Sins of the Mother: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrificed Book 2)

by Mary E. Twomey

  “Are you teaching your ‘Tap Back into Your Magic’ class later on?” Cassia casually inquires, downing a few swallows.

  My mouth pulls to the side. “I’m not going to call it that, no matter how many times you suggest it. It’s not even a class. It’s just hanging out and figuring out how to…”

  The second I pause, Cassia chimes in, ever-so-helpfully with a smug “…tap back into your magic? How silly of me to call it what it is.”

  “Oh, shut it.”

  She engages in an obnoxious gyrating dance that she always does when she knows she’s right, and someone else is wrong. “Tell the students I’ll be there after my run. I could stand to brush up on a few things. I’m glad you’re putting your fancy education to work for us.”

  “They’re not students because it’s not a class!”

  Charlotte giggles as Cassia stretches, her pant leg riding up as she thuds her heel on the counter. “Is it a group of people that meet at a regular, specified time to learn more about a certain subject?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Sounds like a class to me, Professor Paxton. See ya!” Then she grins, turning with a flourish as she trots to the front door, flashing me another glimpse of her “I’m right, you suck” dance. “By the way, you’re still loading the dishwasher wrong!”

  The second the door closes, I grumble my frustration. “It’s like she wakes up ready to get on my last nerve.”

  Charlotte snickers as she munches on her orange segment. “Pretty much.”

  I itch to ask Charlotte again to teach me how to load the dishwasher, but I resist, reasoning that would only give Cassia yet another reason to be smug if she found out. I’m sure I loaded it just fine. “Do you want to come to the not-a-class and help instruct them?”

  “Not this morning. I’m going to go for a walk in the orchard. I love how the whole thing smells. Then I’m going to start up the lunch crew.”

  Though nothing’s blooming or growing in the orchard, I don’t bring that to her attention. Being outdoors for reasons other than grunt work at Prigham’s is a gift none of us takes for granted.

  “See if you can get Gray to join you, yeah? He’s stressed about the pack. You’re good at calming him down.”

  Charlotte’s smile falters. “He’ll get through it all. It just might take him some time. I can’t believe his own pack won’t take him back. Though, I’ll admit, I selfishly don’t want him to go back to them. He belongs with us.”

  “That’s the truth of it.”

  “Cheers, guys,” Gray says as he appears, his bare feet dragging as he mopes into the kitchen. “But I belong with my own people… who don’t want anything to do with me.”

  Instead of countering his logic or yet again pointing out that being with his pack would mean being without us, I trot over to him and scoop him up in a hug. Though he’s taller and bulkier than I am, his listless nature makes him feel smaller in my arms.

  I wait until his chin leans on my shoulder, which is how I know he can actually feel the fraternal affection I have for this man. He’s got too big a heart for this fight. The least I can do is be a safe place for him while he wrestles with the loss of the life he assumed he’d be able to return to.

  “Breakfast here or at the tent?” I inquire after I release him, making it subtly clear that skipping his first meal of the day is not an option anymore.

  “I don’t care. I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, I am, and I’m not about to eat alone. Let’s go to the tent.”

  “They stare at me when I’m there. It’s like being the only animal at the zoo. They know I don’t belong here. They’re wondering why I haven’t gone back to the pack.”

  I pat him twice on the back and turn to put my glass in the dishwasher, which I’m certain I loaded correctly. “Actually, I think people are friendlier to you now, since you were a crucial element in getting us out. They’re less prone to prejudice these days.”

  No matter how I try to compliment him about his role in our escape from prison, he won’t hear it. “I’m not hungry. I just came down to get some water. I’m thinking of tracking down another pack to see if they’ll let me join.”

  I pour him a drink, but remain firm. “You need to get some food in you. Fresh air will do you some good.”

  He takes a drink, which seems to perk him up a little. “Is Arly around?”

  “She’s been on the phone for most of the morning. I think she took her call out into the orchard, so as not to wake you.”

