent replies quietly.

  “You know what I mean.” I grab the bags from his hands.

  Before I can step away, Vincent wraps his arms around me. It’s sudden and unexpected. He doesn’t ask permission. He doesn’t warn me. He just pulls my body tight against his.

  His heat causes a shudder to roll through my body. I don’t want to like this. I don’t want to feel comforted by this man, but his scent alone is causing my head to spin. His arms tighten. Mine are trapped at my side so I can’t hug him back. And I don’t try.

  Vincent's lips are against my hair and I can feel his chest rumble as he speaks. “I don’t know how to let people in. I’m only good at breaking things. I… I’ll make this right. I’ll make it right.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head before loosening his grip and stepping away.

  Unable to deal with my feelings for Vincent on top of everything else, I keep my eyes down as I turn and hustle back to my room.

  Dumping the bags out on my bed I see that Vincent got way more than I told him.

  “That seems like a lot.” Annie says with a skeptical look.

  “Uh, yeah. Your dad doesn’t really follow directions, does he?”

  Annie gives me a perfect Duh expression. “Ya think?”

  The laugh that bursts out of me is so unexpected I startle Annie as much as I startle myself. But I can’t stop. I have to bend over, bracing myself on the bed, I’m laughing so hard. “I’m sorry. I’m…” I can’t even talk. Either I’m that much of a spectacle, or Annie finds her dad’s lack of restraint equally funny, because her tinkling laugh joins mine. We laugh together long enough that my sides start to ache. The sound is a balm to my soul as tension leaves my body.

  “Okay.” I wipe the tears from my face. “Oh my gosh, I needed that. Alright, let’s see what the crazy man got.”

  Together we straighten out all the packages. I had sent him photos of the different pads to get. One regular. One heavy. One overnight. One panty liner. All of the same popular brand. I didn’t think she’d need the heavy for her first period, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. One package of each would’ve been plenty. One of each would probably last her a couple months. Vincent bought two boxes of each. And then twice over in two other brands. Resulting in a totally absurd number of pads.

  When Annie pulls out four multi-p
acks of underwear, we both lose it again.

  Fifteen minutes later, Annie emerges from the bathroom.

  “It feels weird.” Annie says while making a face.

  “Yeah, they aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world. But they’re way better than they used to be. And you have more than enough to choose from so you can play around and find which ones you like best. When you feel ready to try tampons let me know and we can send your dad out to buy a truckload.”

  Annie shakes her head. “I can’t believe him.”

  This is the most relaxed she’s looked since she got here. She’s wearing a pair of my sleep pants that I accidently ordered several sizes too small and never got around to returning. They’re still too big for her, but they’ll work. And because I thought it’d be funny; I gave her my other FBI sweatshirt. It’s also too big, but it’s soft and perfect for lounging.

  “So, would you like to help me make some hot chocolate? We could watch a movie if you don’t need to go home right away.”

  “Yeah, that’d be okay. I mean, if my dad doesn’t mind.”

  We walk side by side into the living room to find Vincent sitting on the couch, with my attention whore cat sprawled across his lap.

  Hearing us approach, Vincent turns his head. Annie goes right to him, and immediately starts petting Captain. Vincent watches her closely, as if he’s checking for injuries. His eyebrows are pulled together, and his lips are pulled into a tight line. I’m not sure what he’s expecting to see, but she really is fine.

  I see the moment he reads the front of her sweatshirt. His gaze halts, then the corner of his mouth tips up. Slowly he slides his eyes to me, making a point to look at my chest, which is also printed with the large yellow letters.

  “Cute.” He mouths the word.

  I have to remind myself that I’m still mad at him, so I only shrug.

  “Dad.” Annie’s voice breaks our stare off. “Can we stay for a bit? Sasha said we could make cocoa and watch a movie.”

  Vincent’s eyes widen and he looks back and forth between me and his daughter. “Sure. If Sasha’s okay with it, I don’t see why not.”

  Turns out Annie is a hot chocolate making expert. Annie is a constant reminder of the hidden side of Vincent. The side I didn’t know about. The side that has hot chocolate mix in his cupboard. The side who taught Annie how to make s’mores over a gas lit stove. It’s a side of him, but it’s a part of the man as a whole. A man who buys his daughter pink shoes. A man who looks worried-sick because his little girl is becoming a woman.

  I show Annie where everything is, but she masters the slow simmer of the milk, and whisking in the perfect amount of cocoa on her own. We both agree the perfect amount of chocolate is a spoonful more than what the directions say, ignoring Vincent’s gripes about not making it too sweet. He watches both of us carefully from his spot at the island. He’s a control freak for sure, but he’s able to sit back and recognize that Annie has the task handled.

  “Do you have any marshmallows?” Annie asks hopefully.

  The grin on her face when I pull out my bag of giant pink marshmallows hits me square in the chest. Somehow over the past hour I’ve started to fall a little bit in love with this girl.

  It’s still hard for me to understand how such a sweet creature was raised by such a difficult man. But the more time I spend with Annie, the more I understand why Vincent is so protective of her. I’m not ready to forgive his shitty behavior, but his actions are starting to make sense. He’s solely responsible for her wellbeing, her happiness, her future. I don’t know the story behind Annie’s mother’s death, but I’m sure that had an effect on Vincent as well.

  His words from the hallway swim back into my mind. I’m only good at breaking things.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  VINCENT

  T he movie credits start to run as I watch my two girls sleep on the couch.

