Sinners & Saints (Sinners & Saints #1)

by Ballinger, Chelsea

  She walks over to the entryway and leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

  “Patrick Townsend, gorgeous, twenty-seven… he’s old money. The wealthiest family in Boston. The eighth richest family in the Northeast.”

  “I know. They’re Town Corporation, my father’s rivals. Also the third largest privately owned corporation in America. Let me guess, Patrick’s the golden boy.” I take off my pants and underwear while still staring at her. Her eyes stream down, grinning.

  “Yes, he is.” She’s still staring down. “He’s actually a good person.”

  I arch my brow. “And you? You are going to marry him?”

  She fondles with her diamond necklace with her left hand, intentionally flashing the diamond ring on her finger. “He adores me… and his family is connected and well respected. Imagine it. Our marriage will make me queen of the Upper Eastside.”

  I roll my eyes, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my waist. “A dream we should all aspire to.”

  “Don’t condescend me, Hugo,” she snaps. “At least I’m using my gifts for something bigger, unlike you.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you are still shacking up here and still fucking the usual spoiled debutantes. Where is the ambition?”

  “We’re all not interested in reigning over people whose hardest daily choices in life are should I drive the Porsche or take the limo.” I move past her and head to the bathroom.

  “Did you even pick a major yet?” She follows.

  “Yes, I did. Art History.”

  I drop my towel while she huffs. “Are you serious?”

  “I thought it would be a perfect way to piss off my father.” I step in the shower, closing the glass door and turn on the hot water. “Originally, I took the course so I could sleep with Mrs. Bowman’s daughter, Gretchen. Payback for the time she snitched on us during Fashion Week.”

  She opens her mouth to respond but then tugs her lips in, arching a brow. “Hmph, not bad.” I knew she’d approve. During Fashion Week in New York, Scarlett and I played a little game with an up and coming model that left her passed out on oxycodone. Mrs. Bowman, well known fashion editor, was pissed and blamed Scarlett and I, leaving us both being chastised by the people we hate the most—our parents.

  “I receive the inheritance that my mother left me and August this year on our twenty-third birthday. I will then be free of my father.”

  She snickers. “Oh sweetie, you and I both know that we are never truly free of them until they’re dead.”

  “I’ll be. Now are you getting in or what?”

  She bites her lip, giving me one last look up and down and sighs. “Sadly, no. I am a hundred percent focused on Patrick; therefore, you and I’s physical relationship can no longer be continued.”

  I frown. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, I’m not. I don’t need anything fucking this up. So, continue sticking it elsewhere.” She raises her chin at me. “Maybe you should give the new girl a try.”

  “She’s a bit of a complex nuisance.”

  “I thought you liked a challenge.”

  “I love a challenge, but I don’t like surprises.”

  “She? Modern day Marry Poppins is a surprise?”

  “You haven’t interacted with her enough.”

  “I thought she only got here yesterday?”

  “Yeah, well like you she gives a fascinating first impression.”

  She begins to frown. Scarlett doesn’t like anyone close to being as special as she is. She’s insecure that way.

  “I think you should break her.”

  “Well, I think you should enjoy this glorious shower with me, but we can’t always get what we want.”

  “You forget,” she opens the door and I lean in. She plants a kiss on my lips and whispers, “I always get what I want.”

  She backs away smiling. She gets ready to turn around before stopping. “Oh, also I’ll be bringing my fiancé to dinner here tonight. If you’re good, I’ll let you feel me up under the table.”

  JULIET

  Dinner starts off quiet. Scarlett has returned only now with her fiancé on her arm. Patrick Townsend is very handsome. He has that all American thing going for him. His hair is dark brown, his eyes crystal blue and a smile that can literally light up a room. With those perfect white teeth and adorable dimples. He’s charming, kind, he seems like a natural born leader. It’s clear that he is engaged to the wrong woman.

  “So when is the glorious wedding, Scarlett, my dear?” Ms. Eleanor asks, her eyes gleaming at her plate of sushi temaki.

