The Next Sin Page 15

  Sin places his hand on my thigh. “He’s fine.”

  “When he lies, may it be beside you. Or in a court of law so he may keep all you wankers out of the slammer.” The crowd breaks into laughter and I’m marginally relieved. But he isn’t finished.

  “When he cheats, may it be death.” I hear what sounds like the murmurs of hundreds saying “aye” in unison. “Seems he already has that one down since he’s managed to dodge the grave twice now.” I hear more gleeful sounds but I still brace myself for what could come next.

  Leith is full of lingering anger with Sin, and it has nothing to do with me. It may take a little digging but I fully intend on finding out what’s going on between them.

  “When he steals, may it be your heart and your kisses. Or whatever is of value from The Order when the opportunity presents itself.”

  The brotherhood bursts into cheers. I look at Sin and roll my eyes. I can’t believe Leith is turning his best man toast into jokes about lying in court and stealing from The Order.

  Leith holds up his glass for what I think is a final statement. At least, I hope that’s what it is. He’s still making me nervous.

  “The traditional toast says, ‘If you drink, drink deeply of the joy of your new life together.’ While we all wish that for our happy leader and his bride, I say to everyone: drink deeply tonight in honor of them. Congratulations, Sin and Bleu. May we all know love that will push us above and beyond any limits standing in the way.”

  “Finally,” I say beneath my breath as I bring my champagne up for a drink.

  Sin laughs while drinking to Leith’s toast. “Did you really think he would say something in poor taste?”

  I heard the things Leith said to Sin in the ring the day they fought. There’s bad blood there. “I only know one thing. Never trust a drunk holding a mic.”

  “Good point. But it’s done now and all is well.”

  The toasts continue far too long. Everyone in the brotherhood wants to offer their congratulations and well wishes for our marriage … and future children. There are so many toasts, I’m on my way to drunkenness without intending it.

  We’re nearing the last of the well-wishers when Sin puts his hand on my leg beneath the table. He leans over to whisper in my ear and his warm breath ignites chills down my body. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

  He pulls away. He scans my face and leans back to take a look below the table. “What is that?”

  “My Beretta.”

  “You’re wearing a wedding dress with a gun strapped to your thigh?”

  I shrug. “Almost every Fellowship member is gathered here. It would be crazy to not be prepared in case of an invasion.”

  “My wife has a pistol hidden beneath her dress. That is fucking hot.”

  “I might let you take it off me later.”

  Sin removes his hand from my thigh and takes my hand. “Dance with me, Mrs. Breckenridge.”

  I’ve been his wife going on two months and I still get chills when he calls me that. I hope it never stops.

  We move to the dance floor and he takes me in his arms as we sway to the band’s rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight.”

  “My husband is a very good dancer.” His movements are smooth despite his amputation.

  The solitary dimple makes an appearance. “Only when I have the right partner.”

  I follow Sin’s lead. “I’m not a great dancer but I feel like I am when I’m with you.”

  “Everything we do in life is going to be great as long as we do it together.”

  “I know.” I move closer and place my head against his chest.

  I look forward to all the great things we’re going to do together. I love being a wife but I miss being a daughter and sister. It hurts every day. “I wish Dad and Ellison were here. And both of my moms. I miss all of them so much.”

  “I know. I sometimes hear you cry when you’re alone for your soaks in the tub.”

  He’s given me those moments to myself. I appreciate him granting me the distance I need. He is my husband but those private times remain very important. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being you.”

  We dance but I’m preoccupied by one of the toasts a brother made. I’m hesitant to bring it up. I don’t want to put a damper on the good time we’re having but I can’t help myself. “Todd Cockburn’s toast was interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “He called me your Bleubird.”

  “Purely coincidental.”

  “It’s weird since that’s what my mother called me.”

  “You crossed him off the list. He didn’t pan out.”

  “I know.”

  Sin stops moving. I immediately worry I’ve angered him by bringing up the investigation during our wedding celebration.

  “May I have this dance with my new niece?” Every hair stands on the back of my neck.

  I don’t have to see him to know it’s Abram.

  “It’s fine,” I say to Sin. He doesn’t look convinced so I nod.

  Abram can’t hurt me for two reasons. First, I’m Fellowship, just as he is. I’m the wife of his future leader. Secondly, we’re in front of the entire brotherhood. But I’m no fool. I’m quite aware the latter is the only thing assuring my safety for the time being.

  I don’t trust this man.

  Abram takes my hand and leads me in a basic box step. Moving with him on the dance floor feels like dancing with the devil. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing in particular. I just want to dance with my niece.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Such a lady.”

  “And you’re always such a gentlemen.”

  “Westlyn tells me you’ve been doing a lot of socializing with the women since your return.”

  “I don’t know them. I need to remedy that if I’m to be any kind of leader.”

  “Stay away from my daughters.”

  His voice oozes acid. Good. I think it could be a sign he actually cares for his girls.