  My girls.

  I’m not sure if my brain is ready to catch up to the feelings in my chest. As much as I want to deny it, as much as I want to pretend my life is perfect just how it is, a part of me accepts that Sasha feels right. She feels right with me. With us. I wanted to situate myself between them, but I’m not sure Sasha would’ve let me... and I didn’t want to create a scene. Annie between us is the perfect metaphor for how I feel.

  As the movie progressed, they both slowly slid down into their current resting places. Annie with her head in my lap. Sasha curled against the far side of a couch. A throw blanket shared between them. The sight is nearly too much for me to take in. I don’t know if I should etch it to my memory or scratch it from all recollection.

  I’ve had my share of hard days throughout my life. You can do your best to prepare for them, but you never know when they’ll hit or what they’ll consist of. And today, starting before I even woke up this morning, has been one of my worst days in recent memory.

  This morning started the chain reaction that led me to this moment. This moment where I’m forced to question everything.

  I don’t know why I have these self-sabotaging behaviors, but that’s exactly what I did this morning. That nightmare is not one I have often. I’m not used to it. I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it. So I was already off kilter when I realized that Sasha was still in my bed. That combination alone would’ve been enough to make me crazy, but the sound of Annie coming home sent me into asshole mode. I panicked. I lashed out, snapping at Sasha, implying that she was just some fuck. Letting her think that she wasn’t anything special. It settled a boulder of guilt on my shoulders that still hasn’t lifted.

  I tried to apologize when I got back from the store, but it wasn’t enough. I have so much to explain, but I don’t know if I’m ready. And honestly, I don’t know how. I’ve had these self-imposed rules for so long, thinking I was protecting Annie, but now I’m second-guessing them. I figured I was doing Annie a favor by letting her think she’s the only girl I care about. But was that wrong? I thought I was protecting her. I thought I was being smart. But all I did was put myself between a rock and a lonely hard place.

  This morning, Annie hadn’t been feeling well and that’s why they came home early. I figured it was too much sugar. Or allergies. Or normal shit. I was in no way prepared to handle Annie getting her period. I thought I had another year, at least. She’s my little princess and I’m not ready for her to grow up. With every milestone, I feel her slipping from my grip a little bit more.

  Not knowing how to help my daughter made me feel like a failure. Like I was losing my hold on my carefully crafted life. When my girl came to me crying, worried and embarrassed, I felt helpless. I didn’t know what to do. With my mom out of town and no one else to turn to, it hit me like a fucking brick wall. Annie’s grandma is literally her only female role model. One. She had one woman to look up to. To talk to. To confide in. And my heart cracked.

  Annie needs more than just me in her life. She deserves more than that. She deserves a whole army of people to care for her. And when I closed my eyes, my mind only went to one person. Sasha. My fiery sweetheart. Sasha, who wears her feelings on her sleeve. Sasha, who is as kind as she is brilliant. Sasha, who I kicked out of my bed this morning while telling her to hide.

  I didn’t deserve her compassion. Sasha owed me nothing, but still she didn’t hesitate to help. Not once she saw Annie. Sasha’s clearly, and rightfully, still pissed at me, but she didn’t take that out on my daughter. She could have. But she didn’t. And it makes me hate myself even more for how I treated her.

  Sasha didn’t ask for any of this. I approached her in that bar. I chased her down in that elevator. I changed the plan at work, forcing her to report directly to me. I brought her into my home, breaking my own rule. I dragged my daughter over here. It’s all on me. Every part of this mess is my fault. Earlier, when I forced my hug onto her, I promised that I’d fix this. And I will. I’m just not sure how.

  A soft hum comes from Sasha before she slowly sits up, blinking her eyes. The l
ights are mostly off, but the glow from the TV highlights her beautiful sleepy face. She clamps a hand over her mouth as she yawns, and I watch as her gaze slowly travels over Annie’s sleeping form, before raising up to my face.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off.” She whispers.

  I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. I think Annie was out before you were.”

  I can see the thoughts tumbling around in her brain. I stay silent, wanting her to say what she’s thinking. But what she says is not at all what I was expecting.

  “You two can stay here if you’d like. The guest room is nothing special, but it’s clean.” My face must show my shock and she tenses. “I just meant if you didn’t want to drive home. It’s late. I’m not trying to…”

  I cut her off. “That would be really nice. Annie seems comfortable with you. But if it’s imposing too much…”

  She cuts me off. “I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t mean it. Don’t be dense.”

  The corner of my mouth tips up at Sasha’s attitude.

  I give Annie’s shoulder a shake. “Princess.” She mumbles something incoherent, but her eyes open so I know she can hear me. “You okay with staying here tonight?”

  Rubbing her eyes, Annie sits up and nods. Then she looks at Sasha. “Can I stay in your room?”

  Annie’s words are a sucker punch to my gut. My daughter would rather be with a woman she barely knows than with me.

  Sasha gives Annie a soft smile. “Of course. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a sleepover.”

  I force my features not to show my hurt when I pull Annie into a hug. “Try to keep the giggling to a minimum. Us old men need our sleep.”

  She squirms away from me. “Oh my god, dad. Why are you always so weird?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  VINCENT

  I don’t mean to eavesdrop. But when I step out of the bathroom and hear Annie’s voice, I can’t stop myself from walking over and standing next to the partially open bedroom door.