  “We’re planning for a June wedding next year,” Scarlett says, sliding her hand into his, their fingers intertwining.

  “Uh! June weddings are always the best.” Ms. Eleanor clears her throat, raises her delicate arms and begins to sing. “For they say when you marry in June, you will always! Always! Always! Be a bride!”

  “She really loves classic American musicals,” Jordana whispers to me.

  “Apparently, things are still the same,” Scarlett says, disapprovingly. I don’t like that.

  “So, Hugo,” Patrick addresses Hugo who is sitting at the head of the table. “I’m glad to finally meet you. Scarlett has always told me about you. She speaks highly of you and says you’re like a little brother to her.”

  Hugo semi smirks. “Yes,” he answers and I’m noticing his arm reaching under the table. No bloody way! Is he feeling her up?! The smile spreading across her face right now and the lip biting definitely confirms it. Of course this Patrick, poor bastard, he is totally oblivious. “She is too the sister I’ve never had. You are a very lucky man, Patrick.”

  “I know.” He says it with conviction. He’s in love with her. He looks at her like she is perfection—a perfection she has conjured up. Hugo looks at her the same way except I think the perfection he sees in her is the darkness she wants to hide from Patrick.

  “So, Patrick,” Jordana says. “How did you two crazy kids meet?”

  “At a lounge. I was there with some work buddies and saw this stunning woman and I knew I had to meet her.”

  “How original,” Hugo makes a snide comment. Patrick notices but ignores it while Scarlett sways an amused but angry look at him.

  “You have a twin brother, right?” Patrick asks him.

  “Yes, he seems to have contained himself in his room,” Hugo says as Thomas pours him a glass of wine.

  “He seemed scared,” I say still staring at my plate, tucking my hair behind my ear. I can’t help myself. I look up. “He seemed scared down here. Wonder why?” I look at Scarlett and she slyly grins at me, amused by my gallant behavior.

  “My brother is just tired,” Hugo says, his eyes penetrating me.

  “So, Cody your mother is Elaine Nichols, correct?” Patrick asks.

  “Yeah,” Cody answers proudly.

  “I went to a conference she led two years ago. Her research on Alzheimer’s was amazing. It’s what led to my family’s funding in the research.”

  “Yeah, my granddad suffered from Alzheimer’s and before that his father, so she saw firsthand what it did. She’s devoted to it.”

  “Your mum sounds cool,” I say to him.

  “Yeah, she is.” He gives it a thought. “Well, she can be when she’s not interfering in my life and future.”

  Some of us laugh a little in understanding.

  “That’s what comes with the territory of being children of the prestige,” Patrick says raising his glass.

  “Thank God, my parents are hippies.” Jordana also gives it a thought. “Well, hippies minus the flowers and kind words when speaking to each other.”

  We laugh at Jordana and continue with dinner. I glance over at Hugo. I watch as he glances around the table then back at his dish. His brow furrows and I notice how uncomfortable he is. I don’t think its because of Patrick and Scarlett. I think its just because the way he is. Uncomfortable with certain human in
teraction maybe? And that’s when it hits me.

  I quickly look away once he looks in my direction. I’m mentally berating myself now. That one guy that my mormor always told me about. I always laughed it off but fucking hell she was right! The one that I would want to know, want to be with, think about day and night, become crazy over… she told me he would most likely be an asshole.

  Scarlett

  “Hugo, where are your sunglasses?” I ask noticing. I noticed from the first moment I saw him again. He never goes this long without them. It’s my favorite thing about him.

  Poppy giggles while Cody and Jordana smirk. My eyes then fall on Juliet and I need no answer from Hugo. She looks at him, her eyes lighting up and he shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

  “Someone is holding them for ransom,” He says staring back at her. “I will get them back.”

  People don’t notice when snakes enter their gardens. I do. I am that snake. I am the original snake that poisons the garden and bathes in the ruins. Now a new snake is here and unlike me she wants to suck out the poison and grow fruit that can last forever. I see it in those blue eyes of hers. The way she looks at me, silently chastising me. She is trying to undo my masterpiece. She doesn’t know her place. I think it’s time she found out it’s not at the head of the table.