  I barely know Evanna but Westlyn is becoming a dear friend. I’ve never had that before so I don’t intend on giving up our friendship so easily. “Despite what you may believe about me, I’m not the enemy. I’m committed to The Fellowship and its well-being.”

  “You’ll never convince me of that.”

  I’m suddenly shoved from behind, sending my body crashing into the psychopath. He breaks my fall and reaches out to grab the arm of the culprit—a small girl playing chase with three other children. “Whoa. Slow it down there, toots. You wouldn’t want to knock your future leader’s wife onto her bum in her pretty dress.”

  Toots. Toots? Toots! That’s what my mother’s killer called me before placing a pillow over my face.

  It could be nothing. Or it could be something. Either way, I think I may be adding a new color of sticky note to my wall of suspects. One representing Abram Breckenridge.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sinclair Breckenridge

  I watch every move Abram makes with my wife. Every step. Every turn. I don’t trust him with Bleu and I don’t expect to any time soon. How can I when he had men hunting her as our enemy only a few short weeks ago?

  I’m alarmed when I see her shoved against him—even if it’s an accident by a small lass not looking where she’s going. I instantly go into defense mode. I bolt across the temporary dance floor.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I was bumped by a little girl. I’m fine.”

  “I can see your husband is ready to have his wife returned to him.”

  Abram takes Bleu’s hand and kisses the top. “Congratulations again on your nuptials. May you deliver many healthy sons and daughters as heirs to The Fellowship.”

  That son of a bitch.

  Bleu yanks her hand from his. Her face pales. “Come dance with me.”

  She doesn’t move so I encourage her with a tighter grasp. “Now, Bonny.”

  She comes but not happi
ly. I pull her into a close embrace. She’s stiff, not returning my affectionate hold. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed him near you.”

  It’s my job to protect her, and that includes from Abram.

  “He knows about my fertility problems.”

  She need not even think I’ve confided in him—or anyone else—about what’s going on. “I haven’t told anyone. I swear.”

  She relaxes.

  “He had people investigating me. It wouldn’t be difficult to put the pieces together if he saw my payments to the medical facility where I bank my eggs from the retrieval I did a couple of years ago.”

  “It doesn’t matter what or how he knows.” Unless he had us followed to the clinic in London. I’d better not find out that’s the case. “Our fertility issues are our business. Not The Fellowship’s and damn sure not his.”

  Bleu pulls away and her eyes connect with mine. “I’m adding him to my list of suspects.”

  She’s not thinking clearly. “What motive would Abram have for killing your mother?”

  “I don’t know but I want to talk to Thane.”

  That can’t happen. “That isn’t a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  She has no idea what kind of shit she’ll be stirring. A war waging between two leaders of The Fellowship will only weaken the brotherhood. That makes us vulnerable to attack.

  “You can’t go to my father and name his brother as a suspect for murdering the woman he loved. You need proof before you accuse a brother—especially a leader—of something like that.”

  “I know it isn’t much to go on but that little girl who bumped into me … Abram called her toots. That’s the same name my mother’s killer called me.”

  That’s no kind of proof. Bleu’s a former agent. I shouldn’t have to tell her this. “Toots is a common name to call a child. It doesn’t prove he’s a killer.”

  “But a bite from a dog on his leg will. All I need is to see he doesn’t have a scar and he’ll be excluded. It’s easy as that.”

  Abram is capable of a lot but in no way do I believe he’s guilty of Amanda Lawrence’s murder. Fingering him as her killer is a waste of time. And possibly detrimental to The Fellowship. There are huge problems brewing with The Order. We can’t afford a breakdown in leadership right now.

  “Bonny. I understand the importance of finding your mother’s killer. You need closure and I desperately want that for you but you won’t find it in naming Abram.”

  There’s so much she’s yet to learn. “You’re new to The Fellowship so you don’t understand what an enormous conflict like this between my father and his brother could cause.”

  I understand Bleu’s thirst for revenge but her obsession has become a disease very much like the cancer that took her father. She’s spent most of her life chasing something I fear will destroy her in the end. I can’t—and won’t—allow this to eat away her heart. I love her too much to let that happen.

  She needs a diversion—one wrapped in a pink or baby blue blanket.

  * * *

  Our reception lasts well into the night. It’s very late—or quite early, depending how you look at it—when Sterling takes us home.

  I think Bleu has had more champagne than she should. And I’m certain I have. Tomorrow won’t be gentle on our heads so I pull our bedroom drapes together. We won’t get much light until later in the morning but I want the option of sleeping in without the sun giving any arguments about it.

  I’m lying in bed when Bleu slips in next to me. She becomes still and releases a long sigh. “I love your mother to pieces but that was intense.”

  I expected no less. I knew Mum would go overboard.

  I’m not sure Bleu fully understands what our extravagant wedding celebration represents. “Mum and Dad are pleased about our union. They approve of you and this reception was their way of conveying those feelings to the brotherhood. Because my parents are happy about our marriage, they command our people to be as well. Nothing less will be tolerated.”

