Tempted by a Sinner (Seven Sinners Book 4)

by A G Henderson

  “How would you know?”

  The laugh that left me was hollow and mocking. “Give me a break, Tex. Because of me, her place got fucking demolished.” I thought about how happy she looked when she was moving around the store. How devastated she looked when it was broken around her. “She left town and went back home without telling anyone where she was going. That’s how bad I messed this up.”

  “Of course she did,” he said patiently. I wished I had the strength to get up and close his mouth for him. Except even at my best, that would be a hard fight. Borderline impossible. And I was far, far from my best. “You spent all this time merging your lives together, and when it really came down to it, you let her go.”

  “I didn’t have-”

  “You had a choice,” he barked, making my back straighten. Bringing my eyes back to him. I wasn’t used to seeing the scowl he wore directed at me. “Stop making excuses for your own actions for a minute, and maybe you’ll finally realize it.”

  “Fine,” I hissed, pushing back against the tree and tensing my thighs as I raised myself up. “I made a choice and it was the right one. I had to make sure she was safe. I had to go after them.”

  He shook his head, looking...disappointed. It cut me. In a way, Texas was my single link to the past.

  Facing his disappointment while being aware that Katherine had sought him out specifically for me was like seeing the same expression on her.

  “You’re half right,” he told me, coming closer. “Making sure she was safe was exactly what you should’ve done. But you went full dumbass and went about it in the worst possible way. Never go full dumbass. I even understand that you only had a little bit of time to try and make the right choice. That helps your case somewhat.”

  “What case?” I asked, wondering if he seriously came out here just to hand me this verbal beatdown. I was feeling knocked around already without his help. Off-balance. Up against the ropes. “And if you’re so goddamn wise, how was I supposed to handle it?”

  Texas put his hand on my shoulder. There was a weight to it that—combined with the look in his eyes—put strain on my knees. “Open your eyes, my dude. The Sinners are your family. I’m your family. You think any of us would’ve left your ass in the lurch if you had bothered to call instead of trying to tackle things yourself?”

  My lips were so dry they were cracked. Licking them didn’t help much, but I did it anyway, trying to put my thoughts together.

  “I didn’t-” That was as far as I got before Tex shoved me against the tree and put some distance between us. Anger flared bright and welcome. I clenched my jaw, fists balling. “What the fuck?”

  “I’m getting tired of finishing your sentences,” he said with a taunting flash of teeth. “But since I’m on a roll, I’ll catch this last one. You didn’t think, Tone. You got so used to taking on everything that got thrown your way, no matter what was asked of you, that you forgot you have people you can rely on.”

  My mouth opened.

  “Don’t even,” he said quickly. “Everyone has noticed how reliable you are. Great job there, brother. Huge success. But until Naomi came along, you only did things for other people. Never for yourself. Then, within a few days of her showing up, you finally—finally!—asked for something. And what happened? Did we let you down? Did we leave something to be desired?”

  “No,” I said quietly, remembering what she called a horde of people showing for opening day and every day after that.

  “Louder.”

  I popped my neck, feeling my strength return by fits and starts. “No,” I said, voice ringing with iron that was gradually becoming steel. “Y’all did right by me.”

  Texas nodded. “Then you got in your own head again. Something shook you, and you forgot what it means to be a Sinner. We don’t abandon each other. Ever. Even if that means welcoming the Reaper with open arms and punching his bony fucking face in.”

  A twitch pulled at my lips. The aching pain remained, but the rest of the world was starting to filter back in through it. Muted, yet there all the same. “You’re right,” I admitted, gnawing at my cheek. “It’s just like you said. I got shook and let it affect who I thought I could count on.”

  “At least you realize it. Now try not to forget that shit again, you hear me? If there’s a next time, I’m putting you through that tree.”

  Something close to a real laugh slipped from my throat. “I don’t think you know how this whole pep talk thing works, Tex. Hell, maybe I don’t either. Except I think they usually don’t end in threats.”

  He lifted giant shoulders in an uncaring shrug. “I got distracted seeing you all mopey and shit. I really was only coming to curse you out a bit and give you something. You’re lucky my girl is rubbing off on me, trying to blunt my caveman ways.”

  “So lucky.” I shook my head. “Now, what is it that you’re here to give me?”

  His expression grew firm, solemn. The amusement drained from me. “First,” he said. “What are you going to do about Naomi?”

  My shoulders knotted with tension. “I don’t know what I can do. She’s not going to forgive me, and I’m not even sure if it’s right for me to ask her to.”

  “Pussy.”

  I reared back, cocking my head to the side. “Run that back for me?”

  “Do I need to?” He smiled again and there was nothing friendly about it. “I called you a pussy. Guess it’s your lucky day, because that means the conditions are met.”

  Conditions? Before I could ask what he meant, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a clear, zip-lock bag. My heart skipped enough beats I wasn’t sure it would find its rhythm again.

  Tex strode forward. When he lowered the bag, I found my hands were already outstretched, waiting for it to be delivered. He was gone without another word, weaving through the trees silently. Just as well.

  I wouldn’t have been able to focus on him again, even if he screamed directly into my ear.

