A Necessary Sin

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A Necessary Sin Page 22

by Georgia Cates


  His eyes lift from the book lying open on his desk to his computer and he notices me standing there. The lopsided grin I love so much makes an appearance just for me. I covet it, especially when it’s accompanied by a single dimple. “Hey, you.”

  “I hate to bother you. Can I have a minute?”

  “I always have a minute for you.” He pushes away from his desk and pats the top of his thigh. “Come see me.”

  I sit on his lap, sliding my arm around his shoulder for support. He pushes my hair away from my face so he can clearly see my eyes. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you for a moment about something that’s been on my mind.”

  “Sounds serious.” He rubs his hand over my back in a circular motion.

  “I’m afraid I don’t make a very good kept woman. I’m used to working. Daily yoga and meal planning isn’t my thing.”

  “Okay. I get it—you’re bored—and I assume you’ve come to me because you have a solution?”

  “What are your thoughts about me moving my photography business here?” I ask, having no idea what kind of response I’ll get.

  “Hmm … I don’t dislike the idea but I think your services could be better utilized by The Fellowship. Working for the public does nothing for the brotherhood.”

  I can sort of see where he’s going with this. “How might I serve The Fellowship?”

  “You’re a photographer. We could often use the services of a professional.”

  I’m liking this idea much better. “You mean you’d have me taking surveillance photos?”

  “Aye. It’s something we require on a regular basis so I think it’s worth considering.”

  Criminals interest me far more than blushing brides and other people’s crying babies. Since I’ve been trained in surveillance, this will work out much better for me. “I like it.”

  Now here comes the part about getting me back to the US so I can spend time with Harry. “All of my equipment is stored at my studio. I’ll need to make a trip home so I can pack it and ship everything here. I have my aunt’s settlement so I can take care of closing the studio for good while I’m there.”

  “I’ll need to run it by Dad but I think he’ll be pleased with the idea.”

  “I wouldn’t rouse suspicion since I don’t look the part of the typical Fellowship member you’d utilize for surveillance. Hopefully, your father would see me as an asset.”

  “I agree. And going home would give you a chance to visit with your father and sister. I’m sure you miss them.”

  “I do, terribly.” He can’t possibly imagine how much.

  “Then we shall get you home.” Sin takes off his glasses, putting them on his desk. “I haven’t given you the attention you deserve this week. For that, I’m sorry, so I’m going to put this work away until another time.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think we should go out tonight. Maybe invite some friends to go to the casino with us? What do you think?”

  That sounds like fun. I haven’t been gambling in a while. “I would like that very much.”

  * * *

  There are six of us. Sin invited Jamie and Leith. I invited the only two girls I feel like I know at all—Lorna and Westlyn. That sucks for Jamie since Westlyn is his sister but Lorna is in love with Leith, so maybe I’m doing her a favor by bringing them together outside of work.

  “What would you like to play first?” Sin asks.

  Blackjack is my game. I’m a card counter—but I tell no one. I believe my mother was one as well. Perhaps that’s how she fell into the gaming profession. I guess you can say gambling is in my blood.

  I don’t want to give myself away. “I should probably start with the American roulette table.”

  Westlyn, Lorna, and I take the seats at the table while the men stand behind us. Sin tosses a pile of bills on the table and the dealer changes them for chips. “I’ve got the first round.”

  Damn. He’s spotting everyone.

  We’ve never discussed finances but I know how much money Sin has. It was part of my research—to know how much and where his funds come from. He has legit investments that have nothing to do with The Fellowship. He’s highly intelligent when it comes to capital so he’s a wealthy young man. I’m sure that’s another reason all the single Fellowship ladies are so sad to see him take up with the likes of me. I don’t love the thought of how many women would like to have him.

  I can think of one good thing about Sin substituting in my place for my endurance test. No woman from The Fellowship will ever question his feelings for me. He still hasn’t said those words. I’m not sure he ever will but what he did leaves no question in my heart or mind. Sinclair loves me.

  Everyone places bets but I go straight for the zero and double zero. It’s my favorite wager because the payout is greater. “That’s all you’re betting?”

  “It’s a good bet. If either of the zeroes hits, it’ll pay well.” I’m not going to place stupid bets simply because I’m not using my own money.

  Lorna is clueless about what she’s doing. She’s placed several wagers that will cancel one another out so I turn to Leith behind me. “You should help Lorna. She has no idea what she’s doing.”

  “Lorna makes her own decisions.” He brings his whisky to his mouth and tosses it back.

  “She doesn’t understand the rules of the game. Her bets don’t make sense and the dealer isn’t going to tell her the difference.”

  “Then she shouldn’t play games she doesn’t understand.” Leith can be cold toward Lorna at times. I never noticed him being that way with the other girls at the bar. I’ll need to ask Sin later if he knows what Leith’s problem is.

  I don’t fare well at the roulette table so I decide it’s time to head over for some blackjack. “I’ve lost enough here. I’m going to try my luck at cards. Want to come with me?”

  “Aye.” We sit side by side. “Do you know how to play?”