  “I had no idea. I’ll need to find a way to thank your parents, particularly Isobel, for going to such extremes to ensure my acceptance.”

  “You can cook for them sometime. That’ll be thanks enough. They’ll love your southern cuisine.”

  “I can do that.”

  We lie in bed, neither of us saying a word. The minutes tick by and I become increasingly nervous about broaching the subject of the IVF procedure.

  I listen to her breathing for a moment to see if it’s slow and steady. It’s not. I whisper her name to gain her attention, but not wake her if she has fallen asleep.

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  Good. She’s still awake. “Can we talk about the IVF?”

  “Sure.” The mattress dips as she moves.

  I’ve practiced what I’d say in my head all day. “We must make a decision based on what’s best for us in the present since we don’t know what the future holds. The timing might not be ideal, but if we’re lucky enough for the IVF to work, I will never look at our child and wish we didn’t have him or her. And I don’t believe you will, either. However, if we don’t pursue it, we could spend the rest of our lives with regret. I’d like to do the embryo transfer now.”

  “You sound very decided.”

  “I am. I want our own child if there’s a possibility to make that happen.”

  “I spoke to my sister today. She told me having a baby early was better than never. The word ‘never’ got stuck in my head and I thought about it all day. I was reminded that I’m not the only one in this marriage, so I have to consider what never having our own child means to you as well. I could only come to one conclusion. Early is a much better alternative to never. But that means if it’s successful, I’m going to need your help with my plan. I won’t be able to do it alone.”

  “Bonny. Have you yet to figure out that baby or not, you were never going to carry this out alone?” Even if I’d not made the arrangement with her father, I wouldn’t let her go through with her plan. I never want her heart to carry the darkness that accompanies cold-blooded murder.

  * * *

  It’s Monday—first day back to work following our reception. I’m not certain I’m fully recovered from the hangover. I’m never getting drunk on champagne again. Yesterday was brutal.

  I’m leaning over the sink trimming my facial hair when Bleu comes into the bathroom, yawning and sleepy-eyed. The lass is definitely no morning person.

  “I’m sorry. Did the buzz of my shaver wake you?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I’m up because I’m going to work with you.”

  This is news to me. “Why?”

  “Isobel wants me to become familiar with Breckenridge Incorporated. She says it’s important for me to understand how it functions.”

  Mum is right. Bleu needs to have an understanding of how we run things so she’s prepared when Mum’s role is passed to her.

  “Sterling will be here in forty minutes.” Lie. He won’t actually be here for another hour but I know how she is and I don’t want her making me late.

  “I’ll be ready when he arrives.”

  Oddly, I like the idea of Bleu going to work with me. I miss her during the long hours I’m away so it’ll be nice to have her near.

  “I wish I could give you the tour but I have court. I’ll need to use my morning preparing.”

  “No problem. I can find one of the Fellowship women to show me around.”

  “If not, I’ll find someone for you.”

  My father approaches the building housing Breckenridge Incorporated as we near the entrance. He holds the door, surprise on his face. “What brings my beautiful daughter-in-law to the office so early this morning?”

  “Isobel suggested I come down and have a look around, maybe become familiar with how things run.”

  “Ahh … a very good idea. You could learn a lot from Isobel.”

  “I already have and I’m certain there’s much more to come.”

 
; As much as my parents hate one another, even my father has to admit that my mum is his biggest supporter when it comes to leadership within The Fellowship. He may be the head but she is the neck. They were never fine examples to follow when it comes to marriage but leadership is an entirely different story. The two of them together could rule any kingdom.

  We part ways with my father at the lift.

  “How many floors does Breckenridge Incorporated occupy?” Bleu asks.

  “Three through five are ours.”

  “The offices on those levels are filled by BI?”

  “Aye. We have a lot going on around here.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “I would think you’d already be privy to the business here after watching us for so long.”

  “We had no idea it was this extensive.”

  “Good. That means we’ve kept things on the down-low, which is exactly what we want.”

  It’s early so we pass empty desks on the way to my office. “Welcome to the legal department.”

  We go inside and Bleu immediately looks around. She isn’t interested in the cool gray walls, contemporary office furniture, or shelves of law books. Her eyes go straight for the leather sofa. “You have a couch in your office?”

  “Aye, and I’ve spent quite a few nights on it.” But not a single one since we’ve been married. There’s been no need. I want to be at home in bed with my wife every night.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You better mean sleeping.”

  “It was mostly tossing and turning. Being at the flat without you was miserable but the nights were even worse. I worked myself ragged trying to get you out of my head. I slept here so I didn’t have to go home to our empty bed.”

  “That’s sort of sweet.”

  I move to stand behind her and place my hands on her hips. I use them to drive her toward the couch until the front of her thighs are pressed against the arm. “You should know I have every intention of fucking you on this sofa. I think we should christen it right now.”

  “At seven in the morning when your assistants could come into work at any minute?”

  “Linsey is always the first one here but she never arrives before a quarter after—just like clockwork. That gives us fifteen minutes.”