  “Okay. I’m stepping out for a bit. I’m sure I’ll catch her tonight.”

  I hate that I have to reach for the bait, but I’m not above subtle bribery at this point. “Arly hasn’t eaten breakfast yet. Maybe you should go fix her a plate. Sometimes she gets so wrapped up in the property that she forgets to eat.”

  That does it, though I wish Gray cared about his own well-being, rather than only coming to life for someone else’s benefit. Still, I’ll take what I can get, at this point. I can’t handle another day of him moping before he disappears on us all over again. “I can fix her a plate.”

  “That’s the spirit.” I chuck his shoulder and trot to the front door, sliding on my shoes. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll wait for you.”

  He shakes his head. “Why bother? I’m clean enough.”

  That certainly is one man’s opinion. His shoulder-length dark hair is greasy now, and looks like even the rubber band that’s holding it back from his face wants to desert him for a good scrubbing.

  He’s wearing the same black gym shorts and heather t-shirt he was handed when we first arrived on the property. Everyone took two changes of clothes, but I’ve only seen him in the one.

  He hasn’t let Rafe out since we escaped, and I know that’s part of his restlessness. Even when he visits the pack to try and petition his way back in, he won’t let his own kind see the monster his wolf has become.

  Gray is not ready to admit he’s part of our community. He’s been resisting any fae habits as much as possible, which has driven an invisible wedge between him and Arlanna.

  Every time Gray makes it clear he doesn’t belong here, Arlanna doubles down on her workload, saying nothing because she doesn’t want to force him to be with her.

  Or with us.

  I don’t know what I would do without my brother. He slumps into bed with Arlanna and me some time in the middle of the night, and sleeps though the morning most days. Then he waits until we’re out of the house before he runs off to track down any pack that might have him.

  We walk together to the white tent, which is larger than our house, and twice as tall. The place is buzzing with activity. The line to the food has died down, but the breakfast crew is still grinning like they’ve won the lottery. In a way, we all have. We were condemned as prisoners and then suddenly freed.

  Gray sticks next to me in the chow line, but he doesn’t grab a plate. I fix him one, since he’s not firing on all cylinders. I scoop anything he looks at twice atop his plate.

  “Thank you, everyone. This looks incredible.” And it truly does. Quiche squares, sausage, hash browns, fruit salad, and even a stack of crepes with a blintz filling, and a blueberry compote beside it. “Who made the crepes?”

  A woman grins at me, her white teeth nearly glowing against the umber of her skin. “I did. I was a chef before Prigham’s. Deepa, Your Majesty.” She introduces herself, sticking her hand out. But then she realizes I can’t take it, because I’m shuffling two plates, so she gives me a meek curtsey.

  “You’re spoiling us, Miss Deepa. I’m glad you filled out the survey and tapped into your strengths.”

  “Happy to help!” she chimes, ladling a neat line of the compote across my crepe, and then fixing Gray’s next.

  Her smile dims as she takes him in, but she doesn’t back away, as people normally did while we were on the inside. Ever since he helped us all escape by turning into his wolf monster, the whole of the commune touts a new level of somber respect fo
r him and his animal. A shifter took on a battalion of guards so the fae prisoners could escape.

  I wish Gray could see their distance for the reverence it is, and not the fear he assumes it will always be.

  I can see the honor Deepa has for him now as she folds his crepe with expert fingers. Now mine looks stupid and sloppy by comparison.

  “Mr. Knight,” she begins, her voice tentative. “I’ve been hoping we’d see you. I wanted to say thank you for helping us escape.”

  Gray barely registers her words, blinking as if she’s spoken in another language.

  He used to be “that shifter” but now he’s “Mr. Knight.” I like the respect that finds him, even if he’s too distracted and forlorn to appreciate it.

  “He’s not quite himself today,” I explain, wishing Gray was cogent enough to appreciate the adjustment in everyone’s mindset. Perhaps the entire commune’s new appreciation for shifters will melt into the rest of the world, teaching them that shifters are not beneath us.