  HUGO

  I hear the music. Around this time of night, Poppy is dancing her life away through this place. I decide to get up and follow the music and laughs. They’re on the back patio. Ms. Eleanor on her white lounge chair, drinking heavily while Diego, her latest lover—a thirty-year-old Latin male escort—is rubbing her feet. Every couple of years she hires a new one, a personal lover for her. Always Latin, always similar to one another. It’s as if she has developed the perfect man in her head.

  Jordana is sitting in the other chair, bobbing her head and smoking a joint. Cody is enjoying the view while he types on his laptop. Poppy’s twirling in her white kimono that’s open completely, revealing her leopard bra and shiny silver shorts. Juliet is dancing with her. She sways her head from side to side with a joint also in her hand. I grab my gold cigarette case from my back pocket along with my lighter and light me up one. Exhaling the smoke, Juliet glances my way.

  “Come on, Hugo! Dance with us!” Poppy says laughing and stumbling into Juliet.

  “I’m good,” I say.

  “Oh, come my dear!” Ms. Eleanor snaps her fingers. “The night has arrived and the lovers are awake! Join them!”

  I roll my eyes at Ms. Eleanor’s clouded words. I didn’t even notice August sitting on the end of the palette cross legged, smiling so hard gazing up at the dancing Juliet and Poppy. Juliet reaches down towards him, grabbing his hand, pulling him up. A nervous August scratches the back of his head and bites his thumb as Juliet and Poppy start to dance around him.

  “Come on, August, it’s easy. I swear,” she tells him.

  He’s not going to do it. Last time a girl tried to get August to dance, he ran away and wrapped himself in a blanket and sat in the corner of his room.

  He wraps his arms over his head and I’m just waiting.

  August’s face slowly starts to untwist. My eyes broaden at the shocking revelation of my brother I have never seen before. A glimpse of normalcy has been discovered as he stares at Juliet. He smiles at her. Looks at her. His smile shows the adoration he has for our new guest and it intrigues me. What is it about her that has him like this? His laugh brings me back to reality and his child like persona returns as he jumps up and down with his hands holding onto hers. He’s starting to do it too hard. He should start to unwind, but Juliet isn’t bothered. She just laughs with him and jumps just as high as him. My brother is enjoying himself with a person he has known for less than twenty-four hours. That is a record.

  He smiles my way and I nod, acknowledging the fact that I see he is happy. When we were kids he always asked me to look at him whenever he did something fun and exciting. Now it’s just a smile my way to make sure I’m looking. It’s our thing. I think Juliet is noticing our thing, which is why she is headed my way.

  She tilts her head, her eyes in amused disbelief. “He doesn’t like rainbows, butterflies, or dancing?”

  “Do you even like the pair of colorful symbolisms that were created to lead people to dream of fraudulent hope?”

  “Rainbows, yes. Duh! They’re rainbows. Butterflies, not so much. Actually I have a phobia of them. I find them to be ugly demonic beasts masked with radiant wings to throw people off of the fact that they’re bugs.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Kind of like you.”

  “So you think I’m radiant.”

  “Yes, it covers the pest in you.”

  “Butterflies aren’t really known as things that present a problem.”

  “Oh, they definitely are. People are just too bloody blinded by those beautiful wings. Cut em off. It’s just an ugly bug. Now that I think about that, butterflies can be used to describe wealthy people. Cut off the money, we’re just like the rest of the world.”

  “You talk a lot.”

  “And you don’t nor dance.”

  “Dancing is a brilliant ritual created, but I don’t normally participate.”

  “Why? Because it shows you actually have fun?”

  “Oh, I have fun.” My gaze falls over her body. Her tongue slides between her teeth, her eyes that are dazed from the weed start to glisten.