  I avoid a direct answer. “You try to come closer to twenty-one than the dealer without busting?”

  He seems satisfied with my understanding.

  “Good luck,” the dealer says.

  The first cards dealt are low so I assign them a value using the hi-lo strategy. Low numbers are more beneficial to the dealer but the good news about pulling low ones is that my odds increase for higher ones, which benefits me. For every low number played, the percentage of high cards in the remaining shoe increases.

  I choose to stay while Sin increases his bet. “You shouldn’t have done that. You’re gonna bust.”

  “We’ll see.” He sounds so cocky.

  The cards are dealt and it plays out exactly as I predicted. “Dealer wins.”

  “Told you,” I say.

  “You lost too.”

  I did but that won’t last after I count a few more hands. “I lost the minimum, unlike you.”

  “You have to spend money to make money.”

  “Or you watch and bet wisely,” I argue.

  “All right, lass. Show me how it’s done.” And that’s exactly what I do with the next dozen hands. My stack of chips grows while his diminishes. “You’re a natural.”

  Yes, I am. And he has no idea why.

  I win four more hands and see I’m gaining the attention of the pit boss. We need to roll.

  I lean over to kiss the side of Sin’s face and whisper, “It’s time to leave, Breck.”

  “But you’re doing so well.” Now isn’t the time for him to argue.

  “I don’t want to keep you out too long. You have to work in the morning.” I push my chips in to exchange them for larger ones. “Let’s cash out and go home.”

  “Sin, you have quite the blackjack player with you tonight.” Oh, shit. The pit boss knows who Sin is. I don’t see this going well.

  “This is Bleu MacAllister,” Sin introduces. Now he knows who I am as well. “Bleu, meet Todd Cockburn.”

  “Hello, Bleu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

/>   We’re in a casino. He’ll refuse my hand if I extend it so I offer a smile and nod instead. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “We missed you at Bleu’s initiate ceremony,” Sin says.

  What?

  Todd shrugs and gestures at his surroundings. “Someone had to be here running this place.”

  A dealer from across the pit approaches. “Mr. Cockburn, I’m sorry to interrupt you and Mr. Breckenridge, but we have a problem.”

  “Duty calls,” Todd says.

  Sin is wearing a teasing grin.

  “This casino is Fellowship?”

  “Aye.” He laughs.

  “I was ready to dash out of here because I thought I’d been discovered.”

  “For what?”

  “Card counting—as if you didn’t know.”

  I look at the dealer and she smiles. “It took a while for me to catch on.” She looks at Sin and shrugs. “The lass is quite good.”

  “Yes. She’s quite good at everything she does, I’m afraid.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sinclair Breckenridge

  Bleu is going home. I won’t see her for two weeks. I’m not sure how I’ll handle being without her for so long since we haven’t spent a day apart in three months.

  We said our goodbyes last night—all night long. There were many times I considered telling Bleu the things on my heart. I. Love. You. They’re three simple little words—but I couldn’t bring myself to say them.

  Work has robbed me of the time I’d prefer to spend with Bleu. That’s why I’m taking the afternoon off to be with my lass. Her red-eye flight doesn’t depart until almost midnight so we’ll have several hours to … say goodbye again.

  I’m already in the shower when I hear her come into the bathroom. I expect her to join me at any minute—but she doesn’t—so I grip the handrail and peek around the tile wall.

  She has taken off her gown and is standing in front of the mirror naked, looking at her body. “Admiring yourself?”

  “No.” She laughs and twists, moving her hand to her hip. “I was wondering what a Celtic shield like yours would look like right here.”

  She wants matching ink? “Stunning—that’s how it would look.”

  “You’d approve?”

  “Of course.”

  She comes into the shower with me, putting her arms around my body from behind. “I know I told you a hundred times last night but I’m going to miss you like crazy,” she says.

  “I’ll miss you too, my Bonny Bleu. I mean that.” I can tell her I’ll miss her but why can’t I man up and spit out the words I so desperately want to say?

  I still have tonight. That gives me all day to think about the perfect way to broach the subject.

  “Will you be seeing your doctor while you’re in the States?” She mentioned making an appointment. I hope she does because I’m very concerned about the way the diabetic medication makes her feel.

  “I doubt I’ll be able to get in to see her on such short notice. You usually have to have an appointment months in advance.”

  “If you can’t, I’ll make sure you get in with the best doctor here when you come back.” She’s let this go on for months. She should have already been seen by someone.

  I turn and wrap my arms around Bleu. There’s nothing better than the feel of her wet body pressed against mine. “I wish I had time to make love to you in the shower but I don’t. I have early court this morning.”

  “No worries. We’ll take advantage of the time we have before I have to go to the airport.”

  * * *

  It’s five o’clock and I’m on my way out the door when Heather stops me. “Mr. Breckenridge. I’m so glad I caught you. I have a message from your uncle. He wants you to come by his office.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, sir. He said it was an urgent matter.”

  No fucking way! If I rushed home, I might have four hours with Bleu before she has to leave. I don’t want to waste that precious time with Abram instead of being with her in our bed.

