Page 15 of Sweet SIN Slaughterhouse

Shaking my head, I feel the mascara drying under my eyes. “I don’t know what I mean anymore,” I spit my words at him as I leave. He fucking knew. He fucking knew and that’s how he decided to tell me? All I ever do is try to protect him, why? For the one time I need him, how could he not try and protect me back?

Greta must be awake from her nap, her walker echoes down from the hall. “I always hated that bitch.”

I love this woman. Looking back, her face appears from behind the wall but Dad beats me to it. “Mind your business, old lady.”

She laughs and snarks back, “Pussy is my business, asshole.” Mom and I laugh hysterically because she isn’t wrong. Well fucking played, Greta.

I take my family in once more before leaving. I am my father’s daughter, but I cry, I feel, because Mom’s blood runs thick through me too.

And because of them, I am Sid motherfucking Sinclair.

8

SID

Walking across the street to Papa’s, I seehercar is still in my driveway. Bitch better wake up and leave before her car is no more.

Jack and Sally snort, equally as disgusted as I am.

Oh dear, I guess we really are moving toward the anger stage. I’d cut that bitch right now and not blink an eye, then perhaps throw her body in her car and burn her alive.

How exciting!

My heart races at the idea, though this unexpected hit of adrenaline needs to calm down. It makes me have thoughts I can’t have… yet.

First, I have shit to handle with Papa. A day in the life of a leader, I suppose. Oh, how priorities have changed, perhaps this is what maturing looks like.

Strolling up his driveway, I unleash the babies and lead them into his fenced backyard. My dad once had abody farm back here so they get excited and try truffling for hidden treats, if you know what I mean. The odd ear or finger still lingers beneath the soil, although I often wonder if my dad plants them back here for Jack and Sally to find.

Leaving them to it, I watch as their curly tails wiggle with excitement. As they start digging with their cute little noses, I go to the patio door which leads to Papa’s office. Turning the warm metal handle, I find it unlocked. And walking in, I am greeted by his big smile, with hooded eyes from behind the large wooden desk.

I freeze.

What have I just walked in on? My absolute worst nightmare, no person should see any family in this state. Fuck me, well, I’m here now. This is happening.

Alarmed, my mouth opens and I can’t stop it, “If I’m interrupting something, I can come back?”

Okay, that was polite, one point to me. But, internally I am praying and begging to Satan.

Please, Rylee, don’t be under the desk. Please.

Papa rises and my eyes shift instantly to the wall.Do not look directly at the light.Clapping his hands, I’m startled and look back toward him. Fuck.

Wearing his classic gray sweats and white V-neck tee, his strong hands still clap. “No, you’re right on time.”

Releasing all the breath in my lungs, I sigh in relief. Rylee’s not under the desk and Papa is completely flaccid. This is a win I needed today. “Thank you, Satan. I’llalways be your humble servant,” I sweetly say, speaking to the floor.

Papa laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

Good, because I was not going to speak it out loud. But he was definitely day dreaming about something naughty.

Glancing back at him, I catch the moment when his face goes from cheerful and carefree to concerned and worried.

Papa’s eyes take me in, catching every detail that the average person may not even notice. He has always been extremely observant. His thick brows scrunch and his lips pinch beneath his trimmed beard. “Speak. What happened?”

Biting my lip, I shake my head in defiance and brush him off completely. “I don't need to talk about it.” Stepping forward, I can feel my skin warming, cheeks flushed as his eyes attempt to penetrate my soul for answers.

Yes, he is that fucking good.

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