The Sin Trilogy Bundle: A Necessary Sin, the Next Sin, One Last Sin

by Georgia Cates

  “My grandchildren will be Amanda’s grandchildren. They’ll each carry a small piece of her and me in them. You can’t imagine how incredibly special that will make them to me.”

  I hadn’t thought of that.

  “Your mum will be so pleased to have a baby in the family. She adores children.”

  “I suspect as much.” I’m certain my mum is itching to get her hands on a grandchild since all of her children were taken from her so young.

  I understand my father did what he thought was right for The Fellowship but he was wrong. And I don’t plan on repeating his mistakes. He needs to know this early on. “If we have a son, I won’t take him from her.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Your son must be raised in The Fellowship way.”

  “And he will be—raised by both of his parents.”

  “The brotherhood will not agree.”

  “Their approval is not a requirement.”

  “Your son will be a weak leader if he’s not raised among strong councilmen.”

  My father is wrong. “I’m stronger with Bleu by my side. The same will be true for our children. End of story.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bleu Breckenridge

  Treva has shown me far more than I ever wanted to see on the third floor housing BI. The average person walking through would only see a nice business front. What they wouldn’t pick up on is the slew of illegal activities happening behind the scenes.

  They steal from thieves, terrorists, rival criminal organizations, and so on. I find myself justifying the acts they commit. The longer I’m one of them, the easier it is to turn a blind eye. The agent I was a year ago would never have done that.

  I return to the legal department and to Sin’s office. I sit in his chair and pick up the framed photo of us on his desk. It was taken at my initiation during the vow ceremony. He had just cut my hand, and then his own. Our fingers are laced, a trickle of blood oozing down our arms. It was such a primitive thing for him to do. And hot. I still remember how much I wanted him afterward.

  My phone alerts me to a new message.

  *Tied up with a client. Don’t know how long I’ll be. See you at home in a little while. Love you.*

  Well, no christening the couch tonight. And no dirty deeds that should never see the light of day. Not that they would have anyway. It’s already dark out.

  I pull on my coat and situate my scarf so I don’t freeze my ass off when I walk out into the frigid wind. It’s going to take awhile for this southern girl to grow accustomed to the cold.

  I leave my husband’s office and find Linsey sitting at her desk. It’s after five o’clock and she’s the only one left—besides me.

  “Linsey.” She jerks at the sound of my voice. She’s undeniably surprised to see me.

  She clears her voice and does a terrible job of forcing a faux cough as I move toward her. She fidgets, straightening stacks of files on her desk, moving the same pile three times.

  “Did you have a good day touring BI?”

  “Very good, thank you.”

  I’m not like other women. I don’t feed into female drama. I’ve never played their catty games and I won’t now. But I strongly suspect this woman is hanging around the office to steal a moment with my husband. She needs to understand that’s unacceptable and I won’t tolerate it.

  I wheel an empty chair from a neighboring vacant desk into Linsey’s space. I sit so we’re facing one another.

  My original plan was to get in her face, threaten her with bodily harm if she ever tried that shit with my husband again. The scene played out in my head most of the morning. But my plan has changed. The strong woman Sin needs by his side wouldn’t deal with this situation in that manner.

  Leadership isn’t a position or title. It’s action and example. Everyone is watching to see how I’ll react to the problems thrown my way.

  “Say my name, Linsey.”

  “Mrs. Breckenridge.” Her eyes are large, her voice unsteady.

  “Correct. I’m Mrs. Breckenridge. That means Sin has a wife so there’s only room for one woman in his bed.”

  “I … ”

  I hold my hand up to silence her. “Distrust is our only defense against betrayal. And I’d like to thank you for making it clear early on that I should never trust you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” There’s little that annoys me more than a woman playing dumb.

  “Sin will be leader of The Fellowship when Thane steps down. I’m his wife. That will make me your leader. You’ve already lost my trust. Do you really want to lose my respect as well?”

  She fidgets in her chair. Her legs bounce. She bites her bottom lip.

  “I know what you think of me but you’re wrong. I’m not like those women who want to be claimed. I didn’t volunteer for this job so I could be close to Sin and make a place for myself at the top of the hierarchy. I want to work and be independent so I don’t have to count on a man for everything.”

  I watch her body language as she speaks. I think she’s telling me the truth but I suspect there’s more to the story.

  “That sounds all well and good until you factor in the part where you tried to sleep with Sin while I was away. I’m a firm believer that when someone shows you who they are, you’re wise to believe them.”

  She looks defeated. “I didn’t want to do it.”

  “Elaborate.”

  “Abram made me,” she says.

  That son of a bitch.

  “What were his instructions?” I ask.

  “He told me to fuck Sinclair until he forgot you.”

  That bastard knew Sin loved me and would come for me.

  “You realize you’re betraying Abram by confiding in me?”

  “I value your trust and respect more than his. I’m hoping you’ll see it as a gesture of good faith. And perhaps come to forget what I did.”

  Linsey isn’t stupid. She understands loyalty to Abram won’t serve her well for long since Sin will be replacing him soon.

  Abram is cunning. I’m sure he made this woman feel as though her only choice was to carry out his orders.

