Page 57 of Sin

But this time my cruelty wouldn’t be to protect Cassidy, it would be to protect me and the walls I’ve built around myself.

It's like Cassidy can see my thoughts play out in my head, and instead of being angry over my possessive, selfish thoughtsand the lengths I contemplate going to get him to let me wallow in them, he burrows into my hold. “Don’t hurt me just so you can go back to your safe space of fighting against your father alone,” he says, dropping a reassuring kiss on my jaw.

“I know that’s how you survived all these years. Making sure no one was put in danger by getting too close, but that’s what Gideon wanted. He purposely kept you isolated. He thrives in the shadows. Secrets let him get away with being the psychotic abuser that he is.”

Cassidy pulls back from me and strips the bandages I’d questioned him about earlier to show me two small, ragged cut marks.

He tells me about the run-in he had with my father earlier in the morning. “I know I should have told you,” he bites his lip guiltily, “but I didn’t want you to overreact.”

Overreact?Would waiting for Gideon to get home and gutting him with the same kitchen knife he’d threatened and injured Cassidy with be an overreaction? I examine the angry red marks on Cassidy’s perfect skin and become certain it would be a fair and appropriate response.

“But I was wrong, Cassidy says with total conviction. “Because hiding this isolated me from you. I couldn’t tell you how scared it made me, and lying about it put a distance between us, and cut me off from your support. Gideon can’t be allowed to do that to me.”

“He damned-well can’t,” I agree.

“And the same goes for you,” he says, and I realize how my fucking brilliant Cassidy just laid out a logical trap for me that I walked right into.

I let him take his victory in kisses, and when he pulls back, there’s not smugness in the eyes looking back at me, but a silent plea to do as he asks and to let him help me in my war with Gideon.

I reluctantly shift him so he’s not on my lap any longer. “Let’s go shower.” I let out a heavy sigh. “It looks like we’re going to pay Mercer a visit.”

I pull up to the parking lot in front of Mercer’s studio and steal a glance over at Cassidy, who has that same determined look on his face as he did in my room when he declared I needed to tell Mercer about my father. I’m pretty sure he thinks he’s going to have to reconvince me to go through with this.

But looking at the rebandaged cuts on Cassidy’s neck is all I need to go through with this. He was right. Gideon thrives by isolating his victims. That’s how he was able to abuse my mother for so long—and then me. It’s time to break the chain.

So, here I am with my stepbrother-lover about to go visit my best friend-and-sometimes-hook-up to tell him that my father murdered my mother. This is gonna be one hell of a story one day when some cabal of true crime fanatics decide to make a podcast of it.

“This is where Mercer lives?” Cassidy asks, looking around the seedy neighborhood full of abandoned warehouses.

“Officially, no. His address is still the mansion that you went to with me a few times.” He nods, I’m sure he’s remembering the imposing estate Mercer grew up in, which makes my house look like a quaint cabin. “But this is where he spends the majority of his time. He pays rent for it with his art commissions.”

We head over to the steel sliding doors and I let us in with the key Mercer gave me and head up the concrete stairs to his loft. I use the key again, but it doesn’t work. I bang on the door, and I hear commotion behind the door. “Let me in,” I yell, andthen have to wait at least another few minutes until I hear a series of locks being undone. The door begins to open.

“It's about goddamned time,” I bitch. “What’s up with the fucking lock not working?”

As the door opens all the way, I realize it’s not Mercer standing there, but tall, dark-haired, steel-eyed Devlin Kane, Mercer’s former short-term guardian, and the habitual thorn in his side. I’m surprised to see him here. I’m one of the few people who know about this loft.

“I had new locks installed.” He gives me a long, sweeping look that’s meant to clearly show his dislike for me. “Unfortunately, they hadn’t changed the outside locks. You were still able to get in.”

“Good to see you again, too, Devlin,” I tell him, grabbing Cassidy’s hand and pushing past him to get inside the loft that is covered with Mercer’s paintings in various stages of creation. “You seem to be back in Nashville a lot these days.” I look around for Mercer, but don’t see him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think there was something here that you regret leaving behind.”

I enjoy watching the usually unflappable Devlin try to choke out an answer. He’s saved from replying by the entrance of a messy-haired, shirtless Mercer walking out of the bedroom, clearly just having woken up. He sees me and Cassidy and freezes. He looks at Devlin, who crosses his arms over his chest, leans back against the counter of the small kitchenette. He seems very interested in seeing how Mercer reacts.

“Thanks for dropping off that paperwork, I needed to sign,” he says to Devlin, his eyebrow twitching like the bad poker player he is. “Now that we’ve taken care of that piece of business, you can probably be on your way.”

A pulse in Devlin’s temple jumps at Mercer’s lie, and then at his clear dismissal. He stubbornly marches back to the old, butcomfortable, couch in the middle of the room and settles in as if he plans never to leave. “I think I’ll stay a while.” He gives me another dirty look and makes a show of placing his feet up on the coffee table. “And catch up with your old pal, Sin.”

Cassidy isn’t the only one in the room who isn’t a fan of Mercer’s and my old habit of helping each other have orgasms.

Cassidy speaks up at Devlin’s obvious plan to stick around. “Actually, Sin was hoping to speak to Mercer about something important and private.”

Devlin seems to notice Cassidy for the first time. His eyes scan over him and assess him in an instant. When he sees that our hands are still clasped together, he arches his eyebrow at me. “Aren’t you two stepbrothers?” he asks curiously, but without any scorn or judgment. The intense dislike in his voice that was present only seconds before, disappearing at seeing Cassidy’s and my connection.

I arch my eyebrow back at him, hoping mine achieves maximum snarky lift. “Yep, but amazingly not the most shocking relationship going on in this room.” I look pointedly at Mercer and then back at Devlin. “Does he call you da?—”

“What do you need to talk to me about?” Mercer interrupts, clearly not wanting me to finish my question. “We can always go somewhere else and talk privately.” He gives Devlin a rebellious look that he returns with a smoldering gaze that promises retribution.It’s actually pretty hot.

“That won’t be necessary,” I say, making a snap decision. Cassidy wants me to bring my father’s evil to light, and, well, in for a penny in for a pound. “I’ve known Devlin almost as long as I’ve known you, though for some mysterious reason, he’s never liked me.” I give Devlin a saucy wink meant to annoy him. “I’ve always thought he was pretty cool, so he might as well stay.” I take a deep breath. “Everyone is going to know about this soon enough, so I’d better get used to talking about it.”

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