  Inside the bag, folded in a precise, familiar manner, was a yellow sheet of notebook paper. Trembling fingers hardly cooperating, I broke the seal and lifted it out. Time stopped moving while I held it in the palm of my hand, clutching the thin paper between my knuckles so it wouldn’t blow away in the breeze.

  I remembered to breathe at the same moment I started carefully unfolding the paper, wholly unsurprised to find Katherine’s flowing script going across the page. I had so many questions about the origins of this letter. When had she written it? Why?

  Texas seriously held onto it all these years?

  But with her words in front of me, I knew there was nothing to do but dive in and see what she deemed so important it needed to be saved for a special occasion.

  She wrote:

  If you’re reading this, it means our doppelgangers are coming back from the future to disrupt the time stream, and you’re going to have to follow this letter...to the letter, if you want to survive.

  My lips curved despite the riot of emotion happening inside me. Her attempts at puns had always been hilariously awful.

  Now that I have your attention, I’m starting over. Nathaniel Reese Glen, if you’re reading this, it means our story got cut short. Which sucks. You know how I hate cliffhangers. They always pop up just as things were getting to the good part.

  The smile faded, breath shuddering out of me. I sat back down in the cold dirt, because I could already tell she was going to cut my legs out from under me.

  But you know what? When I woke up this morning and saw you sleeping in the chair beside my hospital bed, the anger was gone. And do you know why? Because even if our story didn’t end the way I wanted it to—the way we wanted it to—you have to admit that it was pretty damn awesome anyway.

  My throat closed, even as I choked out a wet laugh.

  People talk a lot about finding clarity when they know their time is almost up, and I never understood it until now. Because now that those moments ahead of me are so much fewer than the ones behind, I appreciate them that
much more. On this page, I can admit to something I would’ve argued you to death about not long ago.

  It’s not about the ending. It never was. It’s about the journey. And if someone had chronicled ours, it would’ve been a bittersweet tale. Starting with a little boy stepping in front of a little girl to protect her from her bullies.

  He didn’t know her name.

  He didn’t stand a chance against the group gathered around them.

  But it didn’t stop him from trying. Didn’t stop her from jumping right into the fray with him.

  No single word could encompass what you mean to me, both then and now. What we mean to each other. But if I had to pick just one? We were epic, best friend. Absolutely, out of this world, epic.

  That was the day our hearts beat in sync. The day I knew—before I even understood it—that I was going to fall in love with you. Lord knows it took us both long enough to get there, but it was always going to happen. We were inevitable.

  Until we weren’t.

  By the way, you look ridiculous trying to curl up into this tiny chair. But it’s okay, because when I look at you, I see so much more than the bags under your eyes or the stress brackets around your mouth.

  I see the little boy.

  I see the gangly teenager.

  I see the man you’ve become.

  The same man who put me first time and time again. Even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when it meant you had to make hard choices.

  I should be making plans to put you first. But I won’t, because I know you. Better than you know yourself. So instead, I’m going to be totally and completely selfish.

  Soon. So soon I hate to even think about it, I’m going to ask you to make me a promise. You’re going to agree, the same way you’ve always agreed to anything I’ve ever asked you. The thing is, you’re going to lie. You’re going to lie, and I’m going to let it slide for the first time in our entire history.

  You’re not going to be okay. I know that with the kind of unshakable faith entire religions are based on. But you’re going to pretend like you will be for my sake.

  All this?

  Every single word?

  This is me telling you to stop lying.

  Don’t run from the feelings. The joy. The pain. Let them in.

  And guess what?

  I lied too.

  Our story...my story. It isn’t over. You gave me a piece of your heart, and I gave you one of mine. Because of you, that piece is full and shiny and perfect instead of defective like the one inside my chest.

  Don’t seal it away. Don’t let it stop beating.

  I don’t know how long it’ll be before you read this. I don’t know if all the little pieces I’ve set in motion will fall into place. Still, I have faith that this will end up in your hands on the day you need it.

  And on that day?

  The journey continues.

  You’ll step back into your own story instead of being a side character in it.

  Live, Nathaniel.

  Like I said, I hate cliffhangers.

  Forever yours, Kit-Kat.

  I was shaking so badly I dropped the letter, and it floated for a moment before being caught in the pine needles. Ignoring the tears flowing down my face and the loud thump of my heart, I grabbed it carefully and sealed it back into the bag before lifting my head to the sky.

  I was a Sinner, in more ways than one. But I’d never felt more blessed than I did just then. Somehow, my path had aligned with not one, but two women who made me a better man than I was.

  Katherine had started it, before fate and my own inability to deal with losing her hit pause on the growth I should’ve accomplished.

  Then Naomi came along, and that frozen time started back up again. It was thanks to her that I finally understood how to accept my loss. How to treat it not as an ending, but as a beginning to something completely new.

  I was the luckiest fucker in the entire world to have been granted two chances to get my shit together.

  And now I was going to let the second one go?

  Because I was worried I wasn’t good for her?

  Because I was scared I might lose her?