  Harry taught me that honorable people choose to restore dignity in others. “I think it’s possible we can put this behind us. But remember—you can’t ask for trust. It can only be earned.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. I think this was a very productive meeting.” I get up and return my chair back to its home. “Would you like to walk out with me?”

  “I think I would.”

  She gathers her things and we step onto the lift together. “The other Fellowship women, I mean the ones you’ve spent time with this week, like you very much. I see why.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.”

  We stop in the lobby of the BI building to bundle up before stepping out into the cold. “Want to share a cab?”

  “My sister is picking me up. We have a standing date for dinner every Monday night. You should join us.”

  Sin has no idea how long he’ll be tied up. I don’t really want to go home to an empty house.

  “I’d like that very much.”

  * * *

  After dinner, I part ways with Linsey and her sister. Sterling is busy with Sin so I’m left with cabbing it home.

  The wind is brutal. I immediately want to return to the warmth I’ve just left. I pull on gloves and shiver in the faint drizzle. Though it’s not enough for an umbrella, I lift my hood to cover my head since it’ll eventually accumulate and leave me with a wet head.

  I walk to the edge of the street to hail a taxi. Thank God I don’t have to wait long. I’m chilled to the bone.

  I call out my address to the driver. His voice comes over the speaker into the back of the cab. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

  It’s the accent. I think Scots ask me to repeat things so they can get another listen and try to peg where I’m from.

  I open my mouth to repeat my address and see Abram leaving the same res
taurant. He gets into the taxi in front of us.

  Sin says I must have proof if I’m going to name Abram a suspect. There’s only one way to find proof. I must investigate him. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like you to follow that cab in front of us instead.”

  We leave the financial district. We take a bazillion side roads, finally landing in a small village on the edge of the city. Abram’s taxi stops in front of a tiny stone cottage. “Drive past slowly.”

  This doesn’t look like the psychopath’s type of hangout. He enjoys the finer things in life so I’m intrigued by what would bring the high-and-mighty Abram to this neck of the woods.

  I duck low in the back seat and watch him walk toward the cottage’s front door. “Pull forward and I’ll get out two cottages down.”

  I backtrack to the house and note it’s a private residence. He’s visiting someone. Who?

  I doubt this will benefit my investigation at all but one important lesson I learned from being an agent: a discovery can seem entirely unrelated and then turn out to be the crucial piece of evidence to blow the lid off.

  I’m covered by darkness so I don’t fear gaining the attention of the neighbors as I dart around to the back of the stone cottage. I tiptoe across the damp grass but I don’t have far to go. The backyard is tiny, as most are in Edinburgh.

  I listen for a moment and then peek through the window of the back entrance. No sign of Abram or his host.

  I turn the knob and discover it’s locked. No problem. I’ve been picking locks like this since I was thirteen.

  I take my lock-picking instruments from my purse. I consider them a staple for my handbag, the same as some women carry lip gloss.

  I insert the tension wrench into the lower portion of the keyhole. I put the pick into the upper part and rake the pins. In under a minute, music to my ears as the tumbler clicks over. “Boosh.”

  That was too easy. No way this place belongs to someone from The Fellowship. Or any other criminal organization. There’s no deadbolt or barrier preventing a home invasion. The person living in this place isn’t concerned with such things.

  I slowly crack the door. The creak of hinges is the only sound. No voices. Odd.

  I move through the kitchen, coming to a sudden stop when my weight causes the floor beneath my feet to creak. Damn these old buildings.

  No one is in the living area. That’s where one would expect a visit to occur. Again, odd. Until I hear the sound from the room at the end of the hallway. Grunts. Moans. Rhythmic squeaking. I can’t mistake it for anything else. Sex.

  Well, well. The psychopath has a lover. And I’d bet my ass she isn’t Fellowship. No way a woman from within the circle would stay in a dump like this when she knows Abram could put her up in the finest flat in Edinburgh.

  I don’t need to see what’s happening. I’ll vomit if I do. I creep out the same way I crept in.

  I sit on the bench at the bus stop on the corner and pull my hood tightly over my head. I wrap my scarf around the lower half of my face for warmth. And concealment.

  Abram leaves ten minutes later. Not a cuddler, I suppose. No shock there.

  My mind goes into brainstorm mode on the best way to connect with this woman. Sometimes it’s like hiding in plain sight. The most obvious is the most oblivious. I’ll just knock on her door.

  A beautiful blond in a silky night robe answers.

  “Hello. I’m so sorry to bother you but I’m trying to find the Croft residence.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know them but I haven’t lived in this neighborhood for long.” She points to the cottage to her left. “Maybe you want to check with the Mrs. Darrow next door. She knows everyone in this area—along with their personal business.”

  Sounds as though Mrs. Darrow may be a busybody who likes to gossip? “Thank you. I’ll do that.”

  I make a beeline to the neighbor’s home, an exact replica of the nearby cottage. “Hello. I was just next door but it seems your neighbor isn’t home. I’m trying to find out who owns the property.”

  “And why would ye be wanting to know that?”