  But those are goals for the illusive “someday.” Today, I’ll be happy if Gray eats.

  I find us a seat, loving the setup of the dining space. It’s just two lengthy tables that reach from one end of the enormous tent to the other, with benches that stretch on both sides. There aren’t separate spots for people to segregate themselves. Everyone seems to understand that this is our new start, and it’s to us to make this better than the futures that have been stolen from us.

  I’m ravenous, starved for proper meals with more than just caloric needs met. There’s care that’s gone into this spread. It makes these many ex-cons feel like family, and this tent like a home.

  Gray only picks up his fork when I remind him of our purpose for this little field trip.

  I’m almost sure he’s about to take his first bite when the entirety of the breakfast crowd stands, their chins dipping with reverence. I join them, but I don’t bow. Arlanna prefers the four she lives with don’t treat her like she’s any different than the rest.

  It’s a strange sight to take in the show of respect they’ve robbed her of from the beginning. Arlanna went from having her food tray knocked out of her hands every day to now being given the first spot in the line, though she never takes it. She’s humble, and understands that prestige can be jerked away in an instant.

  She also knows who she is, and doesn’t depend on other people to mirror that back to her.

  Arlanna’s not sleeping more than a handful of hours a night, which isn’t something she’s ready to discuss, though not for lack of me trying to reason with her. She’s jittery and always making lists, either out loud, in her mind or on paper.

  Everly Ann, her yipping white teacup terrier is almost always at Arlanna’s heels, and this morning is no exception. I reach down to pet the dog, but we both know the formality is all for show. It’s clear the dog despises me, but we get along for Arlanna’s sake.

  Gray leads her to sit between us, inching his plate to her, which I guess I should have predicted. His bond with her is intense. If she hasn’t eaten, he won’t stomach a bite until he’s certain she’s been fed. I’ve never seen him cut up her meal for her, but I wouldn’t put it past him.

  She’s a good sport about his hovering, which is a relief, because it’s the most he’ll interact with anyone.

  He gives Everly Ann a low rumble of what sounds like a friendly growl, if there is such a thing, and Everly Ann yips at him and wags her tail.

  Those two get along swimmingly.

  “Did you get enough fruit?” Gray stands halfway before she stops him.

  “It’s more than enough. Sit down and keep me company. I feel like I’ve had a full day already, and it’s barely nine o’clock.” It’s her way of taking care of him. I saw her do this dance two days ago, where he wouldn’t eat on his own, but when she fed him a bite off her plate, he complied. Between the four of us, we take decent care of Gray.

  She munches on a grape, and then spears a truckleberry and passes it between his lips.

  “You were gone when I woke up,” Gray complains.

  She’s not the type to slow her plans down for anyone. I love that about her. “You were gone when I went to sleep,” she counters, though without a note of tartness to her tone.

  Gray searches for a pack that will take him in all day, and doesn’t get home until the middle of the night. Arlanna doesn’t like to sleep without him, but she and I have managed to adjust. We have a nightlight and each other, so that helps.

  “You alright?” Gray inquires.

  She fakes a smile poorly as she pulls Everly Ann onto her lap. “Just loads to do. Wait until you see what’s coming.”

  My interest is piqued. “No hint for insiders?”

  She shakes her head. “I want to see the looks on your faces when they come. I mean, it’s not going to directly affect you two, but morale is about to shoot sky high.”

  I point my fork in the direction of the breakfasters, who are chatting animatedly and smiling down the entire lengths of both tables. “I don’t think morale is an issue, but I look forward to whatever you’ve been working on so intensely for days now. I’ve got a meeting with Sloan in a bit. Can the surprise wait until after that?”

  “Nope. Sloan’s coming with the surprise, so you won’t miss a thing. Actually, we should eat fast. Sloan’s idea of ‘on time’ is like, ten minutes early.”