  I dial Abram’s number. “I got your message but Bleu has a red-eye, so I’ll be in a rush to get her to the airport.” Not the whole truth. “Can we reschedule for the morning?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s pertinent you see me before she leaves.” I doubt that. “Trust me, Sinclair. You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

  “I’ll come for ten minutes.” That’s all the time I’ll allow him to steal from Bleu.

  I can walk the distance between our offices in the financial district in about fifteen minutes, but I’m in a hurry so I catch a taxi instead. Abram’s secretary is still there when I arrive. “Mr. Breckenridge will see you.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stand in the doorway of Abram’s office. He’s combing through a file spread wide across his desk, appearing completely engrossed—or obsessed. I tap on the door to gain his attention. “I’m here.”

  “Aah … Sinclair. Come in and take a seat, my boy.”

  He hasn’t called me his boy in years. He’s absolutely giddy, so I don’t expect this to be good. “I can’t stay. I’m in a hurry.”

  “Yes. I hear our dear Bleu will be leaving the country.”

  “Only for a couple of weeks. She’s going home to retrieve her photography equipment and visit her family. She’s not seen them in months.” Why am I explaining this to him?

  He gestures for me to come inside. “You make me nervous standing around like that. Come in and sit.”

  I do as he asks. “I said ten minutes. You’re down to eight.”

  “Then I shall get on with it,” he says. “It has recently come to my attention that someone has been meddling in my business, so to protect my interests, I inventoried my vulnerabilities.”

  I already know where this is going—Bleu. “This again? Really? Why are you unable to let it go?”

  He tosses several photos across his desk in my direction. “Take a look for yourself and you’ll understand why.”

  I pick up the stack of photos—all of Bleu dressed in an iconic uniform I recognize. In one, she’s standing next to a sign: FBI Academy. Quantico, VA. The others clearly display her accepting a diploma and then posing with it while giving a thumbs up. “Where did you get these?”

  “The home of Harold MacAllister, her father.” He scatters the photos and scours through them. “This is an interesting story. It becomes more and more intriguing the deeper you dig.” He holds up a picture of Bleu with a man, both dressed in FBI uniforms. “You see, it turns out Bleu followed in her father’s footsteps—being a part of the FBI is a family trait.”

  I’m numb. It’s a fucking blow to learn Bleu’s been lying to me all this time, but my brain can’t make the connection. The States shouldn’t have any kind of interest in anything we do. “The FBI can’t touch us.”

  Abram gets up and goes to his liquor cabinet. He pours two whiskies. “I don’t give two shits about the FBI. However, I care a lot about Bleu claiming to be a photographer from Memphis, Tennessee, when the evidence tells us otherwise.”

  There has to be an explanation, one that explains why Abram is wrong and I’m not in love with a woman who has betrayed me. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

  “It’s not your job to find out anything. Leith is the one who originally let her slip in when he hired her. That’s a mistake he’ll pay for, but it was you who brought her into your bed and made her part of this family. It’s your responsibility to take her out.”

  He isn’t suggesting I safely send her home. “You want me to kill her.”

  “I want you to make good on the promise you made.” I know the exact one he’s referring to. I said I would be the one to do it if she turned out to be something different than she claimed to be.

  “I remember but …” I love her.

  “After the first betrayal, there is no other.” I know the motto well. Many brothers have died for far less. “You know there’s no other way—absolute and unwa
vering loyalty to you and The Fellowship. You must demand that from any woman in your life.”

  I see the evidence but I refuse to accept it. “There has to be an explanation.”

  “She has betrayed you and The Fellowship. She can never be trusted now. She must die.”

  I can’t do it. “I love her. She’s mine. I’ve claimed her.”

  “Do you love her enough to die in her place?” I do but killing me wouldn’t save Bleu and it would never satisfy Abram. He’s thirsty for her blood.

  “Listen very carefully, Sinclair. Bleu played the part of the perfect woman for you—because it was her job. That’s why she was so easy for you to love, but none of it is real,” Abram says.

  I thumb through piles of photos of Bleu and see a woman I don’t know. “Everything was a lie—a figment—right in front of my face, and I didn’t see it.” What does that say about me?

  Abram leans back in his chair, his fingers interlaced, hands clasped. “From the heart’s point of view, this must feel like an immense betrayal. But for Bleu, it was just business. She was here doing a job she was hired to do and she was damn good at it. Don’t knock yourself too badly. Think of it as a lesson well learned.”

  “I don’t know how to kill the woman I love.”

  “Quickly—it’s the only way. Before your heart, or dick, has time to interfere.”

  “I’m losing my lass, the only one I’ve ever loved.”

  “Your heart is telling you to mourn the loss, but the truth is that your lass was never real. She didn’t exist.” Try convincing my heart of that.

  “I understand she made you fall in love her. That’s why I’ll overlook you killing her quickly and painlessly.”

  He’s right. Again. But for the life of me, I have no idea how I’ll kill this woman I love so dearly. I can’t imagine a darker sin.

 

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