  “I’m sorry. I should have explained myself. I was told the house would be going on the market but I don’t see a sign with contact information. I’m hoping to make an offer before anyone else shows interest so I might secure it at a better price.”

  “Are ye married?”

  “Aye.” I quickly use my thumb to flip my huge diamond around so it’s facing inside. I flash my left hand. “Happily.”

  “Children?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I’d like to get someone quiet in here to take her place. Her name is Cameron Ewart. I have her number if you’d like it.”

  “Yes. That would be wonderful.”

  She opens her door wider. “Come in, lass.”

  “You’d likely do better reaching her at night. The lazy bag of bones stays up all night and sleeps all day. Worthless.”

  I follow her into her kitchen. She takes out a notepad from a drawer and scribbles her neighbor’s name. She finds a second notepad and copies over her contact.

  “I’m Mrs. Darrow, by the way.”

  “I’m Joanna Glenn. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  And that’s how it begins. The unraveling of a detailed story about Cameron Ewart follows. I learn far more than I dared hope about the woman Abram came to visit.

  At first glance, none of it appears to help my case but there’s room for deeper investigating.

  Sin won’t like it. He’s not yet in a place where he’s able to see Abram for the monster he is. That’ll come. With proof.

  I have a plan but I’ll need help. I can’t depend on Sin for that. But Isobel is a different story. She hates Abram as much as I do.

  I won’t be finding a taxi for a lift home in this village. I take my phone from my purse. “I need to see you—without Thane. And I could use a ride.”

  * * *

  Isobel has made tea. I smell it the minute I step inside her house. Mint—my favorite.

  “Come. We’ll take tea in the sitting room.”

  The sitting room is an indulgent space, clearly a woman’s territory. Lavish rug. Exquisite furnishings. Delicate, feminine accent pieces. Isobel’s style is understated classy. Unlike Abram and Torri’s ostentatious home.

  She places a cup and saucer on the cocktail table. I already know she has prepared it to my liking. She’s thoughtful that way.

  “Thank you.” I wrap my cold hands around the warm cup and sip. It feels good on my throat.

  She already knows I’m here about Abram. I told her that much over the phone. “I assume ye’ve discovered something good since ye wanted tae see me without Thane?”

  I’m not sure what my findings could lead to but my instincts tell me I’m on to something. “I followed him today.”

  The corners of her mouth turn up, her expression telling me she approves of my actions—unlike Sin. I’m certain he’d be very angry with me. “And?”

  “He went to a house in East Lothian and had sex with a woman. I don’t think she’s Fellowship.”

  Isobel sputters tea. “I’m not sure I want tae ask how ye know this.”

  “It’s possible I may have picked the lock and entered the house through the back door.” I shrug. “Maybe.”

  She no longer approves. I know by the way she’s looking at me. It’s the same expression Harry used to give me. I think it can only be mastered by a parent. “That was a risky thing tae do.”

  Isobel is worried for my safety. I love her dearly for that. “I was in and out in a snap.”

  “I understand the extent of training ye’ve had in this type of thing, but it doesn’t stop me from being concerned for ye. Especially when Abram is involved. He’s dangerous.”

  “I know.” I trust Isobel. I can confide in her. “I’ve added him to my list of suspects.”

  “What’s led ye tae that conclusion?”

  I explain why Abram has popped onto my radar. “Sin says I c
an’t accuse Abram without concrete proof but I think I may know how to get it. This woman is having sex with him. She’ll know if he has a scar on his leg.”

  “How do ye plan on getting her tae tell ye this?”

  “Asking won’t work.” This is where the plan gets a little hairy. “So I’ll do it by force. At gunpoint.”

  “Oh, Bleu. I don’t know about that.”

  “I’ve had a gun pointed at my head before.” I’ve not yet forgotten the way it felt when Sin held that pistol to my jaw and threatened to blow my brains out. “It greatly improves your motivation to talk.”

  “When would ye do this?” she asks.

  “I was thinking the best time would be when Sin’s called away in the middle of the night on Fellowship business. It happens at least once a week. He’ll be gone until morning. I could slip out and be back before he comes home.”

  “Are ye sure ye want tae do this behind Sin’s back?”

  I wish I didn’t have to. “He doesn’t support me where this is concerned.”

  “The girl will tell Abram it was an American.”

  “I’ve been practicing my accent.” It’s not great but it’s better than Ellison’s.

  I spout off a few lines in my best impression. Isobel’s expression becomes pained. “Oh dear.”

  “That bad?”

  “Aye. It’s fairly awful.”

  I thought I sounded decent. “I can keep practicing.”

  “She’s a Scots. She’ll know a phony.” She sighs. “There’s only one solution. I’ll go with ye and do the talking.”

  I can’t bring Isobel into this. If Thane found out, it could cause huge problems for her. “I can’t involve you.”

  “The girl will know you’re American. There’s no mistaking that sweet, southern voice. Then Abram will know. That can’t happen.”

  Shit. She’s right. My goose is cooked if Abram figures out I’m on to him. He won’t want to be exposed to Thane as his beloved’s killer. He’ll go to extreme measures to avoid proof of his guilt. That includes silencing me.