  I must’ve been blind to have not seen it before. Hell, I was blind. The question I should’ve asked myself was right there in my face the entire time.

  Given what I knew now, and a chance to go back, would I avoid ever meeting Katherine?

  And the answer was right there as well: Of-fucking-course not.

  Those times. Those memories. They were meant to be cherished.

  And here I was with a golden opportunity to make new ones, and I was going to waste it?

  Nah. Not a chance.

  I got to my feet, absently wiping my face clean while my mind worked in overtime. Naomi and I were meant to be. I knew it from the moment I offered her a helping hand and received animosity instead.

  If I wasn’t good enough for her, I would have to be better. If something happened, I would have to fix it. If I was scared I might lose her, I would have to endure and make sure that never happened.

  She was worth it.

  She was worth everything I was going to have to do to get her back.

  Naomi Ives was mine, and I was going to prove to her that I would never walk away again.

  No matter what it took.

  Chapter Thirty

  Naomi

  Why did no one ever mention the shell shock of going from a dream job back to a normal one?

  I shuffled back into the house, irritable, tired, and so damn glad Lawson’s car wasn’t here for the first time in three days. Picking up some hours at the bakery was mostly luck, mixed with my former boss—Lynn’s sister, Maria—being the sweetest thing ever, and I should’ve been grateful.

  After all, if I was going to afford to fix the damage to the shop, I needed whatever money I could bring in.

  Kicking off my shoes by the door, I hung my jacket on the coat rack and peeked around the corner. What I saw sent my mood straight towards the cliff face of annoyance, and over the edge into genuine anger.

  Dad was fast asleep in his favorite recliner, again.

  The one he practically lived in.

  I’d forgotten how much it hurt to see him just...existing. Lacking the motivation to go out and do anything at all. Almost as much as it hurt not being able to do something about it. But I obviously didn’t know how to convince people to stop making the wrong decisions. If I did, I wouldn’t be alone right now.

  Don’t go there, I told myself, feeling the familiar squeeze in my chest.

  The days since the incident hadn’t made the loss hurt any less. More than once, I thought about going back down the road. Returning to Oakdale. Finding Tone and telling him what a huge freaking idiot he was being.

  Except I knew I couldn’t. That was a recipe for disaster. If he wanted to keep his heart to himself, then I needed to do the same thing. I needed to be selfish and watch out for myself. Returning to the bubble was the way to do it. At least I thought it was when I first got back.

  That sentiment was unraveling more each day.

  When I carefully stepped towards the stairs and the floorboards creaked, giving away my presence, I knew I was probably lying to myself. Because when that noise rang out, impossibly loud in the otherwise hushed house, I wanted to shrink into a ball and hide, even as tension filled my shoulders.

  I wanted to hide from my Dad and the overwhelming concern he was dousing me with each time we crossed paths.

  What kind of reaction was that?

  A truthful one, I knew. Especially when the sound of his sleepy voice made my gut twist, heels itching with the need to run up the stairs and act as if I hadn’t heard a thing. But I couldn’t do that to him.

  “Baby girl,” he mumbled, chair squeaking.

  Forcing a smile, I turned towards him.

  For a moment, I wished I could craft illusions. I didn’t want to see his thin form. The scraggly beard he didn’t care to shave. The pajama pants and white
tank top he wore day in and day out. The outfit that revealed skin ghost-white from only receiving the bit of sunlight that came in through the windows.

  “Hey,” I said softly, moving deeper into his space. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  And it was truly his space. His house. This place would always feel unforgettably familiar to me. But it no longer felt like home. I’d sculpted another one through blood, sweat, and tears. Even though it currently sat empty, more or less abandoned, it was still mine.

  “Nonsense,” he said, brows pinching together in the same look I knew so well. The same look Law kept giving me since I got back.

  It was somehow worse than the previous ones. The don’t go, you aren’t ready for this looks had been bad enough.

  But these?

  Whenever their eyes dipped and settled on me, it was like they were screaming, I told you so. I told you that you weren’t ready. I knew you would fail.

  And it pissed me off. Because I didn’t feel like I’d failed. I felt like I’d been cheated. Like fate had seen the game pieces of my life moving in a way it didn’t approve of, and decided to become an angry child, turning over the board because they hated the outcome.

  But the pieces were still there. Waiting. Aside from Lynn, Texas was the only person from Oakdale I’d responded to, and only because he had asked me a question I deemed relevant.

  He asked me: “Are you coming back?”

  And I’d given him the answer I knew for a fact.

  Yes.

  “You look tired,” Dad said after our silence stretched for long enough to be awkward. “Want to hang out and watch a movie with your old man?”

  And for the first time, I didn’t agree.

  I didn’t brush the dirty little secret between us under the rug.

  I didn’t ignore what he was doing to himself, and by extension, the rest of our family.

  “Sure.” I clutched the blue gem around my neck, offering him the brightest smile I could muster up around the bandaged areas of my heart. “What theater do you want to hit?”

  His smile became strained, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Heh. I mean...I was thinking you could take the couch. We’ll pop open some of that cookie dough ice cream in the freezer and watch a favorite of yours.”