Page 1 of Death Of A Sinner

ChapterOne

Her chest rises and falls with each breath. Watching Cammi sleep is one of my favourite pastimes. As long as her chest is moving, her heart is beating.

I still see her lifeless body on the ground of the university campus. It’s an image I’ll never be able to forget. An experience I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure I never relive.

For as long as I can remember, I thought I wasn’t the type of person who could be loved. Sure, my brothers all love me, but we’re not an overly affectionate kind of family. But with Cammi, it’s different. I’ve never felt the kind of love she has for me.

I always knew she was my ride or die. My wife is my biggest cheerleader. There isn’t anything I could do that would make her love me less. Trust me, in the beginning, I tried. I didn’t want to drag her down with me. I didn’t want her to have to sacrifice a normal life for me.

Because I’m fucked up beyond repair. There is no fixing my head. I’m better. Every day I’m a little better. When she’s around. I’m sure if I saw a shrink, they would tell me I have a co-dependency with my wife at an all-time unhealthy level. Good thing I’ll never visit a shrink.

I get up from the sofa, pick up my tin, and walk out of the bedroom. I was doing well. The nightmares were less frequent. And then a goddamn fucking ghost reared its ugly head and messed me up again.

Gio tells me to leave it dead. He says that nothing good can come from digging up secrets that were long buried. He doesn’t know what I know, though. He doesn’t have the questions floating around in his head constantly.

I could do what Cammi suggested a while back. It’d be easy to get a DNA sample from any of my brothers and find out if the shit my father spewed at me for all those years has any truth to it.

The only reason I haven’t done that is thewhat ifs. If that test confirms I’m not a De Bellis, where the fuck does that leave me? Who the fuck am I if not a De Bellis brother?

The name is both a blessing and a curse. Being a De Bellis opens doors that otherwise would not open for me. There’s money, power, and fear behind the name. All of which I happen to fucking love. There’s also the downside. The fact that every man and his dog thinks they can just come along and take what’s ours—what generations have built—puts a target on all of our backs. And my wife’s. And I have a huge fucking problem withthat.

I move onto the balcony and sit down on the loveseat Cammi insisted we needed out here. She likes looking up at the stars on clear nights. I open the metal tin, the same one I’ve carried around for years. It belonged to her. My mother. The reason my head is fucked up and I can’t sleep.

I pull out a pre-rolled joint, press the end between my lips, and light it up. Taking a deep inhale and letting it fill my lungs before I release it. Smoke clouds the night air. It’s cold out here. Probably doesn’t help that I’m only wearing a pair of sweats. I didn’t want to chance waking Cammi up while searching for something to put on.

I don’t smoke as much these days. I know she worries about me. About my smoking. She doesn’t tell me not to do it, though. That’s the thing about my wife, her unwavering ability to overlook all my faults. She really is my own personal saint.

The glass door behind me slides open. Stubbing out the joint, I turn around to find Cammi stepping outside. “Did I wake you?” I ask her.

“No, the empty bed did,” she says. She sits next to me, her legs folded underneath her, and leans against my side, resting her head on my shoulder. “What’s going on?”

My arm wraps around her. I’m getting better at being able to touch her without needing her to ask me first. Hugs here and there. Holding her hand. I still need her verbal consent for sex, though. I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever be able to do without her telling me she wants it.

“Couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you.”

Cammi’s fingers trace along my ink, up and down the Eiffel Tower tattoo. “You know I shouldn’t say this, but I hate her.”

“Who?” I ask.Cammi doesn’t hate anyone.

“The woman who gave birth to you. I hate her. I hate that she left you and your brothers. I hate that because of her, you never got to experience what it’s like to have a mother. I hate that you’re losing sleep now because of her.”

I lean over and kiss the top of Cammi’s head. “You can’t miss something you never had,” I tell her.

“But you can miss the idea of something,” she counters. She’s not wrong. “What are you going to do? You know I’ll be there for whatever you choose. If you choose to go and see her, I’ll go with you. If you choose to just let her stay buried, then I’ll go visit her gravesite with you.”

“I love you.” I squeeze her tighter to me. “Gio says to leave it alone.”

“Fuck what Gio says. This isn’t about what he wants. This is about what you want.” Cammi looks up at me. “Don’t think about what your brothers want to do. They don’t know the doubt your sperm donor filled your head with. Do what you need to do for yourself.”

I smile down at my wife. “You know you’re fucking hot when you get angry.”

“I can feel your pain, Vin. I can feel it when you hurt. And right now, you’re hurting. Don’t run from that. Do what you have to do to get answers. Or decide that you can live the rest of your life without them.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now kiss me like it’s the first and last time you ever will,” she demands.

“Never gonna be a last time,” I tell her before my lips land on hers.

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