  “Well,” she seductively drawls. “Why don’t you try joining us happy people out here?” She grabs my hand and my insides start to do this weird thing. It feels mild, but it’s there. It’s just like when she touched my face and pulled off my glasses. This unsettling feeling inside me bothers the shit out of me. She notices it too as we both stare at her hands touching. The benevolent smirk on her face right now as she takes sympathy on me, waiting to move until I do.

  Frustrated, I take one last inhale of my joint as she leads me and pass it to a dancing Poppy. I don’t necessarily breakout into smooth dance moves, but I move my feet from left to right and she laughs and grabs my hand. She turns herself around. I bring her close to me with my arm around her waist. She gasps and stares at me confused as I lean in close, my lips barely touching her nose.

  “I want my sunglasses back,” I say and she finally breathes, her warm breath coming across my skin.

  “You’re going to have to win them back.”

  “How am I supposed to win back something that is already mine?”

  “Think of something to impress me.”

  “You want me to impress you?”

  “Yep, you amaze me, that’s for sure, but you have yet to impress me.” My pause causes something to shift in her eyes. Hope appears in the iris as her eyes brighten at me. At what she sees in me. She sees something I don’t even know about.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be needing to go purchase a new pair then.”

  I let go of her. I mentally will her away, but she just stares at me, amused. She stares at me amused at me being mutinous. I walk away. My hands at my sides, I rub my fingers together causing friction amongst the friction Juliet has invested in me. I don’t have time for her and I sure as hell am not gonna work to impress her. She wants us to bond and for me to let her know all my inner feelings or what not. I may want to do very dirty things to her, but no pair of sunglasses nor ass is worth that bullshit.

  Besides, ass is never hard for me to get. It may be simple, but I am content with it.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask Scarlett who is standing in my bedroom in nothing but heels. Blonde hair pinned up and every single part of her body is freshly shaved.

  She dramatically sighs with her hands on her hips. “I changed my mind.”

  She walks slowly to me. “It would be very rude of me if I did not tend to the one person who knows how to make me wet without buying me expensive things.” She stares at me as she unbuttons my shirt. My breathing goes rapid. I used to be so eager when we first started doing this, but she taught me to be patient. I am with every woma
n, but I still can’t be patient with her, not now. I seize her hips as I dig my fingers into them, pressing her naked body against mine. I yank my shirt open, wanting to feel her breasts against my bare chest. I take hold of her chin and pull her mouth to mine. I waste no time deepening the kiss. She still tastes the same. Her breasts are still the perfect C cup. I drop to my knees and watch her mouth drop as I kiss the sweet spot that has been like a drug to me since I was fifteen. She smiles and moans as I dive my tongue deeper and she gets off on watching me watch her. Her grey eyes become intense and she bites her lip. She grabs a handful of my hair as my tongue does things that can never fail. I enjoy this shit. I enjoy bringing Scarlett, the hardest girl I know, down to her knees. She does just that as she comes, shaking and wrapping her arms around my neck.

  She kisses my mouth, tasting herself and takes my shirt off. I stand up bringing her back up with me. I turn her around, ravishing her neck and massaging her breasts. She slides her hand around my neck and with her other hand unbuttons my jeans, unzips my zipper, and reaches inside. I grab the hairpin and release her gorgeous blonde hair. I wrap it around my fist and gently pull her head back. She laughs a little and strokes harder. I walk us forward to my bed and bend her over. I rub her back and ass and trail kisses long them. I flip her over and push her onto the bed.

  She is laughing and I take off my pants and underwear. I crawl over the bed and separate her legs with my knee. She’s the only girl I go raw in. No one else.

  “I want to feel all of you,” she whispered the first time we had sex.

  Now, I don’t know. So I ask.

  “You still want to feel all of me inside of you?”

  She slowly grins. “Always.”

  I rise up on my knees and watch as I slowly enter her. I grip her waist and pull her and push myself deeper. She gasps and giggles. Her red painted fingernails rub over my abdomen as I move my hips in a slow roll. She moves her hips, meeting me in the middle. My breath becomes ragged. My left hand lets go of her waist and massages over her breasts.