  She sets down her dog and starts shoveling in her breakfast at a quicker pace, but still pauses every other bite to feed Gray.

  I don’t care that it’s dysfunctional. He’s eating, so I count it as a win.

  I hate that she still puts her elbow in front of her plate, as if she’s expecting someone is going to come up and snatch her meal from her. That might take some time to groom out of her, but I look forward to the day when I can take my girlfriend out on a proper date, and we talk about glorious nothings.

  Her cell phone chirps, alerting her to the fact that her meal is coming to a premature end. “Can you finish the rest, Gray? I need to go let Sloan in.” She turns and pecks my lips. “Pax, could you hit the gong? Everyone will want to see this.”

  “Sure thing.” I have no intention of ending my meal early, so I bring my plate with me, grabbing up the mallet that’s in the far corner of the long tent. I give the gong a whack, and everyone goes silent.

  Arlanna stands up on the table, allowing Gray to use his hands to steady her, though she doesn’t actually need the support. She grants everyone a passive smile that tells me she’s nervous at putting herself on the spot. She was just filled with lively energy, but in the midst of the people who taunted her and hurt her for so long, she’s more closed off.

  I don’t blame her.

  “Just one minute while the stragglers come in.” Her hands go to her stomach, straightening her cropped sweater and poising her body to appear more confident, though it’s clear she doesn’t feel it.

  Gray stands near her with his feet on the grass, like he’s readying to catch her, in case she takes a tumble. It’s sweet, if not a little manic. Though, he’s interacting at least, so I don’t complain. He gives Everly Ann a short whistle, letting her know now is not the time for her yipping.

  When the minute of wait time is up, the mess hall is silent. I can see Cassia and Charlotte holding hands near one of the tent’s corners.

  Arlanna’s voice carries throughout the tent while Everly Ann whines that her mum is so precariously perched. “I just wanted to say how much I appreciate everyone being such a good sport about the tent situation. I know this isn’t what you all were planning on when we escaped. I’ve watched you all take turns with the showers, too. There’s so much of a family feel to this place; I’m humbled that I get to be part of it.” She pauses, and I watch her thumb twitch against her leg. She wants to fiddle with her sleeve, I can tell, but she maintains her composure. “Sloan and I have been working hard to make this place more livable for everyone. I didn’t want to say anything until it was a done deal, but I finally ha
ve more good news to share with you all.”

  She’s stunning up there, standing on the table with her long chocolate hair twirled up in a ballerina bun. She’s always commanded my attention, but more often than not these days, she commands hundreds, who are happy to do whatever it is she asks.

  “A generous donor stepped in to help us with more permanent housing.” Ripples of gasps spread throughout the tent, but no one dares speak to interrupt her. “The owner of a trailer park sold his land recently, and decided to give us the vacant trailers at cost. Some of them need some love and attention, but if we can pitch in and fix them up, there will be enough for every group of four here. I’ve been plotting out the land for days, and if we are able to move a few trees, our land will soon have its own beautiful neighborhood.”

  The land is not ours. This land is hers, and she’s sharing it with nearly five hundred ex-cons. But at no point does she ever speak like that. She’s generous because that’s who she is, and everyone loves her for it. She went from the reason the world was broken to becoming their saving grace.

  A smile breaks out on her composed face when a few squeals of delight echo up. “Cass, can you form teams and appoint team leaders for the tasks on this list?” She pulls a piece of paper from her pocket and hands it to Gray, who passes it off to Cassia. “Sloan is on his way in with the first fleet of houses. It’s going to be a big day, people. I need everyone to do me a favor and keep up that team spirit that’s made my heart swell so much these past two weeks. I’m proud of each and every one of you for sharing the resources and doing what you can to make this a place where we’re all grateful to live.”

  My brows raise as several people leap up to volunteer. I can’t believe how closely she plays her hand to the vest. I had no idea this was all in the works. I mean, I knew she was working on finding more weatherproof housing for the rest of the inmates, but I had no idea the details were already finessed and taken care of.